They were all looking toward the dead bleeding animals and the red-stained paper funnels and the plastic containers below rising in level of thick red liquid. There were two does and a good number of rabbits, strung up from trees by their hindlegs and bleeding from gashed throats. The smell of the blood was as strong as the vision of the dead animals. "I can't believe you used to just let the blood fall to the ground," Daerick said.

      Miko raised his eyebrows as he looked up at the taller Vampyre.

      "We had no use for it and it just wasn't kosher besides," Claudia said pleasantly, "But I won't have you killing people even if they are soldiers of armies fighting us, not for food. Even Angel doesn't allow that," Claudia said more firmly.

      "It is logical now and there is use, so we've got no problem collecting the blood," Erik added from Miko's side.

      Claudia smiled at the very logic of it. "There may be another use," she said, "Daerick says they were stopped by the SB on their way to find us and that he saw at least two Vampyres among them. And Justin tells us Vampyres in the American military are always complaining to their fellow soldiers about the blood issued to them. Seems to be some mix of chicken and rat from lab raised animals and full of additives supposedly proven to supply nutrients more common in human blood. Imagine how they might like some deer blood, especially if we can serve it warm?"

      "Are you sure they are not hunting themselves?" Estasi asked. All the five Vampyres were there, including Claudia now of course, and Estasi was draped about David like a stole, though he seemed oblivious to her. The majority of Vampyres Claudia knew of were polyamorous, and David was new compared to Daerick and Angelo. His novelty made him all the more attractive to Estasi.

      "They follow orders," David said quietly. That was his way, to be rather quiet so that when he spoke he sounded more important. Or this was how it seemed to most.

      "Justin agreed," Claudia added. "So, Daerick, you know one of them?"

      A grimace. Daerick was not happy. "It felt like maybe five out of the entire battalion, but I saw two. One of them was Rachael. We knew each other when we were breathing, Angel turned us both." The CH in her name was pronounced softly, Ray-shale; it sounded like something from one of the Spanish dialects.

      "What is she in the SB?" Claudia asked.

      "Thing is, it puzzled me: she was in the Army when she was breathing and then retired or on reserve when I knew her, while raising her girl. But, I recall she was fairly high ranked and a Ranger. But, David agreed her rank there seemed to be Sergent. The other Vampyre was more highly ranked, a Lieutenant of some sort."

      Claudia thought Daerick misled or maybe puzzled without reason. She was pretty certain that officers, though officers, were considered by their subordinates less hard working. Claudia though Sergeants were one of if not the most highly ranked soldiers that still "worked for a living." It had to do with commissions. "I think Rachael chose that rank it has a certain logic I think, says something of her. Besides, that was another lifetime when she was in the Army the first time, if she is as old as you, perhaps she believed she needed the new training. Can you tell me anything else?"

      Daerick shrugged. He seemed to cloak himself, at least Claudia could not read his thoughts on the subject. "She doesn't like him," David offered and Daerick's glare said that David had gotten through the mental blocks.

      "It's just like I said, we knew each other when Human, or Angel knew the both of us. They were really close, and Rachael didn't like that Angel had boyfriends. We also both were in the group that took the Vatican with Angel. Rachael would not want to be known as that same Vampyre Rachael by all these crackerjacks here. She also has human descendants in America she protects, maybe that's why she isn't pulling rank."

      "Was that so hard?" Claudia asked, "You could have just said that. So, any idea who this other Vampyre was?"

      "I picked up the name Camile, that's all. But there's more interesting things than Vampyres there, ask David."

      "David," Claudia called softly. He was glaring at Daerick now. They really didn't seem to like each other.

      "There are two Jewels in the SB. Julien Jewel is Second Lieutenant of the Platoon Rachael is part of. The other is Jareth Jewel a Private in same platoon. Jareth says they are the only two of the family in the SB. But, I picked up that J.J., as they call Julien, is the Lieutenant Colonel's lover, and much hated by the rest of the SB for that and his name."

      "Fortunately, we know some things about the Jewel family and Vampyres and we should be able to start with them in winning over the SB," Claudia said. "Miko, Erik and the rest of the crew can dig up what they can and we've got enough of the Goth here to be charming to many more of the SB."

      "I think this whole plan ill advised," David said.

      "Well, you are not even Elder, but I take your opinion under advisement as I consider you a trusted adviser," Claudia said in the very manner they dealt with differences among the Goth. She didn't intend to follow David's suggestion. "Now, Justin tells us the Gaul who were close have turned south, most likely to gather reinforcements and take on the Americans, regardless of their orders to remain with us and use their force only to restrain and protect us. We only need to deal with the SB right now. John should be back from Honeymoon soon and when others come into range we can deal with each."

      "If you don't need further help with the animals Erik and I will go pass the word to the crew," Miko said. "Please tell Gloria or Quentin when you have drained the carcasses, they are on butchering detail for today."

      "Very well," Claudia said with a nod.

                      †               †               †

      They had to make the attempt, couldn't be steadfast and not give any effort to getting into France. The Goth had their vehicles packed and loaded and during night and in snow flurries they made a move southwest. Claudia was in the lead car, John's hovercar still kept for the purpose of being a fast, manuverable scout vehicle. The Sacred Battalion must have watched carefully, for they were prepared to move.

      No sooner did the engines start than the soldiers materialized from the deeper shadows in their dark camo. The lights they shone in Claudia's eyes were particularly painful. "We see you are trying to move, Lady Claudia," one of them called and having full telepathy now Claudia new this was a Private named Dan and that he had a tranq aimed at her breast. "Lower the hovercar onto its underwheels and shut off the engine. We have orders from Alexandria to keep you from entering France."

      As he was speaking, several vehicles behind broke from the line, Sascha's RV pulled out at Claudia's left. Several shots rang from the rock in the area and the large recreational vehicle swerved as its front tires exploded despite self sealing layers and steel webbing. Another car, far to the left, was blocked by three motorbike-mounted soldiers, and then spotlit by them as Aaron tumbled out one door.

      Claudia shut down the jets and then the engine. They were really quite well prepared she saw. They had light maneuverable vehicles, plenty of manpower, disabling weaponry, and assault weaponry. "I want to see your commanding officer now!" Claudia insisted as she exited the car.

      Rachael stepped into the light. Claudia recognized her right away thought they had never met. She was able to shield her mind well, but Claudia could sense Rachael was unlike the many Vampyres she had met before, she was very much Angel's, American and New School. This woman would have no tolerance for attempts at teasing her bloodlust or archaic romantic rites. It was also clear she had no desire for the rather common climbing of the preternatural ladder by offering oneself to an older more powerful Vampyre in exchange for their blood which would give one more power.

      "Occupied, you may speak to me, Lady Claudia," Rachael said. She walked closer, slim but not without definition of her female figure and smoothing sprigs of gloss-chocolate hair under her cap. Her right hand remained close to the gun on her hip.

      Claudia bowed politely and straightening noticed the slightest wrinkling of Rachael's nose. She said nothing aloud, but the words came to Claudia's mind, "We thought someone had been turned after those others passed through, I didn't quite expect you...and pregnant."

      Claudia made a smaller bow of her head in admission. "It changes nothing politically, though David has played right into Angel's plans."

      "I and all the Battalion serve Alexandria here," Rachael said flatly. It was much the accent Daerick had. So, she would not be flustered by mention of Angel and felt nothing it seemed regarding schemes between Vampyres.

      "Rachael," Claudia said, using the woman's name for the first time, "We must go into France; we can do good there."

      A laugh and then Rachael's fingers moved slowly from left to right in front of her as if trying to catch a small, invisible, slow-moving object. She spoke, but Claudia only saw the rippling movement of one finger after another. 

      "We simply can't go into France," Claudia sighed finally. Rachael laughed and it occurred to Claudia that she had said something out of character. Claudia squinted her eyes shut, concentrated. Rachael had suggested she say that, suggested that Claudia simply couldn't go into France. "Very Lugosi of you," Claudia said and then opened her eyes, on guard should Rachael dare the trick again.

      The American soldier was laughing softly. She danced the fingers of both hands through the air, "I saw it in that Jedi show actually...but I suppose Dracula would have done it rather beautifully if he were any more real."

      Jedi, yes. "We will go into France."

      Rachael smiled. She eased her hand from her gun. That was a positive sign. "Perhaps...when we say you may."

      "Perhaps," Claudia said.

      Rachael stepped backward into the shadows of the trees again and around her her soldiers knew to follow. Soon Claudia realized she was standing in the snow with Sascha next to her.  

                      †               †               †

      Elonwey had suggested he leave, he really thought she had done so selflessly. Still, John had remained closeted, as it were, with his newest bride for nearly two days. He was needed. He smiled, he was immensely fond of the girl after all, and then he left the vehicle. John had a picture in his mind of Elonwey and Claudia running into each other. "Lady Claudia," Elonwey would say and curtsey low. "Lady Elonwey," Claudia would say and curtsey low. Both would smile almost smugly then go their separate ways.

      John shook the images from his mind. It was full morning and the tribe were about their various tasks. Justin was standing in a central area where John approached him. "Sure you want to be back?" Justin asked in good humor.

      John smiled warmly, he thought so. "I'm back. Any news?"

      Justin gestured to Sasha's RV and John noticed the jack beside the bare front wheel. "Claudia had us try to rush the SB," Justin explained. He went inside the trailer then. Sascha had Jayne and Erik with her and several of their machines. They called their greetings as John came up the last step. "He's back, so, let him have the latest positions," Justin said to Sascha.

      The red-head smirked. She stood and pulled down a shade with wall map taped to it. With light-pointer she gestured to the area they were located in. They were on the outskirts of a city called Mulhouse across the Doubs from its downtown section. "Spanish and Gaul soldiers are all throughout this area," Sascha said gesturing with red spot of light to points south and west of the nearby city. "The Swiss are within short march or easy ride." Naturally, they were very close to the Swiss border here.

      "The SB have had skirmishes with forces out of Gaul," Justin added in, "It's a common route for returning troops from Germany, all of Goth really."

      "We're tracking several separate groups to the east," Sascha said again gesturing to the map with pointer. "Gaul, Gaul, Spain, PU, SCB, Spain and Rowan," Sascha listed with changes of the pointer. They were pretty well surrounded.

      John frowned. "And I take it the Americans of the SB are keeping us here?"

      Sascha nodded.

      "Aaron was actually hit with a tranq dart," Jayne said.

      "Yes, out for several hours," Justin confirmed, "Plus three vehicles are missing tires and several others their lights. We'd have to get into the city to get replacements and the SB seem to consider any move toward the river a move into France."

      John nodded. "I do not want to just go back now." He dropped his head in consideration. There was no over. Under was too long an undertaking and would be noticed. North brought more river as west did. South meant even more Gaul soldiers and less contested land. East was just Goth. "We've got to get through the Sacred Battalion, or make them move around us to the east."

      "I know what you are getting at and it is too risky," Justin said. He meant alerting the SB of a threat to the East and counting on the fact that they did not want the embarrassment of having the Goth die because they had no orders concerning other forces being the ones to use more than restraining force.

      "Do we even know if they care what happens to us so long as we stay this far East?"

      "Claudia has been considering that," Jayne said. Her very tone suggested that John should want to see Claudia. He did of course, but there was a sense of trepidation in going to his wife again and seeing her fanged. John only nodded. "Who is their commander?"

      "I believe that is Lieutenant Colonel Gates," Justin said.

      John nodded again. "I will talk with him. Where is Alaric?"

      "Blood duty," Erik spoke up, sounded a bit disgusted by the thought.

      "I'll find him. Just we two will go. Sascha, while I do that, can you contact any person or place within the nearby French cities with your machines? Perhaps find what their state truly is."

      "Of course," Sascha said in promise.

      Yet another nod of the head and John was outside.

      He looked at the gray sky as he felt for the wind. It would snow. And the wind came from the north, cold. Alaric would have hunted into the wind usually, but the wind was such that John guessed they had gone south with rifles rather than bows.

      John walked quietly south of the camp. It even had the smell of coming snow. The animals would have been taking shelter. Still, John saw Alaric had done well. He'd never really doubted his friends abilities in a hunt. He and Quentin were draining the blood of their kills, the smell of death traveling south.

      "John," Alaric called, "Back so soon?"

      John smiled as he reached the other men. He might have been tempted to vulgar speech but Quentin was present and it certainly would have made him uncomfortable. "Elonwey understands it is not the most peaceful of times," he answered. "Are you almost finished here?"

      Alaric nodded. "Something up?"

      "Yes, but it occurs to me that we should position bloody carcasses and cook fires both upwind from the SB."

      "Pychological warfare, make them hungry for what you have," Alaric smiled, "I should have thought of that."

      John shrugged. "I would like you to go with me to meet LC Gates."

      Alaric gave a nod. "We should get cleaned up."

      John looked at Alaric's bloody hands and old jacket and then his own ill used clothing two days rumpled on the floor of Elonwey's van. "Speaking of Psychological warfare, why don't the boys ever have bath day? Perhaps in ancient times only the Romans cared for it, but times have changed. Goth cannot be smelly."

      Alaric grinned wide. "This is why you are the Leader," he chuckled and looked at Quentin. "If we moved just a little bit, perhaps waved to the spies they would see we are only settling in anew. We could position the larger vehicles in a line to the north where the coldest air comes from, and far enough that their headquarters is downwind those days. We'll begin to roast these deer and cook a good stew, maybe even bake some bread in one of the ovens. Then while some cook the rest can bathe about another fire and within sight of their field glasses. We'll wear them down yet."

      "We still have a few artisGoths with us," John said, perhaps for the time being they can settle in and work, set up stalls. We will not appear so much a threat as wandering venders to passing troops while the SB will." John gave a smile to Quentin who joined with his own.

      "I'll get to the arrangements right away," Quentin said.

      "I just thought of something else," John said, "If we cannot move further into France perhaps there are people able to travel to us. Take a message to Sascha. Have her tell anyone in the cities she contacts where we may be found and offer what help and shelter we can."

      "Yes, Leader, excellent idea!" Quentin said. He rushed to do his latest chores.

      Alaric sealed up the two containers half filled with blood. He left them in place and cut down one deer. Carrying about his shoulders he returned to camp. John lifted the other animal and carried it.

                      †               †               †

      The camp had been re-situated without misstep or error of any kind. Arrows had been sent aloft toward the American encampment with messages warning that their movements were not at this time efforts to pass into France. The Goth Peacekeepers had spotted Americans of the SB setting sensors into the ground on the opposite shore of the doubs river they were moving closer to. The small shift in location put them much closer to the river and source of fresh water but understandably the Americans would see it as being closer to a means of escape. Also, the location put them within sight of two different farms and thicker collection of houses across the waterway.

      Once the camp was settled, Alaric relayed John's plans for distracting psychological warfare. Wood was gathered for fires. There was ground cleared of dry grass and other flammable plant material. Teams went to the river for water. The large tubs were set out and placed close to fires being built. The water gatherers filled the tubs jug by jug.

      Karina took coals from the fire and sprinkled ground herbs on them so that they gave of a fragrant smoke. She put bundles of some plants into the larger fires to burn away. Gloria took the job of collecting the soaps from the places they were stored and bringing them to the tubs while Karina left to attend the skinning of the game so she might collect fatty tissue to cook down for use in new soaps. After the eating the bones would be boiled and Quentin and Gloria with Karina would split them to be dried and crafted into tools or ornaments. The skins always went to their tanner, Oak, who usually presented leathers to Quentin, or maybe Jeanette.

      When all was prepared, it was decided anyone who chose to might join in this bath day. John imagined it would be relaxing for all. And if all were welcome, Alaric would not feel out of place washing the dirt his son gathered in play from the boy as he bathed and the women would not feel they were being excluded. And this way, it remained about cleaning and no one had need to be more embarrassed than another about what was around them. Miko could send Ceci to the furthest tub from his while he threw his clothes aside quickly and washed.

      The young Elder was dressed in a bath sheet seconds after climbing from the tub and sat facing the fire as others who had washed did, drying their hair and replacing braids. John watched the towel clothed tribe members about the fire as he relaxed in the water. Vivianne, Joyce, and Ceci were assisting each other in bleaching or dying hair, with a more shallow basin before them for rinsing hair. Vivianne had a black dye she washed into her brown hair and the two Peacekeepers dutifuly maintained their red locks though the new Goth military did not demand this.

      Justin, and Sammy beside him, were standing fully dressed and armed as Elzbieta sat with her baby, Rozz, in a bath. He was still very small even for being four months or so. When the boy was clean, Elzbieta passed him up to Sammy who folded the infant into a soft blanket. John smirked behind his hand. It was really heart-warming to see the educated and superbly-trained Egyptian once chosen as the elite guard to the Union Capital and its High Lord now guard to this small woman and her child.

      John left his bath, dressed in a towel wrapped about his waist and sat with others near the fire. It was warm there, flames, steaming pots of water, and incense in the air. He took up a pair of scissors from his box and trimmed his hair in the haphazard way he usually did. John combed his fingers up through his hair to where he felt it was long enough and trimmed what stood above his knuckles.

      Little Alaric was dropped in front of him as his father's legs walked past. The boy smiled at John, reached for the scissors. He was about a year old, and able to stand on his own and take a few steps, but his vocabulary was limited and shifted from language to language. He wagged his finger as his mother would and said, "No, no, no."

      "That's right, no sharp things for Alaric," said the child's father from John's back.

      The boy put a hand on John's knee to balance himself and pointed then to the fire. John knew what he would say. "Hot!" the boy said excitedly and once he started on this word he might not stop saying it for some long number of minutes.

      "Yes, the fire is hot, don't touch it," John sighed as Alaric was picking damp clumbs of fallen hair off his shoulder. "So endearing and annoying all at once."

      "And you wanted one of your own," Alaric laughed. His hands were moving up and down either side of John's spine as his son continued to explain that fire was hot.

      "Alaric, do me next," Merideth said as she sat down beside John. She was dressed in a sheet draped to bare her back. She lifted her son under his arms and pulled him to her. She lifted a soft brush from a bag and went about parting and combing the child's hair. He was already in pajamas though it was afternoon and wore small socks and boots to keep his feet warm and clean.

      "Ja, Mein Liebling," Alaric said promising to rub oil into Merideth's back when he had done John's.

      "So, where are all our Nephillim Spawn?" John asked.

      "The males of them on a hunt," Merideth offered, "Claudia is with the other, Estasi. It was she who told me that Claudia craves sugar."

      "Odd because sugar usually throws off the mutated chemical balance of Vampyres, even blood with high blood sugar level effects them. It makes diabetics taste bad, just as garlic tastes bad in victims, not because of it's smell or taste but actually because it is a blood-thinner. Asprin does the same."

      "You mean just taking asprin will make Vampyres not drink all of your blood even if they bite you?" Alaric asked after John's explanation.

      John nodded. "There are a number of weird things like that that can cause them to feel weak or to pass up certain blood. The garlic thing has some amount of truth, only it has to be ingested within a window of time before being bitten. Even then they can still drink the blood, they just don't like it as much. If they were the sort to kill anyway, then that Vampyre probably wouldn't think twice about murdering the victim by other means just to spite them for having unappetizing blood. I wonder why she craves sugar, it should make her rather light-headed if she's eating it."

      Merideth shrugged. Alaric kissed the back of John's neck once then moved to Merideth. John turned his head and bowed to touch his nose to his shoulder. "What is that?" he asked and looked up to the bottle Alaric held.

      "I got it from Karina in trade for Rabbit's feet. Lavender and Rosemary, she says, supposed to make one calm and creative and clear-minded by its aroma. Not too flowery?"

      "It's sort of like flower-wood smell," John commented.

      "Karina and Sammy were raving over some lemon stuff when I got it, but I thought that smelled like furniture."

      "My husband is tactful," Merideth giggled. The child standing between her knees laughed aloud, only mimicking, he couldn't have understood the humor, John thought.

                      †               †               †

      John was dressed formally, as the sun was setting, having his best boots outside a snug pair of leggings and light shirt. He wore his sword belt and second higher belt from which hung his knife and small pouches of other personal items. Gloria had just given him a high choker necklace made of small strung bones which he wore in lieu of and tie or scarf. Of corse the crown was worn in his dried hair and he had even cleaned off his rosary bead earring and crucifix kept under his shirt along with the several rings he wore, all these silver and black. Lastly John put on a coat the artisGoths had recently made, bright red wool trimmed in black leather and embroidered across the back with gold eagle; it was cropped at the front in antique military fashion and had tails pinned away from the legs with buttons made of bone that matched the rows along the front. He buttoned half these and left the rest, to bear a triangle of soft black leather where the fabric folded over.

      Alaric likewise dressed in his best clothes, though his best jacket was the very blue of his eyes. Merideth brought John's black suede cloak and Alaric's overcoat of shimmery black nylon fabric. John thought they looked impressive and representative of what was Goth. Merideth took pictures, and this reassured John's opinion.

      Elonwey had been preparing a gift basket to take to the Colonel and gave it to John now. He kissed her softly, slightest brush, so as not to ruin the perfectly achieved rosy gloss of his lips.

      David appeared. He held a small thin object toward John. He smiled in seemingly disingenuous manner. "I don't really approve of your plans in general, but I know if Joy or Morpheus were here, they would say you were wanting this. John recognized the object then as he took it. It was a pencil for drawing on skin, more specifically black and made for tracing lines about the eyes. John had worn such make-up during the time he had traveled with Joy and David. It made sense David would think of it, maybe that he would possess some.

      John shrugged, anything might help. He went to the nearest mirror attached to vehicle and traced a thin line under each eye. Wiping gently with the side of his fingers with upward motion the line was made thinner and less obvious but the eye itself seemed brighter and dramatic. John begrudgeingly thanked David.

      "Make-up?" Alaric asked as he took the pencil.

      "War paint if you like," John told him.

      "Make-up," Erik called, though not very loudly, "and it looks perfect, don't mock."

      "Very BCG," Alaric said finally and handed the pencil to John again. He tucked it into a belt pouch.

      Sascha and Miko came into the camp from somewhere beyond the line of vehicles and had bulging bags at each of their shoulders. Sascha looked breathless and Miko faint. "What happened?" John asked quickly.

      Miko shook his head. Sascha picked at the metal frame where it hugged her throat and then spoke, "No trouble, it's just we ran most of the way back...we made it to one of the farm houses. I think we might have been spotted coming back."

      Miko dropped the bag. He squatted and wiped his brow. John wondered what had possessed these two to go off alone, they were able bodied for sure, but there were trained Peacekeepers about for such tasks. "Sascha was planning on running out there when I came back to dress," Miko said, "I suggested bringing some items to trade. She told me that in the city things are rationed and many stores are closed."

      Sascha nodded. She seemed recovered. "Looks good," she said and pointed to her own eye, "I got through to several persons in the city and downloaded their local news. These cities in France were on rations but with the central government falling that system has come undone. There are waits for everything. They have the basics yet, the structure of utilities is intact, they all have water and heat and phone lines. But any food that is very processed, that is packed and distributed by factories is scarce. And much fresh food is limited to what the locals can produce them. They have enough fish and game, but little other meat. They have wine but little flour. And no one can afford luxury items, only plain soaps, the same type of local bread. No pastries are made or candies."

      "All right, but the farm?"

      "Miko and I gathered up anything we seemed to have a good amount of. You insisted, I knew, on being very well stocked, anticipating meeting people in need. We took them soaps, flour, rice, nuts..."

      "They went mad for peanut butter," Miko offered.

      "We were going to give them things, but they insisted to a trade. There are a few families on the one farm, some being relatives from other areas. They say it is easier than living in the cities. Here they can fish more and hunt and the far has a few dairy cows and chickens so that they have eggs and milk. They sell fruit from their orchard in the city, or barter rather, and the wine they make themselves. They told us another farm has vegetables, goats, and sheep. They trade for cows' milk and make various cheeses. Apparently the other farm also had cows but even dairy animals can be traded to butchers for a small fortune now. Anyway, we got plenty of good wine and fresh fruit and vegetables, a selection of cheeses. We gave them in trade flour as I said and oil. Also some of them were very happy to trade for anything with fragrance and dressier fabrics."

      "It's good wine?" John asked.

      Sascha nodded, "I tasted it."

      "Give me two bottles then, we'll give them to the Americans as a gift." John took up two of the recycled bare glass bottles and tucked them in the basket. Miko offered some cheese.

      "It's decent, they suggest shaving it into stew if not putting it on bread."

      "Alaric and I have business with the SB. Get whoever you need and make up a list of what we have to spare and what we need. We still have several vehicles that need some repair." John looked for Karina, "your knowledge of daily uses of plants will be of use, if they have wool but no dye or they lack perfumes. I don't see Oak, but he is our new tanner I understand, perhaps if they hunt but do not know leather making..."

      "I'll take a survey among all the remaining artisGoth," Sascha said, "with your permission."

      "Of course," John said.  He looked once more to Alaric. "We best make our way over to the camp if we plan to catch the officers at dinner time. "Actually, Karina if you could part with some of those oils and soaps, and if Gloria and Jeanette can spare a few garments or nice bits of fabric, I'm sure the American's are living off their army supplies."

      "Just a moment," Gloria said. She ran quickly to her trailer.

      Karina walked more slowly, grumbling that her work was never done.

      In a minute Alaric held a fabric bundle of red and gold tied with decorative cord and a small basket Karina had prepared of her best personal items. "I won't work just to give this stuff away to an entire battalion. Just because my supplies are entirely found in nature...it takes a lot of knowing to put it all together. When is someone going to ask what I want?"

      "What do you want, Dear Karina?" John asked.

      "Peace," she said.

      "I'm doing my best," John said with some amusement. Karina, like Elzbieta had been with them since the beginning and was fairly selfless. John wanted to give them what they deserved.

                      †               †               †

      John and Alaric were stopped by several guards as they approached the camp. None of them were recognizable, but then most of the time John had been on Honeymoon. Alaric couldn't say he recognized them. "We must see Lieutenant Colonel Gates," John told them. He waited as one of them further away called into a site to site radio communicator.

      The soldier holding the radio spoke as the closer ones remained still with weapons trained. "An escort will be here shortly to take you into our camp. You will wait for them to take you in."

      John nodded. He could see some of the camp now. All around the current perimeter metal stakes topped by some form of sensor device were pushed into the ground . As well lights that seemed to run off generator of battery were positioned throughout. Their location would be known to the Goth as well as other armies and so they did not attempt to hide but to give themselves excellent visibility and warning of attempts on their camp. Their vehicles were all positioned facing the outside of camp and at all sides so far as John could see. They sheltered in two main styles of building, a domed tent that the Goth had seen other American's use, which popped itself from folds within tiny bag to rigid shelter in seconds, as well as a elongated rectangular portable room that had rigid walls but clearly could be folded very flat and moved when needed.

      John saw a group of six soldiers jogging toward them. One of these spoke to the soldiers holding weapons and then the new one spoke to John, "We have been instructed to escort you to our camp's commanding officer."

      "Thank you," John said. He and Alaric walked aside each other as the soldiers walked ahead and behind them. None of them attempted conversation. As they went John studied more of their camp. A good number of the battalion were not currently on duty as guards and as the Goth were not moving and no other armies sought the battalion there was leisure time.

      Around them groups were gathered in various levels of uniform clothing, watching programs or conversing with others distant over their mobiles, sometimes playing games of chance with dice or cards or even small blocks. Some were eating. There was music playing in some areas they passed. One group of female soldiers had just washed their hair, at least, and were combing out their hair or neatly putting it into braids.

      They came to one of the rectangular shelters and another soldier told them they might enter. John stepped through the narrow doorway into a warm space. The sound of the door shutting behind said it was was thin as the walls were. The light within was warm, lamps and candles both. It occurred to John just then as he took in the interior that the colonel was not bad off at all, even out in the field.

      The man himself rose from a nearby desk against one wall and offered his hand with a wide smile. "Well, you must be the Leader of the Goth, John," he said and shook John's hand, "A well known face. I am Lietenant Colonel Regen Gates, commanding officer of the Sacred Battalion. And this is...Justin...no, please, let me think." He stood gazing at Alaric a moment. "Alaric...yes, I have pictures of most of your core tribe members...and Justin would have flinched rather reminding himself that he doesn't salute to me and call me Sir. What is he now? General Templeton of the Goth Peacekeepers."

      Gates shook Alaric's hand quickly then took a step back. There were others with him, and one that had just giggled. John looked over the room quickly. Only Gates was in black dress uniform, the others wore various states of their green. Besides the desk, with alight mobile and other devices, there was a foldable table with small round cloth draped over the square top and matching chairs. Several metal lockers stored some manner of things, maybe weapons or food. Two soldiers were seated on a foldable bench and another in a chair with comfortable seat of webbed straps it seemed. There was a folding screen that couldn't be military issue made of metal and silk and painted with figures of people and animals in oriental style. It was not drawn open completely and John could see behind a wide cot with ample bedding and seated on it a boyish red-head half dressed and drinking a Coke.

      John thought, he lived out of a trailer and that was not uncomfortable. Surely funded by the American government these soldiers had many things as at home, only portable. Gates kept in these personal quarters many ornaments of his own, posters, framed photos, even sculpture and civilian clothing.

      "These are some of my officers," Gates said and pointed out the man and woman on the bench, "Captains Mulder and Vasquez of companies A and B respectively." Vasquez was the large blond man, and Mulder the copper-skinned woman. "My personal aide, Captain Walker," Gates said of the pale figure in the chair. John guessed then he might very well be a Vampyre.

      "And who's this?" Alaric asked of the shirtless soldier now picking his nails with a knife.

      "Just my lover," Gates said plainly, "he insisted on staying and there weren't any regulations against it really."

      The young soldier pulled on a thin white tee then stood and walked out to meet them. "Julien Jewel, Second Luitenant Julien Jewel." He stood with his right hand on his hip and squinted slightly looking at John.

      "We brought gifts," John said, tried to ignore the young man next to him, he might have been the same age as John and continued in his forward stare.

      Alaric put one basket and the bundle on the table. John handed him the larger basket then. "Have you eaten dinner yet?" John asked.

      "No, have you brought food?" Gates asked.

      "Yes, actually, I hoped our meeting might be over dinner. I so hate the defensive posturing that seems to go on between politicians and soldiers both. We all call each other by first names."

      Gates laughed. "You may call me Rege in that case, John. I would be delighted to speak over dinner. To be honest, and really I'm certain Americans are comfortable with saying just what they mean as much as you new Goth, no one vied for this assignment. Our Battalion is rather highly decorated, has seen combat in the islands, Mexico, and North China. Besides, we'd comondeered an old luxury hotel in Paris for our base and it was rather enjoyable and deserved after we fought hard to enforce peace there. And then the High Lord sends us off on this unusual assignment. None of it is my choice."

      "I understand. We certainly didn't ask for Alexandria to interfere in our efforts and having been in France just before the war I have some idea of how bad it was and how it needed some order restored badly, even if force had to be used."

      "Still, orders are orders, and the High Lord is the highest position in our chain-of-command, we must keep you from wandering France and it is not our place to ask why."

      "I realize you have no real choice in the matter. Still, I must try to find a way to help our people in France. There are people in much need, especially since their own government collapsed."

      Alaric had arranged dinner at the table without really asking further permission. There were cuts of venison, rabbit stew, freshly baked bread, cheese and wine. Alaric set the plates and flatware out as they all pulled seats up to the table. Alaric sat and then finally J.J. as he was called.

      As they ate John asked questions of Rege and the others. He wanted to know their orders regarding his people. What Rege told him was that they had to stay with the Goth to make sure they did not go into France. "Aren't you concerned about being out here with so many other armies passing?" John asked.

      "If you left, so could we," Rege smiled. He took a sip of wine then. "Decent," he said.

      "Fairly local I understand."

      "Yes, acquired from a nearby farm," Rege said flatly, "Of course we know the every move of your tribe, at least, the ones with you here. Do you always bathe so publicly? It's the second time we've witnessed it, only the other day it seemed to be only women and they were more hidden."

      "Well, we really have nothing to be shameful of," John said politely, "when the ladies bathe they tend to share other things as well and would rather keep their mystery from the rest of the tribe."

      "I suspect various beauty treatments, muds, oils, sugars and so forth," Alaric said with glance to John in question.

      "Yes, waxes," John added.

      "Hot wax," Alaric said and shivered. It puzzled John. He looked casually over his fork and saw J.J. was still looking at him.

      The young soldier smiled. He spoke but it didn't seem he addressed John, "He's met Orchid."

      "You've been reading my thoughts all this time?"

      "Scanning into the mind actually, beyond surface thought. I was so sure Walker would do that, and I find it tedious."

      "Stop," John said, "they are my thoughts and memories." He tried to block, to recall what Morpheus and Orchid had both taught him, but John feared the simple blocks he knew how to visualize would not be enough.

      "You don't seem to be able to tell whether I do it or not, so there's little point in saying whether I have stopped or not, you wouldn't trust me."

      "Gates!" Vasquez cried.

      Rege tipped his head toward the disgruntled Captain then addressed J.J., "Jules, do act your rank, he's a Head of State. If you were doing it anyway you need not have announced it."

      Still J. J. smiled at John. "I've never actually met him."

      "Your namesake?" John asked, because Julien was Orchid's real name.

      "You even know that? Of course, you know he's fond of you. Ineffable charisma and all. I'm named after my great-grandfather, but he had the Vampyre namesake. I met Tris Jewel, and he's Darkling, half-brother to Caroline."

      "I thought Thierry Jewel was."

      "Our President," Rege said, "Caroline Jewel, is not the first Jewel named Caroline, and has a young half-brother who is an Halfangel. Jules here has visited the White House under weak pretense of visiting relatives." Rege spoke directly to J.J., "You are a rather distant cousin, Jules."

      "Those in New York and DC refer to the San Francisco branch of the family as new money, but I haven't seen much of the supposed fortune. Joining the army was my only opportunity to see the world."

      "David is in our camp," John offered, but I'm sure I could spare time at some point if you want to hear of my few travels."

      "You've met other old ones, haven't you, I'm sure Walker here would love to hear of them."

      "Not so many," John said. He hadn't come to impress the poor cousin of the Jewel family he'd come to influence the Lieutenant Colonel who led the Battalion. "I'd really like to ask you questions," John said addressing the group. "It's been longer since I was in Paris. How is it now? And do you have much news of America? I know of the support of the Union in war, but not of the people at home."

      "As with your own country, I'm sure, there are those in the population for and against. But our senate has approved the Joint Presidents' support of the Union's war effort," Mulder said.

      "My father is living in America, in California. He wanted me to join him there along with my sister. I refused so that I could serve my people here, and I do mean all people."

      Rege nodded and Mulder shrugged. "We've read all about you," Rege said afterward. "We will not be falling into your tribe at any time like those you have swayed, so long as we have our orders."

      "What about you, Vasquez, did you enjoy Paris?" Alaric asked then took a sip of wine.

      The Captain nodded. "The Parisians tended to treat us well and with welcome. Once we arrived, the militant rioters against the Union pulled south with little resistance. The most recent riots were caused by the immense shortages of goods and need for safe housing."

      "We hope the Parisian and French contractors will come forward, but if not our engineer core can at least survey the damage and clear all the rubble. They've been fixing temporary supports to structures worth preserving and tearing down others that can't be repaired to make way for rebuilding."

      "It will take years," Rege said, "I understand you were present at the Day of Bombs?"

      "Yes. Terrorists had positioned bombs transport terminals and on major roadways in order to trap people inside the city or keep others from coming in to aide either side. But, they did not care to use calculation as expert demoloitionists do. There was a lot of...overkill. The shockwaves destroyed many buildings and killed people across the city. One of the older Vampyres had lived in the time of the atom bombs, had actually been in Japan. She said it felt similar."

      All nodded solemnly. That had been a dark time in history, especially for America who had used those bombs.

      "I'm afraid that before that, the city might have been saved, if we had come then," Rege said, "but it was before war was even declared, before Gaul officially broke from France, by days, but still before. After the Day of Bombs, much of the city remains leveled. Many walked with their possessions on their backs out of Paris to the country. The government of Paris never recovered and so order could not really be reestablished."

      "We know," Alaric said, "I have read stories from other reporters that sent back word that the dead and dust that settled in rivers was carried out of Paris and horrified or poisoned other towns downstream. This is just what we mean to help."

      "Yes," John agreed. "I know you say you can't let us pass, but you do know that if we could travel we might help them. Goth is not rich, but Germany was fairly well off just prior to the war and all of Goth now has proportionately few losses of its population and infrastructure. We have some small number of skilled professionals that can train others. I could offer all our resources in aiding France. In history it's been written of wars between the different peoples and countries of Europe. This is exactly what I wish to stop. All past crimes forgiven to all sides, we wish to bring other peoples to our own."

      "You will aide those who join your nation," Vasquez said, "That is rather dictator of you."

      "It only sounded like that to you," J.J. said, "the thought never occurred to him."

      "Thank you, but I can speak for myself," John said. "It's true I would like others to join us, but it has never been a prerequisite for being given aide. We gave assistance to American's as well as Spanish at the Battle of Danube Valley. All received what care we could provide."

      Vasquez bowed. They had not been present, those Americans had had died in the main, but for a few like Justin, now scarred and carrying wounds.

      "It's not relevant whether you can help France or not," Rege said finally, "The High Lord speaks for the Union and his orders are clear: It is not wished for the Goth to interfere in France. You can't know the plans of Alexandria, and I can't even know all their plans unless they see fit to inform me. It could be some other group is already moving to bring help. Even if not, bringing that help is not for us to decide."

      "I so hate politics at times." John sighed, "I see that politics includes so many decisions we make in life, and our power to effect things around us, but at times, we feel politically powerless, or that some are using their decisions and influence to maneuver others. That can hurt. You are Americans, Captain Walker here is clearly Nephillim Spawn, and I'd guess Azyurian unless hair is died and contacts worn in the eyes or unless little Dolores managed to turn another larger than herself." John shook his head. "General Angel has called for every one of her own children not serving in the war already to join the VC. If not for the USNA's particular agreement, any of her children you do have here could have been forced into serving in the VC. Might have seen the horror of the Battle of Daube Valley, or the sugar grenades of the PU, or chased Swiss into their homeland to scale mountains on rationed blood. Goth is a new nation, so all of our Darkling were subject to drafts. We asked to renegotiate with the Union after forming Goth, and the High Lord has refused to meet with my ambassadors. Whatsmore, I believe he is keeping us from France for personal reasons that should not enter into war or politics."

      "It's very comic book, like having to risk your whole Battalion to save a girlfriend or boyfriend because they were foolish enough to chase after you into a battlefield," Alaric added.

      "I realize you have orders, but maybe Shade heard someone near him was concerned for Claudia or I, and so he asked Caroline if he could use your Battalion to keep me safe?"

      "I wish you had proof," Rege sighed, "Regardless, I must deny you passage into France, no matter who you know in Alexandria."

      John rose and then bowed low with accompanying flourish of his right arm. "Excuse my leaving, please," he said as he was standing. Alaric stood at his side, looking attentively to those around him. "It was a pleasure meeting you all," John said as pleasantly as he could. Rege was tough, would not easily be won over. J.J. seemed easily swain, but no one would put him in charge of a Battalion.

      Rege and the others rose from their seats. "I thank you for dinner then," Rege said, "No hard feelings?"

      John shook his head slightly. "No doubt we'll meet again."

      "Looking forward to it," Rege said with wide amused smile.

      John made half a smile as he turned. Alaric fell in beside him immediately. Somehow, John thought he should have been able to sway them. He wished then he could read minds.

      "Let them show themselves out of camp," an order called from within. It sounded like it must be Walker, the others had spoken enough to sound familiar. One called Camile, Rachael, and Walker...somewhere there were two more. And who's brood did Walker belong to?

      They were just at the edge of the American camp, in sight of the lights of their own. "How did you see things?" John asked Alaric.

      "Walker doesn't want to say where his blood comes from, Vasquez is hiding something about Paris, Rege is way too permissive with J.J., Mulder has issues with men - or maybe felt out of place just then - and J.J. is obtuse, I suppose would be the word."

      John nodded, "I thank you for your journalist's eye in observation. I didn't get that much. I did think for a moment Mulder was defensive of America, perhaps because she knows people there who spoke roughly toward her for fighting in this war. And Right off, I thought Rege very purposely trying to show he wasn't at all impressed or influenced by me."

      "It's clear that the men believe Julien Jewel is allowed too much, because his family is famous or because he is with their commanding officer, but they don't seem to think badly of Gates, only Jewel. He's undoubtedly got charisma of his own. Besides, and likely subconsciously, he sees you as a rival, another charismatic attractive man with a stake in the war, and whether he knows it or not he's trying hard to look your equal, your superior even. He acts so amused by everything you do, but it's not really the sort of laughter you give when something is funny. It's more he's making a point of laughing off what worries him most."

      "You think?" John asked.

      Alaric nodded and touched John's shoulder reassuringly. "When he spoke of the baths, he acted amused, but really I thought he was worried that his soldiers are very much alive and even the famous sacred Battalion might be tempted by outsiders."

      "You think they are all each other's lovers?"

      "The original Sacred Battalion was entirely couples, according to legend. It was thought they fought feircely because they were all fighiting for their own lives, their state, and their lover besides. I'm guessing that although they are one of the American's controversial segregated groups, and decorated, this Sacred Battalion is just like other military forces. Some amount of them have sweethearts at home, others look to their teammates for companionship, but probably not all."

      John nodded. "I don't know much about them, but Rege made it sound they have fought many difficult battles to victory. So, perhaps your theory is correct. J.J. and Rege were very open about being lovers, but I was not sure of the motivation there. You and I have never been so forward about the details of our friendship, but I have not tried to hide it either. And before we were married Claudia and I did not announce being lovers, though many assumed it."

      Alaric kissed John's cheek playfully as they came into camp. It was dark then and all were inside but for a few at one remaining fire. "So how's the new wife?" Alaric asked.

      John choked a laugh.

      "Claudia told you to do it, didn't she; has issues with her change?"

      "You know too much, Alaric," John said plainly. "Elonwey is quite enjoyable as a wife. Whatsmore she really does care for the Goth and what I have tried to do; only she's more a follower than a leader, so she doesn't seem active in what we do to those watching."

      "Passionate as you are you've no will to make her know what she really desires?"

      "She desires me," John said and crossed his arms, stopping in his steps toward the fire.

      Alaric shrugged, better drop the subject. "You both think so...no matter."

      John nodded. It shouldn't matter to Alaric, except he understood John and his work perfectly. Alaric could easily replace John, he could lead as easily as follow. John saw then how Alaric was double-talking, speaking of how attitudes in life were like attitudes toward lovers. John sighed. Elonwey was devoted and a follower, and good in that role, but Claudia was complement and equal to John in every way.

      "I'm going to find Claudia," John said then teased, "You look much too dashing to waste the outfit further on me. Find your wives."

      Alaric made an elegant bow. He'd probably planned that all along, the seeking of the wives. He was like Claudia in that way, knew what John would want of him before John spoke...could lead as easily as follow.