Blood Legacy: The Story of Ryan Part 15

She listened patiently as the footsteps came up the staircase. Within moments, her faithful servant came through the doors. He bowed his head in subservience, but his tone was chiding.

"It is worse than we thought."

Ryan sighed. "No, Edward. I am certain it is worse than I thought. But nothing is ever as bad as you believe it to be. What news?"

Edward began without preamble. "The men are employees of a biotechnical and pharmaceutical firm known as Grantech International. I obtained a meeting today with the owner, a Mr. Alan Grant. He is a man most impressed by his own limited capabilities."

Ryan smiled at his editorializing as Edward continued.

"He is quite interested in Dr. Ryerson's research and apparently quite willing to go to great lengths to obtain it."

Ryan leaned back, stretching her neck. "Is he as ruthless as I am?"

Edward shook his head. "I have yet to meet your equal, my lord," he said dryly.

Ryan again smiled. "Enough of your flattery. Did you convince him of the error of his ways?"

Edward was thoughtful. "I left him an oblique warning. There is nothing more dangerous than a petty man with power. I did not wish to corner him, but to let him know that Dr. Ryerson is not without allies."

Ryan absorbed this information, silently pondering Edward's words.

"Who is watching Dr. Ryerson and her son now?"

"There are three of your best men guarding her as we speak. There are another four standing by should a situation develop."

Ryan was thoughtful. "Well, it seems that if anything is to happen to Dr. Ryerson, it will happen on my watch. I have had sentries posted on her 24 hours-a-day from the moment I saw that article, and yet twice now I have been the one to defend her."

"I don't believe you would have it any other way, " Edward said. He glanced at her shrewdly. "And I think these fortuitous events are due to more than fortune."

Ryan glanced at him from beneath lowered brows, but did not speak.

Edward continued. "I have long been aware of your ability to look back in time with such acute perception. I wonder if you do not look forward as well."

Ryan was quiet for a moment, then shook her head. "That is not my gift."

The odd inflection caused Edward to look over at her. It was obvious, though, that she was not going to elaborate, so he did not ask.

Both settled into silence and Ryan's thoughts drifted to the events of the night before. She was slightly angry with herself. In her attempt to remain at a distance from Dr. Ryerson, she had allowed her to be injured. She pondered what other mistakes she had made in the confrontation.

"I should not have let those men live," she said at last.

Edward did not disagree with her. "One of the men has already succ.u.mbed to his injuries. One is still unable to speak. But the third has told his story many times. Fortunately he is incoherent, and has very little credibility at this time. But who knows what time will bring?"

Ryan nodded. "I concur." She turned to him. "Will you see to it that neither lives to see the dawn?"

Edward bowed. Now this was the Ryan he knew. "I live to serve you," he said, a gleam in his eye. "And the leader of Grantech?"

Ryan took the silver case from her pocket. She stared at the inscription on it. "Leave him be. I trust your warning will be enough for the time being. If he persists in this misguided direction, I will deal with him myself."

Edward nodded, then left to carry out her bidding.

Ryan turned her attention back to the fire. Details, details.

CHAPTER 20.

JASON PRESSED HIS FACE AGAINST THE GLa.s.s to get a closer look at the mummy's remains.

"Ahem," the museum attendant said, clearing his throat loudly. Susan stepped forward and pulled her eager son back.

"Not so close, kiddo, they don't want you to wake him up."

Jason squealed with laughter, moving on to the next exhibit. This one held artifacts and talismans the mummy had been buried with. The carved alligator particularly fascinated him.

Susan glanced around her, searching for Ryan's face in the crowd. They moved from the Egyptian exhibit to one covering the Middle Ages. Jason wasn't much interested in the cooking pots or farming equipment, but he was fascinated by the suits of armor and weaponry.

"Do you think you could lift one of those?"

Susan turned, surprised to see Ryan standing right next to her. Jason's eyes grew wide in recognition. He turned back to the broadsword she referred to. "I don't know," he said doubtfully, "it looks kind of heavy."

Ryan nodded. "It's very heavy." She pointed to the suit of armor. "So are those." She glanced at Susan. "In hindsight it seems a very silly way to fight." She bowed in her somewhat chivalrous manner. "Thank you for meeting me here, today."

Jason raced on to the next exhibit. "What do you know about these?" he asked.

Ryan glanced at the display case. "Those swords are for thrusting. See how they're narrow at the end? They're not that great for chopping," Ryan accented this comment with an imaginary swing, "But they're great for slipping right between here." Ryan leaned down and poked Jason in the ribs. He giggled, a little nervously.

A small crowd of people was gathering around a carpeted platform where one of the museum curators was speaking. Ryan, Susan, and Jason moved closer. Ryan eyed the ancient weapon the man held in his hands. It was nearly as long as he was tall.

"An English longbow," Ryan whispered to Susan, "or at least a good replica."

The museum curator was speaking. "These were used around the first part of the 14th century and were the deciding factor for the English army against the French."

"Until gunpowder," Ryan said somberly. Susan glanced over at her tone of voice, then turned back to the man.

"It takes over a hundred pounds of pull to even draw the string," the curator intoned, "and there's no guarantee of accuracy even if you can pull it."

The curator made a valiant effort and drew the string back to perhaps half its capable distance. He let the string go with a tw.a.n.g. A few in the crowd clapped. He turned back to the crowd. "Is there anyone here who'd like to try?"

Two younger men had been watching the display with interest. They wished to try their hand at the bow. The curator waved them onto the platform to the polite applause of the crowd. The curator handed the first the bow. "Now be careful. But go ahead and try."

The first young man grasped the bow and with a great show, pulled the string back perhaps a little further than the curator. He handed it triumphantly to his partner, who repeated the effort, pulling it back a little further than his friend. The crowd again politely applauded.

Ryan watched them, her ever-present amus.e.m.e.nt in her eyes. "It helps if you use correct technique," she murmured to Susan. Jason tugged on her shirt.

"Why don't you try?"

Ryan shook her head. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

Susan turned to her. "No, why don't you give it a try? It would be interesting."

Ryan looked from one to the other. "I really don't think I should."

Susan raised her hand, waving to the curator. "Here's someone who'd like to try!"

Ryan sighed in exasperation and cast Susan a baleful look. The curator waved her on. "Certainly. We're equal opportunity employers. Come on up here and give it a try."

The curator's comment was met with good-natured laughter from the crowd. When Ryan stepped up onto the platform, however, the crowd grew oddly silent. She took the bow then held it, testing its balance. She turned to Jason who gazed up at her expectantly.

"This is much easier to do," she said, "if you do it correctly."

The curator glanced from the woman to the boy, feeling he had just been subtly insulted. "I've studied some of the finest scrolls available from that time period. James of Avalon described in detail the use of the English longbow. I've never had anyone come in here and pull it to its full length."

Ryan ran her hand down the length of the bow, testing for any imperfections. "And I never met James of Avalon," she said.

The curator started to reply to the ridiculous remark, but the woman's next actions stopped him cold. Ryan reached over and removed an arrow from the wall. She notched it expertly and glanced at the curator. "The longbow," she said in the voice of instruction, "is dependent not so much on the strength of the bowman, but on the length of his arms."

Ryan took a slight breath, held it, then, instead of pulling the string towards her she pushed the bow away. The curator, as well as the crowd, was stunned. Holding the string in place, she continued to speak.

"The trick is to utilize the full length of your arm, by doing this." The bow was now pulled taut and the arrow was ready to fly, tremendous force behind it. Ryan turned it directly on the curator, who was suddenly quite nervous when faced with the formidable weapon on the verge of being loosed.

"And as for accuracy," Ryan said, turning slightly to his right, "that just takes practice."

She loosed the arrow and the it flew past the curator's head. The projectile flew true, impaling an ancient bra.s.s pot on the wall nearly 200 feet away. The arrow had flown with such force it pierced through the bottom of the pot and embedded itself into the wall a good three inches. The pot dangled from the arrow.

The curator was stunned by the display. No one had ever been able to fully draw the longbow, let alone use it with such deadly accuracy. The crowd was stunned as well, and it was Jason who finally broke the silence.

"Yay!" he cheered.

Led by the boy's example, people in the crowd began to clap, hesitantly at first, then louder.

"Oh my," Ryan said, eyeing the pot with slight chagrin. She set the longbow down and removed some money from her pocket. She counted out several thousand dollars and handed it to the flabbergasted curator. "I think that will cover the damage," she said, "if not, I know where I can find you another one."

Ryan stepped down from the platform, rejoining Susan. Those who might have been moved to pat her on the back rethought the impulse. A few were brave enough to mumble congratulations under their breath and move on.

Ryan glanced down at Jason. "There. Are you satisfied?"

Jason gazed up at her in devotion. "You could never be Robin," he said.

Ryan looked at him in puzzlement. "What?"

Jason shook his head at his own miscalculation. "You could never be Robin," he said, "you would have to be Batman."

"Oh," Ryan said in understanding, "I see. Well, then you'll have to be Robin."

"Really," Jason asked excitedly. "I could be your sidekick?"

Apparently Ryan was highly amused by this suggestion. "Hmmm. I think you'll have to ask your mother."

Susan was not certain she wanted Jason worshipping a person this dangerous. Jason was oblivious to his mother's misgivings.

"Maybe we should buy you one of those," he continued thoughtfully, staring at the longbow.

Ryan glanced at the bow and laughed. "No thanks," she said, "too many bad memories."

Ryan climbed the steep cliff behind Victor. Neither climbed with difficulty and Victor reached the precipice only a short time before Ryan. He stood gazing out over the valley below.

Needing neither food nor sleep, he and Ryan had traveled alone for three days and three nights. They had traveled on foot at a speed which Ryan would not have imagined possible. She had needed to stop occasionally, not being as strong as Victor, but she understood why Victor had left his menservants behind with the horses. Even the horses would not have kept up with them, and they would have needed to stop and rest. They would catch up, perhaps in several days, bringing with them their supplies and armor. All Ryan and Victor carried were their weapons.

Ryan stood, also gazing out into the valley below. There was a light fog covering the scene, but even without her preternatural eyes, the sight was an awesome one.

Tents were spread the entire length of the valley, thousands of them. Ryan had not known there were that many people in the entire world, let alone gathered in one army. It made her wonder why this King needed Victor's help.

Victor smiled down at his charge's wonder. He had seen larger armies, and would so again. He returned his gaze to the valley below and frowned. It was not a strategic position for an army. Either this King was utterly foolish or in too great a hurry. Victor motioned for Ryan to follow and started down the hill.

Ryan frowned for her own reasons and let her hand rest comfortably on the hilt of her sword. She started down the hill after him.

They approached the edge of the camp and an alert rippled through the encampments nearest them. Their approach was greeted with much interest and men began to gather as they neared. It seemed odd that a man and a boy should appear out of nowhere, on foot, carrying with them nothing but their swords.

Ryan could see the awe in the men's faces, but even then it was difficult to imagine how the two of them appeared.

The soldiers saw a man, taller and broader through the shoulders than nearly any man they had ever seen. A man who moved with an unusual grace and power, a man whose image seemed to ripple with the mist that he walked through. His companion was tall as well, but slender, and as fair as the man was dark. Both possessed an unnatural beauty, a beauty that even the comeliest of la.s.ses would not wish to compete against.

A sentry stepped forward as if to challenge the pair but a single icy glance from the dark-haired man froze the man in his tracks. The guard felt his innards seem to liquefy and he could do little but step back as the two pa.s.sed.

The word of their coming continued to ripple through the camp and it was not long before a knight came forward to escort Victor to the inner circle. Ryan waited patiently outside as Victor was ushered into a resplendent tent.

Ryan was preoccupied with her own thoughts and ignored the stares of the men around her. She fingered the hilt of her sword, drawing comfort in its familiar feel. She wondered idly where they would sleep as they had not carried tents with them.

"Where are your horses, boy?"

Ryan turned to the man who was standing too closely to her and staring. She could smell the alcohol on his breath and wondered if the rest of the army was in the same state of readiness.

Ryan gazed at him silently for a long moment, and just when the man was beginning to squirm in discomfort, she replied coldly. "They will catch up."

This brought much laughter from the surrounding crowd that was watching the exchange. They thought the boy had made a clever reply, not realizing Ryan was telling the truth. The man muttered something to himself and stumbled off.

Victor pulled the flap of the tent aside and exited. He bent down, whispering in Ryan's ear.

"We will bed with the King's company tonight, and until our company arrives. Tomorrow I will meet with the knights to plan strategy. We may be in Agincourt before the new moon."

Ryan kept to herself over the next few days. She could hear the whispers of the men, as loudly as if they had been shouting in her face. There was much discussion revolving around the dark Lord and his fair companion. Some of it was ribald speculation regarding their relationship. Ryan was more amused than angered by this talk; the truth was far more illicit than even they could imagine. Other talk circulated about the Lord's alleged fighting prowess; some spoke in awe, their tone hushed. Others professed doubt, no matter how imposing his appearance.