The Heart of War (43 page)

“I couldn’t stop her, Mother.”  Ares let out a moan.  Breathing returned to normal and his heart rate seemed to be chugging along nicely, speech was good, and he could move his hands at will.  The feeling of looking up at the world from a deep hole faded until he felt he was only lying in a small crack.  “What was that?  What did that Wizard do to me?”

Zeus stepped up to the plate.  “Get out of the way, woman,” he said brusquely and gave Hera’s feet a little swat with his staff.  “Go get our Son something to eat, bring him Nectar.  How’s your supply of Ambrosia?”

“Nearly nonexistent,” Ares complained.  While he could ferment his own Nectar, Ambrosia was only found on Olympus and he had been forced to ration a small supply of it since his exile.

“Get him some. Go, don’t just stand there, make yourself useful, Wife.”

Hera began to protest but then closed her mouth. Zeus may want to speak to Ares about something privately, but he did not have to be so rude about it.  Giving him a heated stare, she disappeared from the bedroom.

“Let me have a look at you, my Son,” Zeus said with a kind smile as he reached for the thick hides on the bed to uncover Ares, but Ares grabbed his hand.

“What do you want, Father?  Let’s cut the bullshit now that Mother’s gone.  What is it?”

“Hmm? Oh, nothing, nothing,” Zeus mumbled cheerily.  “I know we’ve had our differences, Ares, but I’ve always respected you.  No, no, I have,” he protested when he saw the look in Ares’ eyes and thought he was about to be ridiculed.  “I just want to take care of my star warrior, have to keep you in top condition.”  Again, he tried to pull down the hide but Ares would not let go.  “I see your strength is returning.”

“I thought Alena was the star today.”

“Are you going to let me look at you or not?”

Ares did want to know what happened to him.  “Fine.”  He let go of Zeus’ hand and lay there while the Old Man ran his hands in the air just above Ares’ body from head to toe.

Zeus was very pleased at what he found.  The spell was strong but it would take a day or two, or even three to fully kick in.  That was plenty of time for Ares and Alena to take down Cernunnos.  Once that was done, if Ares should rip that little Celtic Fey Whore to shreds with his bare hands, well, it was no sweat off Zeus’ back.  Two birds with one stone.  He would get his vengeance on Cernunnos and he would not have to suffer the presence of the defiant Fey for long.  Besides, it was not as though he could break the spell, there wasn’t even sense in trying.  Cernunnos was powerful and he had instilled a good deal of that power in his right hand man, Adrian.  If Cernunnos would not dispel the spell, there was nothing anyone could do and it would run its slated course.

 Or so he thought. 

However, he could remove the bruising and discoloration on Ares’ chest and he could take away the pain he must be feeling.  That would buy him favor, so he did.  With his hands hovering in the air just over Ares’ flesh Zeus let out a gentle blue stream of healing energy that settled into Ares’ chest and turned his flesh to its normal color.  “You’re going to be just fine, my Son. Back to your old self in no time,” Zeus assured, glad that he had been able to diagnose the problem before Hera who now would not even look for one.  “It was just an energy bolt; I bet you’re feeling better already.  Sit up.”

“Where did those come from?” Ares pointed at the Chains sitting on his nightstand. “Last I knew they were in your dungeon. How do you suppose Cernunnos got a hold of them?” There was no mistaking the accusation in Ares’ deep voice.

“You think it’s me who’s plotting against you?” Zeus huffed. “I have already told the others, I have no idea how he got them. I don’t even know how he knew they were there. Even I had forgotten,” Zeus asserted.

“I don’t believe you,” Ares snapped. “But, say for a moment, I do,” Ares led. “Then who stole them from you, Father? Which of us has the balls to try to steal from you? Even
I
would not do that. Who would side with Cernunnos and against you?”

That seemed to be the Question of the Hour but no one, not even Zeus, had an answer. “I don’t know but I am working on finding out and when I do, trust me, whoever it is will be severely deal with.”

5

After cleansing her wounds and regaining what was left of her composure, Alena wrapped a towel around her body as she climbed out of the warm water.  She wasn’t expecting company but as she dragged herself into the throne room she saw Hera standing there holding a silver tray laden with food and drink.  “Great Mother,” Alena whispered in surprise and struggled to lower herself to her knees.

“Don’t kneel, child,” Hera said softly as she took in the sight of the battered and wounded yet squeaky-clean Fey.  “You have had a very hard day.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, Great Mother, but what are you doing here?”

“We came to see our Son.”  Hera put the tray down on the table.  “Let me help you, Alena.”  Hera had seen Alena go down, but she had not been aware the Fey had been struck with a bullet.  Who would ever believe she had a bullet wound when she whipped that sword around and drove it through the Druid’s body?  “You don’t have to suffer, not after the way you proved yourself today.”

Not having to suffer. That was a novel idea.  Alena stood there with just her towel protecting her and watched Hera approach with a warm smile on her aged but beautiful face.  Hera’s hands began to glow a light blue and then the light radiated outward from her hands, her arms, all the way up to her shoulders.  Alena stayed very still as the Goddess of the Gods reached out to her.  Hera did not touch her but Alena felt the penetrating warmth of the energy flowing from her hands and into her own body.  Breath hitched in her throat when she felt her shoulder begin to mend.  The bone knitted itself back together along with the muscle and then it rose back into place.  The flesh, soft and flawless once more.  “Thank you.”

“I’m not done,” Hera cooed, “your back could use some help.”  Hera could not see Alena’s back but she could see the way the woman stooped over so deeply.  She made her way around Alena and sucked in breath at the sight before her eyes.  Alena’s entire back was one huge black bruise.  “What have you done, child?”  She ran her hand along Alena’s upper back.  “All of your muscles are torn.”

Alena turned to look at Hera over her shoulder.  “I am honored.”  Now that warm blue energy was sinking deep into the torn muscles of her back, the pain was melting away as they mended to Hera’s hands.  Alena’s eyes closed and she felt, if she were lying down, she could just go to sleep.

Steadily, Hera’s hands moved downward past her shoulders, to the mid of her back and down further toward that soft mound of her butt.  Something stopped her.  Her hands lingered over the area for a long moment before she looked up to see Alena’s eyes were closed.  Hera’s hands went from Alena’s back to her lower abdomen where they lingered again to feel the new life forming within.  Right now, it wasn’t anything but a bunch of minute cells constantly dividing and forming.  Nevertheless, it was glorious; there had not been an addition to the Olympian Line in a very long time.  The idea of being a Grandmother once more instantly filled Hera with joy.  Alena didn’t know yet, there was no way that she could and Hera thought, this being her first child and all that she shouldn’t tell her.  She should wait and let the new couple find out about their impending blessed event the Old Fashioned Way.

If circumstances were different, that would be exactly what Hera would do.  But circumstances were not different; Alena was not going to spend the next few weeks—or even days—lounging around Ares’ cave.  She was going to go off to War with him in one manner or another, it was clear Alena wouldn’t be left behind no matter what Ares had to say.  For another moment she pondered the idea of remaining silent again; if Alena knew, if Ares knew, then perhaps the unborn child would keep them from performing to their optimum levels.  Perhaps they would play it too safe and that would lead to disaster.

Hera made her way around Alena once more. “You’re pregnant.”

Alena’s eyes flew open.  “What?”  She could not have heard that right.  It was part of a dream or something, she’d just been standing here letting that warm healing energy envelop her, and she had drifted off. “Are you sure, Great Mother?” It was a strange question because Alena already knew Hera was right. She could even pinpoint the exact moment of conception; yesterday morning when she tried to get out of bed and felt that stab of pain.

“Positive.”  Hera smiled, wondering why Alena wasn’t warmly receiving this news.  “Ares will be very happy. He will welcome this child with open arms.”

Well, yes, that was one thing off her mind.  Somehow it did not make the situation any better.  Maybe he would welcome the baby but what kind of father was Ares? His only living offspring hated him.  History told her that Ares was a terrible Father, he had thousands and thousands of children, most of which he paid no attention to whatsoever.  Perhaps they were the lucky ones, those who went ignored and neglected by a man who should have loved them, protected them and cared for them.  What if the baby did something bad, something that babies are apt to do and it made him angry? What if she did something that made him angry? What if something happened to her and Ares was left with the baby alone? What if, what if, what if…

“He loves you, Alena.  He would never hurt this child or you,” Hera assured as though she could read Alena’s mind. She couldn’t, not really; then again, she didn’t have to. Everything Alena was thinking was clear in those stormy gray eyes of hers. “Your love has tempered him and for that I, dear Alena, am eternally grateful to you.”

 Hera, grateful to her?  That sounded impossible.  Fantastical.  Insane.  “Don’t tell him.  Please, Great Mother, don’t tell him,” Alena stuttered and then looked up to gaze in Hera’s eyes, seeing her happiness at the thought of being a Grandmother once more.  “I should do it, don’t you think?”

“Of course you should be the one to tell him this wonderful news, but it won’t be long before he knows.  He will feel the child’s heartbeat when he makes love to you.”  Hera knew that Alena had no immediate plans of telling Ares anything but Alena needed to know that her time was short here.  “What weighs on your mind, child? You shouldn’t have a care in the world; you should be walking on air.” Hera reached out and took Alena’s hands into her own. “My Son loves you; he will keep you and the child safe no matter what it costs him. Don’t let Cernunnos ruin this for you.”  

Long ago, Alena gave up on the idea of being mother to her own child and so she taught at schools and worked for orphanages to make up for that bitter disappointment.  This news should make her ecstatic.  She was in love with Ares and he was in love with her, they were going to have a child together, a family of their own.  This should be the most joyous news she ever received in her whole life.  Alena let her eyes wander away from Hera to take a stroll around the room at all of the different weapons and armor decorating this room and every other room in the cave.  Yes, there were times in Life when one had to stand up and fight for what was right or what was theirs.  She could think of little times when one might need to put another human being through the torment, anguish, and humiliation of the devices in the small room hidden way down at the bottom of the cave.

What is wrong little whore?  Finally realizing you have gotten into bed with the Devil.

Alena pushed the words away. She didn’t know if what the Druid said was the truth or not, maybe he really was just trying to scare her, to manipulate her. Maybe she was in more danger now than she ever had been before. Letting go of Hera’s hands, she laid her palms on her abdomen as though she could feel the baby there, but she could not. Not yet. “A baby,” Alena whispered to the wind, wishing she could be happy.

Chapter Nineteen

Bad Company

1

High on Olympus, Aphrodite sat at her pink marble vanity, in her pink marble bedroom, in her very large and grand pink marble temple brushing her honey blonde hair with a brush made of pink coral. As she stared at her reflection in the heavy—and overly large—mirror, she wondered why Ares did not see her the same way anymore. She was more beautiful than Alena by far, had a better body, too, she could service a man better than that wretched little Fey. Why did he seem so happy with her? How could he draw her in close and hold her sweetly the way a Lover should?

Yes, she had Apollo and he was a fine enough Lover but he lacked Ares’ passion, his fire, his lustfulness. Not to mention, Apollo was lacking about five or six inches in a very important bodily area. It was she, Aphrodite, who had given Ares children, a legacy beyond War. She
loved
him; she would have done anything for him. What was that dried up old biddy going to give him but dusty pussy? Yet there he had been, wrapped up in her arms, letting her make love to him while he confessed his love for her.

Handsome and charming as Ares was, the other Olympian women wouldn’t go near him, except his own Mother. They were all afraid of him, afraid of crossing him, afraid of the stories they heard about him. Aphrodite was the only one who took pity on Ares and let him into her bed so that he would know the full satisfaction that came with sex. At the time, she didn’t know it would stretch out over seventy years and include five children. (None of whom Ares gave a damn about.) When their affair started, Aphrodite didn’t know that she would come to hope and pray that Ares would take her away from Hephaestus and keep her by his side where Aphrodite felt she belonged.