The Heart of War (50 page)

Day Two

1

For the second day in a row, Alena stumbled to the entrance of the cave only to be greeted by the steady…

…
Thwack! Boom! Thonk!...

…of Ares chopping wood. The pile was easily double the size it was yesterday.

Ares spent most of yesterday either chopping wood or sitting on his throne sulking. No matter what she did, she couldn’t get him to smile. Soon she began to feel as though she were intruding and made her way off to her bedroom for the rest of the day. She didn’t see him for hours; he didn’t even come to the table for dinner. Instead, he sat up his bedroom alone as far as she knew; she didn’t hear any sounds coming from up there before she drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

“Good morning?” Alena ventured in a quietly hopeful voice.

Ares, covered in sweat, swiped the back of his hand under his nose as he turned his head toward her. “What’s good about it?”

Ok. I see you’re not any better today.
“The sun is shining?” She offered sweetly and walked over to him to hold out her arms. “We’re together? That’s still good, isn’t it?”

Was it? Ares didn’t know. What he did know was that he’d had the most horrible dream last night. It was so vivid that it forced him wide-awake with a jolt that sat him straight up, body covered in cold sweat and his heart racing like the wind. In this horribly real dream, Ares walked in on Eros and Alena making love in Ares’ bed.

Ares was so irate he couldn’t see straight.

Eros thought it was all so very funny, he laughed and then, worst of all, so did she. Alena confessed she’d always been in love with Eros, she could never love Ares, she’d only used him for protection from Cernunnos. She was sorry, so very sorry, but she was going back to Olympus as Eros’ Wife. Taken away by his rage and jealousy, before he knew it he struck her. He beat her mercilessly and used all of his strength to bend her body to his own perverted will, ravaging her over and over again like some out of control savage.

He took much pleasure in dominating her with all of his might until she was bloody and beaten below him. Until she gave up the fight and gave into defeat, she lay there below him whispering softly, sobbing and begging him for her life and the life of their child.

All sanity and reason were lost to Ares God of War. In this wicked dream, Ares harnessed Alena to the board that had been in his torture chamber. With a cold smile, he forced the Pear of Anguish into her, he turned the key until it opened to full and her blood spilled over his hands while it washed his child from her body. Alena screamed in pain before she began to weep.

Ares jolted upright alone in his bed, heart nearly exploding in his chest as sweat ran down his forehead. He looked to the other side of the lonely bed and found it empty; he hung his head into his hands. Behind closed eyes, the image of the Pear burned in his mind. When his heart and his breathing began to slow and Ares gathered more of his strength, he opened his eyes to look down at his hands to be sure there was no blood on them. “What’s wrong with me?” he asked the darkness. “Dear Gods, did You give her to me, make me fall in love with her, just to watch me destroy her? I won’t do it. Do You hear me? I will not do these things, I won’t hurt her.”

To his ears, his voice sounded strong and resolved until a wicked voice spoke in his head.

Yes, you will.

A chill washed over him even as he sat bathed in the firelight. Ares’ turned his eyes toward the closed door, certain he felt Alena’s presence on the other side. He waited for it to open but it did not. Instead, just as the sensation came to its crescendo it faded and she was gone.

Before the sun rose, Ares lumbered out of the cave to begin chopping wood. Slowly his head began to clear though it seemed to take much longer than it did yesterday. Seeing her standing there in the light of day, Ares was caught between the desire to embrace her and the opposing desire to slap her down to the ground. Like yesterday, he didn’t answer her when she spoke to him. He just stood there leering at her. Like yesterday, Alena ventured towards him and put her arms around his waist. Unlike yesterday, this morning Ares’ hand held onto the axe and he did not return the embrace.

2

“I missed you last night. I had the most awful dream.” With her cheek still pressed to his sweaty chest, Alena related the events of her own unsettling dream, never even sensing the danger growing within him. In her sleep, someone wrapped her up in a purple blanket, she was quite sleepy and thought that she was dreaming—even within her dreams—but then she was flying. Soaring through the night sky high up into the air where she could see all of the glittering stars and the brightness of the nearly full moon. For quite a while it was a lovely place to be, but then she realized she wasn’t the one flying and the blanket wasn’t exactly a blanket. It was a sling and she was cradled within it. Looking up, she saw the bare chest of a man but was unable to make out his face. Although she couldn’t be sure, she felt as though the faceless flying man smiled sadly at her.

“And then…and then…I was falling.” Falling from a height so great, she was certain death awaited her when she came to land. She tried to scream and clutch at the air but the blanket wrapped around her, she couldn’t free herself of it, it was almost as if it had a mind of its own. She couldn’t see anything but she felt the cold air whipping past her and her heart racing as she plummeted. Then, instead of crashing into land she fell into the water. A great mouthful of it washed down her still screaming throat and she’d almost drowned, the blanket pulling her down to the bottom of the sea. “I woke up, I couldn’t breathe, I was covered in sweat and searching for you, but you weren’t there.” She wanted to tell him that after her dream she’d run up the steps to his bedroom seeking his strength, protection and comfort. She’d stopped at the door as some inner voice told her not to venture further. Alena stayed there for a few moments searching herself in the dark as she laid her hand on the doorknob wanting nothing more than to rush inside and fall into his arms, but at the last minute she turned away and skittered down the steps back to her room.

As she spoke, Ares hand unwillingly choked up on the axe handle gaining just the right leverage to deliver a close-in blow to the back of her pretty head. In his own head, pain so bright it was nearly blinding, Ares’ vision began to waver as though he were looking off to the distance in a great heat. The heart speeding away in his chest was held by icy fingers that squeezed with each word she spoke as she stood clinging to him telling him of her dream, telling him she was beginning to remember how she got here. It wouldn’t be long now until Alena remembered everything, including Eros. When she did, Ares felt certain she would come to him, tell him she was in love with his Son and that she was leaving him. No, not long now until he caught them in bed together and wouldn’t that be Poetic Justice? How Zeus and Aphrodite would laugh when the discovery of the Lovers was made.

“What’s wrong?” Alena whispered. “You’re so distant and angry. What have I done? Tell me so that I can make it better.”

It would be so easy to jerk his wrist around, whack her with the axe and save himself the coming heartache. He could even consider it merciful; surely she’d never even see it coming, not from the way she was looking up at him with so much concern. The thrill of the imminent kill rushed through him, giving Ares a raging hard-on.

What the hell are you doing?
Ares’ asked himself. It took a great deal of conscious effort but he forced his fingers open to drop the axe before he traced his fingers along the curve of her delicate face. “I told you, I don’t want you out here. Go inside.”

“Really? How do you like this? I’m tired of being in the cave and I’m going down to the beach for a little sun while the weather is still warm.” Resisting the urge to wrinkle her face, Alena turned on her heels to make her way down to the shore.

Ares grabbed her by the upper arm so harshly that she let out a cry of pain. “I was under the impression that this is my island and that I rule here.”

Alena didn’t have a clue as to what it was about Ares that made her feel so strangely conflicted. He was a huge man—never mind the fact he was a God—he could squash her like a bug and never look back, but she didn’t believe the God of War had any respect for those who showed weakness or were happily subservient to him at every turn. “So you do. Anytime you’d like to get rid of me, all you have to do is say so, until then you’d better get that bug out of your ass! It’s dying.”

The grip on her arm tightened and he waited for her to wince but she just stood there staring up at him defiant as a spoiled child. “What did you say to me?”

“Get your hand off me.”

“Not until you repeat it.”

Alena licked her lips nervously but didn’t hold her tongue. “I said something’s crawled up your ass and died and you should…get an enema!” She brought one bare foot up, planted it on his thigh and gave a good shove with her strong leg as she pulled backward with her arm. Alena popped out of Ares’ grasp, nearly toppling over to the woodpile next to her. With Ares standing behind her, his mouth agape, she trotted off away from him. It was a good thing she didn’t look back as she made her way down the steep stairway to the beach or she would have seen him pick up the axe and shake it menacingly in her direction.

Getting control, Ares went back to his work but it didn’t help. Each blow of the axe only served to make him angrier.

3

Feeling as though she’d narrowly dodged an oncoming freight train, Alena stood on the beach gazing out at the ocean. Above she heard the steady rise and fall of the axe; holding a hand to brow to shield her eyes, Alena gazed upward to see him furiously working away. Again she wondered what was wrong with him and how things had changed so quickly. What had she done to anger him? Why was he so cold, so demanding, and short-tempered lately?

A disconcerting thought struck her as she watched him swing the axe with strong purposeful blows;
what if
nothing changed? What if this was the way Ares God of War really was?

What if the Druid was right and she had gotten into the Devil’s bed? Aphrodite laughed at her, called her stupid and foolish for believing anything Ares ever said. Aphrodite would know. What if it was all a lie?

High up on the cliff top Ares was intent in his work, huge logs flew apart and rolled with the sound of thunder. Alena put her hand on her womb and thought of the tiny growing life within. “I love you,” she whispered to it. “I know your Father does, too.”

I hope he does.

He must because if this were all a lie, why would Ares fight Cernunnos’ Druids? Why not just hand her over as his Family wanted? Why would he go to Ceres Agar? Why kill Jaakim and his men? Why leave the children with two wheelbarrows full of diamonds? If Ares didn’t love her, or at least care about her to the extent he was able, why bother with any of that?

It was a mystery. Then again, so was Ares.

Turning her eyes away from Ares and his axe toward the ocean, her eyes caught the bright blue sky. Suddenly, standing there on the beach, a sensation overwhelmed her, and in her mind at least, she was flying, soaring through the sky. There was a sound so faint she almost didn’t hear it. It sounded like sheets flapping in the breeze as they dried on a clothesline. A soft steady
fump-fump-fump
. Then she was falling at a terrible speed. Alena wobbled on her feet as her knees began to give way under her. Under the warm morning sun, alabaster skin broke out in goosebumps. For whatever reason the dream wouldn’t let go of her, it was almost as though it was trying to tell her something. Shaking her head and rubbing her arms to bring back their warmth, Alena walked barefoot down to where the ocean kissed the sand and gazed out as far to the horizon as she could. According to Ares this was the very spot where she washed up on his shore and in all the time she’d been here, she’d yet to see any sign of wrecked ship. Ares asserted there had never been a ship, but lately he’d let that go and stopped asking where she’d come from and how she arrived after he returned from Ceres Agar.

What if he’d discovered something more than Jaakim? Something he didn’t want her to know. Part of her wanted to believe that if he’d come upon Sister Augustine or Father Murphy he would have piped up right away, if for no other reason than to prove he was right. Ares said nothing about them, only about Sha’Quanda, Dae’Jave and Jaakim.

If she could just find some scrap of metal, something to show her that she wasn’t going crazy and she had been on that ship then that would settle all of this and hopefully put an end to her dreams. Holding her hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun, Alena continued to scan the horizon. She even strained to see the beach of the closest island, thinking that perhaps something washed up over there. Finding nothing, she turned her long-distance gaze to the beach. At first she saw nothing but the sand, the water, rocks and seashells. Then far down near the point where the Druids had come ashore, something was caught in the rocks and fluttering in the wind. If it had the ship’s name on it or if, whatever it was, it didn’t belong to Ares or the Druids, then it would have had to come from a ship. If that were the case then she’d know she wasn’t going mad.

Never noticing that the steady rise and fall of the axe above her stopped, she took off down the beach.

Skittering up to the jutting rocks, Alena nimbly climbed over them, mindful of the soles of her feet until she reached the ratted cloth.