The Heart of War (71 page)

“I am the Lord, Your God, Master of All I Survey,” Cernunnos returned, keeping Ares’ eyes locked to his.

“You’re not
my
God,” Ares returned as he leaned in closer to Cernunnos’ mangled bleeding face. Just as he reached out to grab the Great Horned God by the broken jaw and twist his head off, Cernunnos used those powerful hooves to kick out and knock the God of War off his feet.

“Then there is no salvation for you,” Cernunnos said clearly, as he rose and began to heal before Ares’ eyes. “I will slay you and hold up your bloody corpse as an example for all those who would oppose me.” He looked over to Alena still and quiet on the floor as the room filled with smoke and flame. He took a step as if in her direction.

Ares made the mistake of attempting to rise to his feet and met with a swift kick from both of Cernunnos’ hooves. It sent him reeling back and sliding across the floor, left his jaw aching and open. Before he could get up, Cernunnos let fly with a bolt of lightning from the palm of his hand. Ares tried to deflect it with his sword but was too late; it hit him in the chest just below his heart and knocked the wind out of him as it burned his flesh.

“You so deserve this, Ares and I’m going to give it to you no matter what it costs me,” Cernunnos whispered darkly as he called Ares’ dagger, lying outside the remains of the Sacred Circle to his hand and then sprinted to Alena. Hovering over her, Cernunnos brought her unconscious body up to a sitting position so Ares would have a better view. “Say good-bye, Ares. Say good-bye to the troublesome little bitch.” Before turning his eyes back to the woman, he gave the God of War his own winning smile of straight even white teeth that already replaced the broken shards. It was a shame to kill her but worth it just to hear it when Ares howled in anguish. Bringing the dagger up high in the air, Cernunnos had to have one last favor from his Granddaughter, as the hand came down, he brought her upward as he leaned closer and kissed her on the mouth wanting to take in her last breath from her lungs as Death came to meet her.

There was a strange sensation; it was almost cold and almost painful. Whatever it was, it caused him to freeze and the dagger to fall from his hand to the floor. Cernunnos was not sure what it was until he looked down and saw Ares’ blade jutting through his chest.

“
You
say good-bye, you son of a bitch.”

Even as his blood flowed freely from his body and the blade receded so that Ares could take off his head, Cernunnos knew it would be he who had the last laugh.

Even in Death.

Ares, God of War, did not disappoint. Drawing the blade from Cernunnos’ chest, he grabbed a handful of his hair to hold his head up straight. With one hand, Ares sliced the blade through the air then through Cernunnos’ neck. The Great Horned God’s head flew off his shoulders as his body fell across Alena. It landed in the continually approaching flames and burned until it turned to ash.

With Cernunnos dead, Ares could turn his attention to what truly mattered: Alena. He ripped the corpse of the Great Horned God off her, expecting to see her eyes opening but instead his eyes beheld a gruesome sight. There was blood on those charred robes falling open to reveal her alabaster flesh and the gaping hole near her heart.

Ares crashed to his knees by her side.

Cernunnos had been too close to her. Ares was lost in his anger; he struck out too hard, too far, too fast. The blade that pierced through Cernunnos’ chest went right through her as well. “Alena?” Ares whispered with the vanishing hope that he hadn’t killed her in his voice. “Alena!” Throwing the blade aside, he took her up in his arms and rocked her motionless body. “Don’t do this; you swore you would never leave me. You promised. Stay with me, my Love.” In the midst of the smoke and the flames, Ares began to weep as he brought her closer to him. “I love you, Alena. I am sorry. So sorry, my Love.”

Aphrodite escaped the shackles and the dungeon the same way Ares had done although it took her a little longer as she had no experience with lock picking. She came up the stairs and toward the sound of the commotion only to enter the scene just before Ares’ took off Cernunnos’ head. Now she stood in the doorway at a complete loss for words. The sight of the God of War on his knees and weeping over the body of the little Fey tugged at her heart. Rarely had the Goddess of Love seen Ares express any emotion other than lust or rage. In the years she’d known him, the only day she saw tears in his eyes was the day he carried Artemis home. Here he was openly weeping, his heart breaking as he rocked Alena gently in his arms.

The glittering orbs of light floating near the fiery ceiling descended to the ground and, for a moment, they took their proper ghostly shapes. All of the Gods who had once ruled this world, once been looked up to and worshipped, were powerless to aid the dying woman who had freed them.

Walking over to where he sat with her own heart growing heavier, Aphrodite laid a hand on Ares’ shoulder. She looked at the apparitions staring back at her with wonder. “We…we have to go. The entire forest is on fire, Ares.”

“Help her,” Ares begged.

In this exact moment, Aphrodite would do nearly anything if she could do just that. “It’s beyond my ability. If we hurry, if we go right now, if we take her to Olympus,” she said, trying to sound encouraging although she was unsure if Zeus would pitch a fit, she was sure that if it were within her Power that Hera would help.

The three of them disappeared from the fortress surrounded by fire, leaving it to burn itself out and purify the land it left behind.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

An Offer He Can’t Refuse

Olympus

 For the second time in his life, Ares God of War walked through the Gates of Olympus with the limp body of a woman he loved in his arms.  When he returned with Artemis it was far too late to do anything but Alena’s heart, with the unexpected help of Aphrodite, was still struggling to beat and keep her alive.  “Mother!  Mother!”  The God of War bellowed as he swiftly made his way past the Gates with Aphrodite trying to keep up with his long legs and not let her hands fall away from the gaping hole in Alena’s chest.  In order to maintain some semblance of privacy here on Olympus, teleporting around the top of the mountain was not possible and so Ares had to keep running past the Gates and to his Father’s Palace where he knew he would find Hera.

After Ares left to fight the battle, each of the Olympians retired to their own abodes rather than watch the battle in the Council Chamber.  Each could watch from their home if they wanted but few of them did, most of them spent the time between Ares’ departure and his return contemplating their own fates should Ares lose.  From the top of his Tower, where Eros was staring off into space longing for his lost Psyche, he saw Ares sprinting toward the Gates and then through them with Aphrodite by his side.  Apollo did not see the sight until they were through the Gates, which were not far from his home.  Athena heard Ares shouting before she saw him spring past her Temple.

The good news was Ares was obviously victorious and none of the Olympians had to worry about Cernunnos any longer.  The bad news was more painfully acute as it lay limp in Ares’ bulging arms.  Soon, along with the guests that gathered from far and wide, all were standing in Zeus’ Palace watching Ares lay the nearly lifeless woman down on the Zeus’ dining table.  “I did what you wanted,” Ares announced quickly. “Cernunnos is dead.  Father, heal her.”  The proud announcement quickly turned to a rough demand.

“Her time is very short,” Aphrodite said hurriedly, “I’ve been doing my best to keep her alive but I’m tiring.”

“You?  Helped Alena?” Eros asked as he stared at his Mother in shock then turned his gaze to Apollo only to find Apollo with his mouth also hanging open as he tried to get his head around what he’d just heard.

Aphrodite could not hold onto Alena any longer, her hands slipped away from the Fey’s forehead.  Athena rushed forward to take over the task, knowing that she too wasn’t strong enough to mend the wounds but she could help Alena hang onto the Thread of Life.  Exhausted, Aphrodite stumbled away from the table to stand between her Son and his Father.

Ares’ attention was focused on his Father but he caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye.  The God of War turned around to see Hades standing behind them with a forlorn expression on his otherwise handsome face.  “Get away from her.”

“Ares,” Hades offered calmly as he held his hands up with the palms open hoping to show he meant no malice and this was nothing personal.  “I am what I am.”  He offered a bit more sternly when Ares’ expression only hardened.  “Move aside, Nephew.  Her time has come.”

“No.”  Ares returned defiantly through lips that didn’t seem to move at all.

Hades started to walk toward them, taking those thick leather gloves off his cold hands as he came near.  Ares stood his ground but made no move to stop Hades as he came near and began to lean over Alena.  When he reached out with that newly ungloved hand, Ares wrapped his forearm around Hades’ and pulled him backward, keeping that bare hand away from her and his own skin.  Hades tried to pull away but Ares was too strong.  The God of Death did not want this to get ugly, Hades always preferred peaceful crossings to violent ones, and surely the little Fey deserved that much.  “She is in agony, Ares.  Is that what you want for her?  To suffer?”

Without warning, Ares brought up his big booted foot, planted it in Hades’ side, and gave a mighty shove.  Hades stumbled back as Ares’ let go of his forearm.  “What I want is for you to GET AWAY FROM HER!”  Ares turned back to his Parents knowing that even he could not keep Hades away from Alena forever.  “I’ve done everything you wanted.  In return, you are to reward me.  This is what I want. 
Give it to me
!”

“You BRAT!” Zeus thundered in return.  “You heard your Uncle.  Her time is over; get out of the way, Ares.”

Trying to remain where he stood and not lunge at his Father to rip out his ancient throat, Ares spoke again. “Alena freed Artemis from her captivity in that little bottle.  That is what you wanted, isn’t it?  You will let her die?  What kind of God, what kind of man, are you, Father?”

“What kind are you?”  Zeus lobbed looking down at the gaping hole in Alena’s side.  “You run the woman you love through with your own sword?  Why should I return her life to you?”

"It was an
accident
. You think I meant to skewer her with my blade?"

"It's always an accident with you, Ares. Always." Zeus admonished.

Standing there suddenly arguing seemed pointless.  Alena was slipping away, Ares could feel it, and he did not need to see Hades making a second approach to know it was true.  “I’ll never forgive you for this, Father.”

Hera had been married to Zeus for almost longer than she could remember.  It was very difficult for married couples to keep secrets from each other forever.  Most of them came out at some time or another.  She knew several of Zeus’ most intimately held secrets.  She was a good wife and a patient woman, very patient.  She had held on to this forthcoming bit of information for quite some time.  A time just like this.  “For letting him take the blame for Psyche’s death,” she said as though she were commenting on the weather.  “How’s that for a start, or shall I continue?”

“Shut up, woman,” Zeus ordered as he turned around and pointed his Staff at his Wife. “Not another word,” he warned. It was Zeus in Apollo’s form that Ares walked in on that fateful night. The God of Gods knew Psyche had an eye for Apollo though he doubted she’d ever acted upon it, he also knew it was Ares habit to drop by the Tower on the rare occasions Eros was away from Olympus. There had been many rumors and gossip among them about these visits but Ares and Psyche always insisted Ares was doing nothing more than checking on his Daughter-in-law in her Husband’s absence. It was plausible enough but Ares was Ares and no one really believed him though they were apt to believe Psyche who was well liked by most of the Olympians even if she was saccharin.

Therefore, it had been Zeus’ intent to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. He would rid himself of Psyche and when Ares was found guilty of her murder Zeus would be rid of him as well. Olympus would be a quieter place. The Olympians often gathered for the evening meal, which was served to them by the Graces and the Muses, the only Immortal beings left from the Old Days. During dinner, Zeus drugged Psyche’s wine to make her more compliant later in the evening. He walked her to the tower, saw her to the door, and then made sure to go back to his Palace where Hera saw and rebuffed him for the millionth time. Alibi in place, Zeus went right back to the tower in Apollo’s form. Psyche could hardly see straight and she was clearly feeling no pain at all. At first, she was very flirty and compliant as ‘Apollo’ made his advances but then she began to protest and tell him to stop. That was when Ares walked in for his customary visit.

Zeus’ plan had been to enrage the God of War so that he simply killed Psyche on the spot, no fuss, no muss, and no thought whatsoever. Problem was Psyche was not as compliant as Zeus would have liked but she wasn’t protesting enough to flare Ares’ temper. Not knowing exactly what was going on, Ares sternly warned the two of them to stop what they were doing before Eros discovered their deceit. Then he left, Zeus knew Ares hadn’t gone far, he was just outside the entrance to the tower. Being halfway through the deed, Zeus finished with Psyche before he left the tower passing Ares on his way. He also left Psyche behind in a heightened state of disoriented despair. Zeus heard Ares’ angry voice even through the thick marble; he demanded to know what was going on and for how long. Wanting to stay and listen, to know the outcome of the little scene he’d set up but not being able to as Zeus began to sense Apollo’s presence, the God of Gods disappeared into the dark just as Apollo came into his view and just as Ares and Psyche reached the top of the tower. Seconds later, she was falling to the bottom of Mount Olympus. In those few seconds as Apollo’s attention was completely captivated watching Psyche fall Zeus took the opportunity to plant a fake memory in his Son’ head; the memory of seeing Ares with Psyche.