OF WAR Anthology Novels 1-3

by Lisa Beth Darling

  11

  “What is it?” Alena asked, grabbing up her dress and holding it against her. Ares heard the engines long before she did, but now the waves were crashing against the shore with so much force they were lapping a good ten feet higher than before. Off in the distance she thought she heard screaming.

  “Your friends have arrived.” Ares, now fully dressed in his best battle regalia, grabbed Alena’s hand; they disappeared from the beach and reappeared at the top of the mountain that held his cave. In the last of the fading light and pink lightning, they saw boats tossed about on the rocks and men thrown from them into the churning waters. Poseidon had decided to lend a hand and that was good, but it left Ares to wonder how many of them would make it to shore and how long the battle would last. How much time he had to prepare for it. Who, if any of his Family, would come to aid him. Knowing them, they would just sit up there watching.

  To Alena it was a horrible sight and the sounds of the Druids as they screamed and begged Cernunnos to spare their lives while they drowned was chilling. “I told you he would know,” she said with her mouth agape. “If we made love he would know, he would find me. I can’t believe he sent so many men after me.”

  Ares looked down at her. “Were this the Old Days, I would have sent my entire army after you.”

  Before Alena could say anything more, they disappeared from the top of the mountain and reappeared at the mouth of the cave where his guards were gathered. “Get all your equipment.” He threw a set of keys to one of them. “Reassemble the rifles and the rest, leave the handguns. Load them all. It’s time to earn your pay.”

  Love Is A Battlefield

  Chapter Seventeen

  1

  Everyone was rushing around her. The remaining men were putting on flak jackets as they armed themselves with automatic weapons, hand grenades, and blades of every type. “What do you want me to do?”

  Ares had been concentrating on forming a strategy when Alena spoke and surprised him. She was brave and skilled but she was not going out there. “Stay here and guard the women.”

  Twice today, Alena thought she had seen Ares ready for battle but now realized that was just the tip of the iceberg. He had armed himself to talk with Apollo and when they went to Olympus, but now he was covered in mechanisms of death. While Ares was able to forego the flak jacket, the vest he had worn to Olympus suddenly seemed made of a solid piece of leather. The front flap was no longer wide open showing that taut chest to the world but securely closed from waist to the high collar around his neck. Once that long flap had been open but now that it was secure, his throat and heart were safe behind the thick black leather and sharp metal studs menacing the eye of the viewer. Forearm to shoulder those strong arms were bare except for the fearsome gauntlets harboring their own sharp studs in the form of howling wolves. Heavy rings on each of his long fingers gave an added touch for doing damage in hand-to-hand combat. Running crosswise over each shoulder were ribbons of ammunition that went with the automatic weapons, one for each hand. Two handguns and several hand grenades were in his heavy belt next to his nearly ever-present sword. Daggers in his boots and one up each gauntlet on springs, she saw him put the contraptions into the gauntlets. If someone got close, he could just release the spring and the dagger would shoot forth from the gauntlet with a great deal of force.

  Ares looked alive; he looked as though every switch in his head was in the ON position. His face was rushing with color as his jaw set tight and his eyes were alight with flame.

  Alena felt her heart sink. She wanted to beg him not to go out there but how did one ask the God of War not to fight when his services were so highly in need? If she asked him to stay and not to fight, it would not do any good; all it would do is cause an argument. If there was one thing Ares did not need it was distraction. She didn’t want to lose him the way she lost her father; she would rather walk right up to Cernunnos and hand herself over than risk harm to Ares. Yes, there were many Druids out there, but from what she saw a good deal of them would die before ever coming near shore. They were Mortal. All of them. Mortal. They were excellent warriors guarded by Cernunnos, but in the end they were Men and they bled, screamed and died in the same manner. She need not fear for Ares’ safety, not too much. He was the God of War and he was in his Element. As he had said earlier today, she had hired him to do a job and so now, she had to stand back and let him do it.

  No matter how much it killed her.

  “Right then, well, tally-ho,” Alena said as she raised her little fist in the air trying to smile and be supportive.

  “Tally-ho?” Ares snorted as he noted how cheerful she was trying to be.

  “Hoo-wah?”

  The God of War blinked and shook his head before he laid his fingers under her chin to tilt her head upward and laugh heartily. “I do love you,” he returned, still laughing, then his tone turned serious. “I will return to you soon. Don’t be afraid.” She was trying very hard to stand there and be brave while she watched her man go off to war. Her concern for him and his safety shone in everything about her, the harder she tried to hide, the more it shone. This was one reason he avoided falling in love, Ares had seen too many men leave their beloved women behind. Watched the women cry in their doorways, their arms outstretched for one last embrace, one last kiss. He heard the men scream out their women’s names or wonder about them softly as they died. Ares never wanted to leave a wailing woman behind him. “It’ll all be over soon.” He kissed her forehead and went to make his way out of the cave.

  Ares got about one step before Alena reached out for his forearm, grabbed hold just above the gauntlet, yanked him back so hard that Ares stumbled on his feet. Turning around he watched as she climbed up on his throne to stand eye to eye with him. Taking him into a heated embrace, she planted her lips on his to kiss him long and deep. She never wanted to stop feeling him pressed against her, although she could do without the heavy studs poking her in the chest. She would rather have him naked and waiting before her. When he got back that was exactly what she would have. Not wanting to stop but to go forward and run her hands wildly over him, Alena pulled her lips away and rested her forehead against his. “Just a little something to remind you what you’re fighting for.”

  “As though I would ever forget.” Ares laid a small peck on her waiting lips. “Will there be more when I return?”

  “So very much more.”

  “Then I will return quickly and victoriously,” Ares promised and ran his hands through her silver hair. “Don’t worry about me, take care of the women.” Another small kiss, one more embrace, and he was gone.

  A few seconds later, Alena heard the massive boulder roll into place, blocking the entrance to the cave.

  2

  Outside two of the men were at the entrance of the cave—David and Daniel were waiting for him. Daniel was prone to looking at the world from a scientific aspect; like Onya, he questioned everything that came across his path. David was more of a shoot-now-and-ask-questions-later type of a guy. Each of them had their uses. “What have you got?” Ares asked gruffly.

  David spoke first. They had sent the other four off to scout the corners of the island and as far as anyone could tell the attack was coming from the west side alone, although with the battered broken boats and drowning men he was certain live bodies—as well as dead ones—were apt to wash ashore anywhere. They had been able to come up with a rough head count of forty men still breathing, fifteen of which were in two boats still making their way to shore, somehow able to escape the crushing reefs. For the most part, they were trying to rescue the rest but they weren’t having much luck.

  “Weapons?”

  Daniel replied. “Unknown, but it looks like some of them have automatics.”

  Cernunnos didn’t send them here armed only with guns, not if he hoped to win the battle. The Druids had something else with them. Whatever it was, Ares hoped Poseidon’s wave sank it to the bottom of the sea. Chances were he wouldn’t get that luc
ky. “Get everyone to the west side of the island.” Looking back at the entrance to be sure he’d sealed it to his satisfaction—the Druids would not get inside and lay their filthy hands on Alena or the other women, and Alena would not surprise him in battle. Ares teleported down to the beach where he’d just made love with her. The very same beach where he wanted to make love to her for a thousand nights to come.

  Daniel and David had to walk but it would not take them long to hustle down the steep stairs carved into the cliff face. Instead of Ares wasting time teleporting or walking to the south end, he used his powers to communicate with the animals as he raced down to water’s edge. He needed to alert Cerberus and the Golden Hind to the approaching danger. Each would be very useful tonight.

  Stopping short near a line of heavy rocks on the shoreline with his feet in the water, Ares reached between them, plunging his gloved hand deep into the cool water and rummaging around until his hand seized upon metal. Planting one meaty boot against a rock and leaning back on the other foot, he hauled the chain upward with nearly all of his considerable Olympian strength, letting out a warrior’s cry as he did. Thick muscles in his arm and neck tensed and stood out at attention as Ares put his back into his work.

  Buried way under the sand outward to twelve yards from shore, slowly, three rows of punji sticks rose from the sea. Tightly bound with barbed wire and placed a mere three feet apart, each stick over six yards in length and nearly a foot around carved to sharp points from the heaviest mahogany he could find. They jutted fearsomely from the water at a 45-degree angle and were a fantastic deterrent for anything and anyone within twenty-five yards of the island. Altogether the length of punji sticks, three rows deep, and running more than half a mile long covered a quarter of this side of the island, they weighed well over a ton and it took quite a bit of strength to raise and secure them in place. Ares did this last by wrapping his end of the heavy chain around a pike planted deep between the rocks for just this purpose. There were three more chains to pull. Ares wasted no time in getting each section up and secured into place, when he finished his brawny body was covered in sweat, his mind raced with the thought of the coming challenge.

  Now when the Druids swam to shore they would have to get past the booby trap and watch as their dead brothers in arms were impaled upon them as they washed up near the shore. From the south end came Cerberus and the Golden Hind, behind them were two of the four men with the last two hurrying around the north end to the west shore. Ares stood at the fore surveying the water ahead.

  “What do you want us to do?” David asked, feeling his heart beginning to race and his mind struggling to keep up. Daniel was the smart one but David had all the brute force.

  Listening to the men crying out for Cernunnos to come and save them, Ares smiled and thought he would help put an end to their suffering. “Go over there and pull that lever.” He pointed off toward the cliff face.

  David strained his eyes in the direction Ares pointed but saw nothing other than rocks covered with sand, seaweed and barnacles. “What lever?”

  “Never mind.” Using his physical strength to pull up the punji sticks kick-started his adrenaline and he did not want to lose it. Ares raised his hand in the air as he heard a creaking sound. Among the jutting rocks, David and Daniel thought they saw something move. Then there was a whooshing sound followed by the stench of gasoline. Looking off to the far left, they saw the flow of liquid coming out of the rocks. The water would bring it out about twenty yards beyond the sharp sticks, around to where they stood and then beyond that down the beach. Standing on the beach, very still and quiet, listening to the plaintiff cries coming off the water, Ares tapped his foot for a moment as he waited and waited. As he waited the first of the bodies washed up to the punji sticks. It was caught up at the first row, an arm wrapped around one stick, and a leg stuck through another. A few moments later and there was a flood of floating bodies on the near horizon. Beyond them men struggled to stay afloat, to grab whatever they could and use as a raft, they called to each other and to their God as the last of the wave rolled over them. “Spread out down the beach,” Ares commanded.

  Closer now were a few of the live but very wet Druids. The boats carrying the bulk of the invaders were also coming up on the shore. Some of the men on board tossed over life vests, rings, and anything they could find to help save the others. Others knew they were within firing range of the island and began to open fire. While their bullets would not kill Ares, they would kill his guards and that seemed to be who the Druids were aiming for. They were hoping to take out the underlings before coming after the big boss.

  Although most of the bullets fell harmlessly into the water away from shore, a few managed to strike at the shoreline, stirring up little puffs of wet sand. Several others found their way into already dead bodies, and a few others still, struck friendly targets. That was helpful but he had to get rid of those boats.

  “Show time,” Ares crooned with a wide grin as a fireball lit up the palm of his hand. The God of War drew his arm and body back as though he were a major league pitcher and chucked it right down the pike to home plate. It struck the first boat approaching and blew it to matchsticks. Falling bits of burning wood and melting fiberglass ignited the gasoline floating on top of the water, lighting up the dusk to make it look like dawn. “Come get some!” Ares dared in a loud booming voice. “Come on!”

  The men in the water screamed in terror at the sight of the blaze. They tried in vain to swim in the opposite direction but the tide relentlessly pushed them toward the dangerous shore.

  3

  Climbing down off the throne of bones, heart laden with dread, Alena saw she had a task to take care of; the women. They were standing off in a corner all huddled together wondering what was going on. “Do any of you know how to use a weapon?” Ares hadn’t left any loaded guns behind but she saw where the firing pins and ammunition were kept while Ares got ready for battle. The door was unlocked. It wasn’t any use; all of the women shook their heads. She wasn’t about to give a loaded gun to someone who didn’t know how to use it. “Gather up some of the smaller daggers then. I want you to go down to your chamber.” She thought for a second about which way the door on the room to the women’s chamber swung open. It did so to the inside of the chamber. “I want you to bar the door with anything heavy you can find.” They all just stood there for a moment staring at her. “Go on! This is no time to stand around.” She shooed them away with a flourish of her hands. They scattered off to find provisions and weapons they thought they could handle before locking themselves away.

  Instead of going with them, Alena grabbed a small dagger and ran back to her room. If her new Lover was going off to war, going off to fight and kill for her and in her name, Alena was damned if he’d do it without her. Once inside she jammed the blade through the material of the very fine velvet gown a few inches above her knees. In a great rush, she ripped the sharp blade halfway around one side then halfway around the other until the skirt fell free of the bodice and her legs were bare. Quickly she scooped up two hair ribbons from the vanity, tied her long silver-gray hair up so that it was back and away from her face, then slid into the boots Ares had given her for their hunting trip. “That’s better,” she said, looking down at herself and then dashing out the door down to the armory where she found the small compound bow and quiver. She stuffed as many arrows into the quiver as she could find.

  There was armor in here but most of it was much too large for her. With panic starting to grow inside of her, Alena hunted around for anything she could use and finally settled on a small black leather vest. Picking it up, she saw heavy metal studs covering it as a musty odor wafted to her nose. She slipped into the vest and secured it over her chest before slinging the quiver crosswise over her shoulder and then slinging on the bow. The vest had a built-in belt—she grabbed the closest daggers and knives to her hand, stuffing them into the belt, ready to slice and dice at her hand’s command. Lastly, she hurried through
the armory to the small door at the back of the room where Ares kept the firing pins and ammunition for all of the guns in the cave. He was very meticulous and everything was neatly boxed, labeled and categorized.

  How thoughtful.

  Alena snatched up ammunition and the firing pins for the handguns left behind on the table in the throne room. It would not take more than twenty seconds to put the weapons together and make them fire once more.

  In the throne room as she disassembled and reassembled the weapons, she heard the women chatting away upstairs. Grabbing up the working firearms, she went to the bottom of the stairs. “What did I tell you?” she shouted and then ran up the steps as quickly as she could. “Get down there and bar the door!”

  All chatter stopped and all eyes turned to her. “What are you doing?” Onya asked, taking in the warrior’s outfit and how oddly well it suited her.

  Norman MacLeod did not raise his only daughter to sit on her ass while others fought, killed and died in her name or for her honor. What would her father think of her if she cowered in the cave as Ares wanted? He would think her cowardly and unworthy to bear the name MacLeod. “I’m going to help Ares. The rest of you are going to take your stuff and get down there, all the way down there. Take all your beds, dressers, whatever, and put them tightly up against the door. Jam them up there in a left-hand slant so that if the door does start to open it cannot finish because there will be too much stuff in the way. Pile it up as high as you can so they can’t get over it.”

  “He told you to stay here and guard us,” Onya cried in a worried tone. “Don’t you know how important that is to him?”

  Yes, she knew and she didn’t want any harm to come to them but more than that, she didn’t want any harm to come to Ares. “You can guard them,” Alena said strongly as she slapped two of the daggers from her belt into Onya’s hand. “They’re not helpless. Neither are you. Now go.” Before Onya could protest further Alena dashed out of the room, closing the bedroom door behind her, hoping one of them would be intelligent enough to throw the lock.