OF WAR Anthology Novels 1-3

by Lisa Beth Darling

  Wanting to chuckle and take comfort in Athena’s words, Alena was unable to do so. If what Athena said was true, then Alena had a double-dose of Cernunnos in her. As she spoke, Alena’s voice hardly rose above a whisper. “It’s more than that, more than just a boy acting out. The way he looks at me and the other women, sometimes I think…well, sometimes it frightens me.” With Onya’s run-in with Raven unknown to her, three nights before it happened Alena was relaxing in the massive sunken tub in the master bathroom while Ares was puttering about and Raven had been put to bed. He stood there watching her wash her long silver hair, her body facing him and her breasts just poking out of the water covered with thick lather cascading down her alabaster shoulders. Lost in a fantasy of making love with Ares later in the evening, she smiled and cooed to herself, letting her mind believe the hands in her hair were his. Her hands slid from the top of her head slowly all the way down her face, neck and shoulders, pushing aside waves of lather as they made their way to those hard nipples floating on the water. Then her hands were out of his sight, but he still knew where they were and what they were doing by the grin on her face and the moans in her throat. Raven licked his lips and reached down for his crotch.

  When her little daydream was over, she submerged to rinse the shampoo from her hair and resurfaced, and saw him staring at her in a manner no son should ever gaze at his mother. Then she noticed something no mother should witness on her son once he was past diapers—Raven had a hard-on. Those pajama bottoms of his were pushing maximum density.

  Later on that evening, Alena told Ares what happened but he dismissed it as a boy’s curiosity and said he would have a talk with Raven in the morning. Whatever Ares said, it didn’t take because not long after Raven had the incident with Onya in the kitchen.

  Sitting here now with Athena begging for her Wisdom and Guidance, Alena’s eyes misted over as, without thought, she reached up and soothed the knot on the back of her head. “His Grandfather is a rapist, and I don’t think Ares’ past is pristine.”

  No one would ever stand up and say that Ares was a saint, and while he might be guilty of heavily twisting an arm to get a woman into his bed, they wouldn’t say he was a rapist, either. “Did Raven do that?” Athena pointed to Alena’s wounded face.

  “We were sparring.” Alena’s eyes shifted around the room, unable to meet or hold Athena’s strong gaze. “Things got a little spirited.”

  “Spirited?” Athena echoed watching Alena nod. “I see.” Ares had been ‘spirited’ as well when he was a boy, but he never struck Hera.

  “There must be something I can do, though I don’t seem to be doing anything right at the moment and I was hoping that, well, since you are the Goddess of Wisdom, you would be able to tell me where I’m going wrong and what I should do.”

  Zeus had to be wrong. Why would Alena be here asking for Athena’s guidance if she were a Dark Fae? Athena believed that if Alena was here under false pretense then she would use Raven against the Olympians, but instead here she was trying to find ways to rein in her son. “Why don’t you let Ares handle Raven? After all, Olympian youth are so incredibly…spirited, as you said.”

  “But I’m his mother, I need to help my son.”

  Athena nodded. “And you think you’re a bad mother, you’re not doing right by Raven because you may have infected him with something.” As far as Athena could see, Alena was anything but a bad mother. Many times over the last few years, Athena gazed out of a window in her Temple only to see Alena and Raven playing in the snow. She watched them laugh as they threw snowballs at each other, made snowmen and snow angels. Alena liked to climb the steep rocky Cliffside with her son there; on nearly the tip-top of Olympus the two would gaze out at the world below and beyond. Athena had no doubt that Alena was telling Raven incredible stories of the mortals and their world because she wanted him to understand that there was so much more than himself to this life.

  “What else could it be? Help me understand him so I can be a better mother. He’s so advanced, I don’t know what to do or how to keep up with him.”

  It was an odd request, since Athena never had sex, let alone a child. What did she know of Motherhood other than what she saw around her? Other than the bruises on her face, maybe that was why Alena looked so haggard; the boy was simply running her ragged. “I know being here is difficult. Olympus is no place for an outsider. Those accustomed to Mortal Laws and Rules can never truly understand what they face when they come here. I never thought I would say this but Ares is doing right by Raven, this time he is a good Father and you, Alena, are a very good mother; don’t doubt that. The boy knows you love him and that you are there for him. What more can you do?”

  Alena sighed and felt a tear sting her eye as her heart began to feel heavy. “I don’t know. He lacks discipline and I want my son to be a good man, that’s all. A good man.”

  “You have such a wonderful gift for understatement, my dear. Perhaps one day he’ll get there. It may take quite a while; it only took Ares a few thousand years. Be patient and be firm. Trust my Brother.” Athena’s eyes widened and her lips turned into a happy grin. “There’s another thing I never thought I’d say—you have changed him for the better and for that, even I am grateful.”

  There was something in Athena’s tone that told Alena their conversation was over, although her questions were not answered. “Thank you, Lady of Wisdom,” Alena bowed even as she rose from the seat. “I will think about what you’ve had to say to me.” She walked out of the door and was halfway down the steps when Athena called after her.

  “Alena? Does the name Shar Draíocht mean anything to you?”

  Taken off guard by the sudden change in subject, Alena gazed up at Athena standing on the top step of her Temple and had a sudden flash in her mind; a massive weeping willow tree in the glow of the rising sun. Behind the huge Weeping Willow ran a wide babbling brook where the water was a clear sparkling blue. Surrounding the tree was a huge thicket of thorns as though they were guarding it from the outside world. As quickly as it came it went. Still, she knew that tree; she’d seen it before many times, always wishing it would go away. “No, I don’t think so. Why?”

  “No reason.” Athena smiled curtly and turned to go back inside, leaving Alena standing in the snow.

  Another trek through the deep snow and biting cold, another knock upon another Temple door, and another shocked woman on the other side when it opened. “Alena?”

  “Hello, Aphrodite, may I come in?”

  Since she came to live here, other than on her Husband’s arm, Alena hardly ventured beyond the walls of Ares’ Fortress alone, and she had never stepped foot on Aphrodite’s doorstep until this moment. “Something I can do for you?”

  “I want to talk,” Alena lowered her voice as her eyes scanned left to right and then past Aphrodite, “about Trinity.”

  Believing she was about to engage in a conversation that was long overdue, Aphrodite took a step out into the cold and shut the Temple door. Folding her arms over her plump breasts and giving a sneer, “What about her?”

  “I don’t care about that,” Alena answered Aphrodite’s true question, “why doesn’t she come to visit Raven anymore? What did he do?” She was dreading the answer but she had to know.

  Now it was Aphrodite who looked around to see who may be spying on them and thought she caught sight of Apollo in a window while Eros perched on the top of his Tower as usual. “Come in, but make it quick.”

  Stepping over the threshold, Alena’s eyes met a sea of pink. Everything, floor to ceiling, was pink. “Whoa,” she whispered under her breath, “it’s beautiful,” she fumbled for recovery and thought she made it.

  “Raven is a growing boy, I know,” Aphrodite said hurriedly as she held up a hand to keep Alena silent, “but he’s very mean to Trinity and she doesn’t want to go play with him anymore. That’s it.”

  “That’s it? What did he do to her?” When Aphrodite refused to answer Alena pressed on, “did he touch her?”


  It took Aphrodite a moment to get the drift of the underlying meaning in Alena’s words. “What? No, he damn well better not. Why would you even say something like that?”

  Alena felt foolish as blood rushed into her face, making her break out in a bead of sweat. “Nothing, I just want to know that Trinity’s all right and whatever Raven did or said wasn’t something completely horrible.”

  “He pushed me.” The two women turned to see little Trinity on the bottom step of the pink marble staircase. “Hard. He said I was stupid and ugly and nobody would ever want anything to do with me because I don’t have any power, I’m not a real Goddess and all I could do was make babies.”

  Feeling heartsick, Alena went to the little girl and dropped to her knees beside her as she took up Trinity’s hand. “That’s terrible, he should never have done and said those things because they’re not true. You’re beautiful and you’re smart and you’re very kind; one day a wonderful man will fall madly in love with you.” Rising again and giving the girl a peck on the cheek she added, “I will make sure Raven is punished for that.”

  “Oh no,” Trinity whispered quickly as her eyes grew to the size of saucers, “that’s ok, no, no. I just don’t wanna play with him anymore.”

  Alena didn’t like the way the blood rushed out of Trinity’s pretty face or the way she so hurriedly intervened on behalf of the boy who accosted and berated her. “You don’t have to, it’s all right. Don’t worry. You go on and go play, I’m going to leave now. Bye, sweetheart.”

  “Bye, Alena.” Trinity gave her a kiss on the cheek before she wandered back up the pink marble staircase.

  “Satisfied?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry I bothered you.” Alena turned to leave but turned back to Aphrodite. “Do you know Shar Draíocht?”

  “Who?” The Goddess of Love stood there with a strange expression on her face, a mix of bewilderment and utter annoyance.

  “No one, I guess.” If she was no one then why did Athena mention her? Now that she had, the name stuck in Alena’s head like a skipping record on low volume. Alena couldn’t get rid of it or the image of the Weeping Willow by the babbling brook.

  Chapter Twenty

  Roughing It

  I

  Hidden away from the sun deep in a thicket of Oak Trees, Ares and Raven tracked their prey until it stopped to nibble at the acorns on the ground. “Do it just like I told you,” Ares whispered over Raven’s shoulder, watching the boy line up his arrow with the buck in front of him.

  Raven drew in a long, deep breath as he drew back the string, centered the arrow on the buck’s heart, and then exhaled as he let it fly while standing perfectly still until long after the arrow was free. With a soft thwack the sharp weapon sunk into its target, the buck buckled, fell to the ground, and died in front of them. “HA!” Raven cried out as he took off sprinting across the forest floor to inspect his kill.

  Ares and Raven weren’t alone; there was another pair of eyes watching them, and it wasn’t fond of having its dinner—the large store of acorns the dead buck was currently bleeding all over—snatched out from under its steaming snout. Nor did it appreciate having such large and intimidating strangers this close to its nest. Hidden deep in the underbrush, it scratched its cloven hoof into the dirt as Raven came fully into its line of sight and it prepared to attack.

  Raven was almost to the fallen buck when the three-hundred pound boar broke out of its cover and charged at him, snout flaring, throat grunting, tusks aimed to pierce Raven’s legs and take them out from under him. “Raven!” Ares shouted out and watched his Son’s head turn toward him just as the boar rushed the boy.

  Raven barely had time to react before he was flying through the air and then headed for the ground where the boar was coming around for a second attack. Just as his back impacted with the hard Earth, he pulled the dagger from his belt, rolled over on his stomach, rose to his knees but not his feet as he waited a split second for the boar to leap. Leap it did, right at his face, its hooves outstretched and nostrils flaring; it was ready to tear open his cheek with those sharp tusks. Raven ducked the hooves as he reached out with his empty hand, wrapped it around the storming creature’s neck to throw it to the ground and then rip its throat open with the dagger.

  Heart pounding in his chest and his breath rushing through his lungs, Raven was covered in sweat and blood as the boar died at his feet.

  “Good show,” Ares complimented as the fireball in his hand dissipated. He didn’t believe Raven to be in any real danger; the boy was Immortal after all, and while the boar might be able to do a bit of damage to him, it wouldn’t be fatal. Still, Alena would be quite upset if he should return with a broken bleeding Raven, so he readied the fireball and was about to throw it when Raven slew the boar with his bare hands.

  Raven looked down at the warm red blood on his hands and then wiped them on the dead animal’s coarse fur. “She said she wanted something she could roast.”

  “That will do nicely.” He looked from his Son to the animals around him. “Let’s get these back to camp and gut them before they go rancid on us.”

  “Why don’t we just send them up to Olympus?” Raven suggested as he got to his feet. “Men hunt; women do the cleaning and the cooking.”

  Three thousand years ago Raven’s words would have rung of perpetual truth, but not in the modern world. “What if there’s no woman around?”

  Raven shrugged his shoulders. “That’s why there are restaurants.”

  “Is it?” Ares stroked the beard on his chin. “Interesting. But, hummm, this is a man’s trip, so there are no women and no restaurants. Pick up the boar, I’ll take the buck.”

  Raven groaned all the way back to the camp they made on the beach where Spirit Walker was waiting for them. The wolf had accompanied them earlier but when his instincts took over and he began trying to attack the animals they were stalking without success, Ares tied him up at the campsite. “Can’t we at least stay inside the cave?” he groused as he tossed the boar to the sand to tie a rope around its hind legs. Over the years Raven, Ares, Alena and the women had made many trips to this island and they always stayed in the cave where there were beds and heat, few if any bugs to bite in the night. Today Ares made Raven use his genetic memory to remember how to fashion his own shelter from the trees and leaves around him. When Raven complained that he could just whip them up a rather swank hut, Ares rolled his eyes and told him that wasn’t the way they were doing things on this trip.

  “What, the lean-to isn’t good enough for you?” Ares finished tying the rope around the hind legs of the buck. Together they went to the tree line, found two sturdy trees, threw the empty end of their ropes over heavy branches and then hauled up their catch before slicing each stem to stern, letting the blood and guts fall to the sandy dirt below their feet. “Are you afraid to live your life like a Mortal Man? To work and sweat and put your back into your efforts?”

  “I’m not afraid of anything,” Raven retorted. “I don’t see why I should break my back when I really don’t hav’ta.” The boy ripped the heart out of the boar’s chest and held it up for Ares to see. “I’m an Olympian, like you and the rest. I’m not like my mother; I’m not fragile, weak and inept. I was born to rule, not serve.”

  So much machismo for one so young. “Are you going to eat that now?” Ares challenged and was shocked when Raven took a big bite out of the warm heart. Blood covered his face from nose to chin as his teeth sunk in deep, ripped off a huge chunk and then swallowed it. A few thousand years ago Ares would have done the same thing and it would have been acceptable, but that time had long passed as well. Ares grunted and grimaced as he looked away from the sight.

  “Apollo’s right, you’re pussy-whipped.”

  “No, I’m not. And that is an ugly word; don’t use it again.”

  “Yeah you are, not that long ago you would have bathed in its blood,” Raven’s eyes narrowed on his Father’s as he pointed to his forehead with the bloody knife, �
��but now you take bubble baths instead.” Ravens upper lip curled into a sneer of disgust.

  “If you want to see something that’s whipped, look over there.” Ares let his angry eyes wander off toward where Spirit Walker was tied up. “That poor bastard can’t even hunt a meal for itself.”

  “Like me, he doesn’t have to.” Raven stuck the tip of the blade below the boar’s right rear hoof and began skinning it by tearing the flesh from the meat.

  Ares gave his work more attention than his Son did as he skinned the buck, carefully peeling back the layers of flesh and hide from the rear ankles to the head. Up to his elbows in blood and guts with the fresh hide slung over his brawny sweaty shoulder, he gave the buck a good solid yank to make sure it was secure and then walked away from it, only to turn around and face his Son. “I’ve eaten the hearts and bathed in the blood of worthy opponents and warriors that I met in battle,” he looked past Raven to the carcasses hanging in the tree, “but not a pathetic beast.” With a disapproving sneer he met Raven’s gaze once more. “I think you’re getting my memories and your mother’s mixed up.” Eating the heart of a wild beast was more of a savage tradition, something Alena would have seen in a Druid Ritual or in Ceres Agar, or even if she’d spent any time among the Indians on the Western Plains of the newly forming United States. It was not an Olympian, and rarely if at all, was it a Greek Tradition. “Our little trip here is about more than hunting. Why don’t you finish skinning that boar, wash yourself off in the ocean and then come sit with me by the fire? I believe we have much to discuss.”

  Raven stared off after his Father, blood still clinging to his cheeks and jaw and wondered if Ares was right. Ares’ memories were growing clearer in Raven’s mind, but his mother’s were fuzzy and faded. They were just like out of focus snapshots that he couldn’t quite make out. The boy thought that was because Feys didn’t possess genetic memory; everything they knew they handed down orally from generation to generation. While he could glean some things about his mother’s past, with the exception of one thing, most of it eluded him. “What about the tree?” Raven shouted to his Father. “Where’s the Willow tree?”