The Heart of War Page 8

  “We’re poor,” Maggie stammered, “we had to…work our way over.”

  “To Rome? The Pope was going to honor this Father Murphy yet you had to labor your passage to the Vatican?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought I asked you to look at me, woman. Bring your eyes up here.” It was all a lie, every word she had spoken regarding the time that she left the camp was completely and utterly false. She was not purposefully lying to him; she was lying to herself, her mind still filling in those pieces as he led her down this literary path. “You were working on this boat,” he coached, “and someone tied your hands. Why?”

  Why? Why would someone tie her hands?

  “P…pi….pirates,” Maggie gasped in a whisper.

  “Pirates!” Ares mocked in a gasp as he sat back on the throne. This got more and more interesting as it went along. The woman had quite an imagination even if she did not know it. Ares felt almost certain that if the woman could see her face as she spoke then she would know that she was lying. Yet, he was afraid to put her in front of a mirror; someone had stolen this piece of her life, or the memory of it, anyway. If her feared Druids had found her in her refugee camp, if they’d lost her while trying to get her back to Cernunnos, why didn’t she remember that? They would not have had time to steal her memory of the event if she escaped them. Someone else took her from that camp and he was very curious to know who and why. “What happened? Did they board your vessel and take it over?”

  “Yes!” Maggie exclaimed and held her hands up in the air in excitement. “Yes, that’s it! They bound my hands. They took us…they took us to a ….a room. They left us there. Then there were raised voices and a crash and…”

  “An explosion,” Ares finished with a nod of his raven head, thinking that she should write those crummy crime-mystery books for a living.

  “Yes, then I was in the water.”

  This was where she stopped lying to him and to herself.

  “It was cold and dark.” She looked up at him with wet stormy eyes. “There was no one. Only silence. So quiet, just the waves and the moon and the stars. I just kept swimming and trying to stay afloat. Night became day and then night again. So many times I went under, sure I was not going to break the surface again. I almost welcomed it after a while, this would all be over, if I were dead then all of it would die with me.” Maggie started to weep. “I’m not dead and it’s not over.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks and returned to her story. “And then….as though Avalon itself were rising out of the sea, I saw green. So much blue above, below and all around and then there was green! The white and brown and this island came into my view. I didn’t think I’d make it here.” Feeling a chill run through her, she moved closer to the flames.

  “Another step and you’ll be in the fire, woman,” Ares warned. “If it’s not hot enough tell me and I will stoke it further for you, but you should come away from there. “

  Maggie took a few steps away from the flames when she realized how close she’d come to the fire. “Sorry, the heat,” she rubbed her misshaped hips, “helps.”

  Ares nodded again. “Until it heats the gold around you too hot and it begins to sear you. I would think by now, woman, you would beg Cernunnos to come and relieve you of that. You’d stop your running and throw yourself at his mercy.”

  “Mercy? What do you know of Mercy?” Maggie scoffed. “I will never beg him for anything.”

  “Why?” Ares inquired. “Every step you take causes you pain, it must. Every step you take reminds you of who you are and what you are supposed to become, yet you still run. Is the fate of being his Queen so horrible? Others would kill and die for the chance.”

  “Let them,” Maggie spat. “They can have him. I don’t want him.”

  “I see that, but why?” Ares asked again only in a stronger, more commanding tone. “When others have so obviously and so cruelly tried to gain access to you, why not give in to your fate?” Maggie grimaced and shuddered; she wrapped her arms around her shoulders and turned away from him. “Who was it, hmm? Someone at that camp?”

  “It’s not your concern,” she muttered quietly and then turned her gray eyes to look at him. “As for why I won’t submit to him, before they put this one on me, one day I was wandering through the woods picking flowers and herbs.” Her voice started to quiver as her eyes clouded over. “I heard a woman scream, I went to help her, and I saw him. He was on top of her; he was holding her down, his hand around her throat. She was begging and pleading with him to stop and he would not listen. He killed her right in front of me. Perhaps this sits well with you, Lord Ares, but it does not with me. I will not share my bed or my life with someone like that. I would rather this belt cut into me forever; never know the love of a man, than to take that risk.”

  Ares was stunned into silence by her words but he soon recovered and leaned forward. “I war, Alena. I do not approve of rape. There is no honor in bending someone smaller and weaker than you to your will.”

  “History tells…”

  “Lies about me, History tells lies,” Ares said through gritted teeth. “Do you know you’re bleeding?” Little puddles of blood were starting to pool on his hearth at her bare feet. Little rivers of blood streaked across his white shirt.

  Chapter Five

  Free At Last

  1

  Looking down at herself she saw the fresh blood, reminding her of the pain in her inner thighs. “I know, this damn thing cuts me all the time,” she muttered.

  The God of War slid off his throne of bones and walked toward her. “Let me see,” he said as he reached down and picked up the shirt covering her. Maggie batted his hand away.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I could call Kat back down here, she could tend it for you, but somehow I doubt she’d be as gentle as I will. What do you think?”

  Maggie wasn’t an idiot; she’d caught the darts flying at her from the woman’s eyes. “I thought I was a guest.”

  “You are,” Ares assured her. “I have seen and tended many wounds in my time. Let me look at this.” He did not wait for her to give him permission before he pulled the shirt up the rest of the way and caught sight of the raw hamburger that was her inner thighs. “There must be some way to get this thing off of you,” he huffed as he reached out to touch and examine it.

  “Only Cernunnos, only a Go—“

  Ares’ hand landed on the gold at her waist—it covered the entire space between her legs, the willow tree, the love knot, and the words I Await Thee.

  Clink.

  Both of them looked down to see the band had opened at his touch.

  Staring at each other with their mouths hanging open for a moment, each of them not sure what had happened had truly happened, Maggie began to tremble and then to shake.

  It opened! It was OPEN!

  “I didn’t mean to do that,” Ares stuttered almost apologetically.

  “Get it off me!” Maggie yelled and began to try to push her fingers through the space between her waist and the band. “Get it off!” she cried again and began jumping up and down where she stood as she wriggled and struggled with the belt.

  “Women,” Ares huffed. “No, don’t touch me! Get it off of me!” he mocked in a high voice. “Make up your mind.”

  “What are you? Stupid?” With her modesty having flown straight out the window, Maggie railed at him, “GET IT OFF!” It would not budge—her skin seemed to have grown around the edges of the belt, and it would not give no matter how hard she struggled to push it down.

  “Stop it!” Ares demanded. “You’re going to rip the flesh from your bones!” She did not heed his words, she just kept trying to pull it off and he could understand her haste but… “You’re not helping!” He grabbed both of her wrists between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand and held them up over her head. The woman struggled in his grasp, her brow furrowed and her upper lip curled as she pulled and pulled, trying to escape. “Do you want me to break your arms? Will that settle
you?” Still she struggled and yanked until Ares had to add a second finger around her wrist to keep her from slipping out of his grasp. “You can’t get free of me; I am much stronger than you.” In his free hand a small vessel appeared, her eyes grew wide when she took it in. “It’s olive oil, that’s all. Just stand still.” He let go of her hands and when she stood still, he drizzled the oil over and around the band at her waist, using one finger to push away her skin, allowing the oil to drip past the gold. The top rim soaked, Ares poured a handful of the oil into his palm. “Open your legs.”

  Maggie hesitated; she wanted the belt off more than anything but feared what would happen the second it hit the floor.

  “You want to be rid of it or not?”

  Taking a breath and keeping her stare fixed to his looking for any sign that he meant harm, Maggie spread her legs apart. Ares’ warm hand slid between them, the oil on his palm greasing his way along her inner thighs. Reaching around and up, that slick hand slid along the space between the cheeks of her buttocks and then returned to the front of the belt. A rush of air escaped her lips as they prod onward, easing the rims away from her tender flesh.

  Ares heard her heartbeat quicken as the tips of her fingers began reaching out in his direction even as she clutched the hem of the shirt to her. Taking a moment, he looked at her from the corner of his eye and thought he saw something staring back at him. What was it? Curiosity? Heat? It wasn’t fear. “Women,” Ares huffed for the last time. “Don’t move.” Forcing the tips of his fingers into the band on either side of her waist, Ares pulled until they heard a horrid little sucking sound and she let out a cry of agony just before the gold belt hit the dirt floor.

  Maggie jumped away from it as though it would burn her. She looked at it lying on the floor and then let her hands slide down her own hips to feel sensitive skin.

  It was gone! It was finally GONE!

  Even though she was in pain and bleeding, the overwhelming sense of freedom took her away with it; she couldn’t help but reach down between her own legs to touch the very tender space there. Maggie hadn’t seen or felt this part of her body since she was twelve; she thought it was locked away forever. The touch of her own hand was invigorating; before she knew it she was rubbing and then scratching briskly as she let out little moans of relief.

  “Feels good, hmmm?” Ares asked and began to laugh; the space between his own legs began to tingle. He was disappointed when her hands fell away from the area. “Don’t stop on my account, no, keep going.”

  “I suppose I’m no longer a guest now,” Maggie huffed and then continued to stretch, pull, rub and scratch to the point she was causing it to bleed harder. She did not care, even the pain felt good. Just to have the air around her once more was blissful.

  “I told you, I don’t much care for virgins,” he teased. “But we’ll see about that, however, not until after you’ve soaked in a very hot tub for an hour at least.”

  In that sentence only a single word caught her attention. “Tub? You have a tub?”

  “What? You think I bathe in the ocean?” Ares countered as she dropped the hem of the bloody shirt, removing his view of that intriguing and hairless place between her legs. He had expected to see a rather gnarly patch of coarse gray hair there when the belt fell away from but she was as bald as an adolescent girl. Ares had an idea that would truly piss off Kat and he held back the chuckle. “Come with me,” he invited cheerily and took her hand, not waiting for her to answer. Passing by the foot of the steps that lead to his bedroom, Ares called up them. “Dear Katrina, come down to the spa and bring your best bathing supplies with you!” Luxuries were small around here, Kat had been right about that. Over the years, Ares discovered that one small thing was effective as a dangling carrot when it came to his women: bubbles. Oils. Salts. Lotions. Shampoos. Perfumes. Women loved that crap. Therefore from time to time he would bring the most exotic of these simple products back to the cave with him and give them to his women. They were always ever so grateful.

  Kat had been waiting for Ares in his bed when the call came up the steps and her blood ran cold. “If he thinks she’s going to use my things, he’s out of his mind!” she growled to no one.

  “Now! Woman!” Looping Alena’s arm through his, Ares led her down to the lowest level of his home where a whirling hot spring awaited bubbling up in a stone-lined tub big enough to accommodate a dozen people. The sprawling room that the women referred to as The Spa had a wide variety of uses other than bathing. Currently there was a large weight set and bench off in one corner.

  Maggie let out a little gasp shortly after they entered the steamy room. With flashbacks of Ceres Agar threatening to flood through to the front of her mind, she tried to cover her involuntary reaction. “How many rooms are here?”

  “Nine,” Ares answered. “Don’t go wandering around down here,” he advised. “There are things that will make you uneasy.”

  She saw one already and that was enough.

  2

  With a loud grunt, Kat tossed off the skins under which she had been keeping warm as she waited impatiently for Ares to finish with that stupid little twit. She opened the unlocked door to the chamber she shared with the other women. “Onya! Bring me your salts and your soaps! Your shampoos, too!” she hissed. When the young woman appeared at the top of the long winding ramp leading down to the chamber, Kat snatched the bottles from her hands with a great huff and stormed off out of the bedroom. Building up a good head of steam as she stomped her way down to the spa on the lowest level of the cave, she found Ares standing by the pool of hot bubbling spring water with that little bitch at his side. She thrust the bottles at him. “Here.”

  Ares grabbed them, looked at them, and then looked down at her with cold eyes. “These are not yours. They belong to Onya.” Ares knew that because Onya loved Lavender; she adored it, in fact, so it was the scent he always brought to her. To Kat he brought Almond & Honey, which was her favorite for bathing. “I thought I asked for your things.” He thrust them back at her.

  “What’s wrong with these? Are they not good enough for her?” she shot at Ares while she stared daggers at Maggie.

  “I’m sure they’re fine,” Maggie stammered but was too afraid to reach the bottles in Ares’ hands. “It’s been so long since I was able to bath in a hot tub with real soap and shampoo no less.” Such luxuries didn’t exist in an African refugee camp.

  “You heard her; she doesn’t have a problem with it,” Kat huffed as she turned her back to him meaning to storm out of the room.

  “But I do,” Ares countered as he grabbed her arm and turned her around. “Take these back and bring me your own.”

  3

  With her upper lip curled and the bottom one quivering, Kat took the bottles from him and walked out. Muttering to herself on her way back to the bedroom, she passed the throne room where something gold glittered on the floor by the hearth. “Little bitch,” Kat spat as she took in the sight of the chastity belt. She glanced back in the direction of the lower level of the cave and the spa. “If he thinks he’s putting her in my bed again, he’s got another thing coming.” Kat put up with the other women simply because Ares’ sexual appetite was far more than one mere mortal woman could satisfy. She did not like the way he looked at the new arrival, the way he spoke to her, or the way he took her to his bed last night and cuddled her close. This was not like him, not in the least. Kat had been here too long, seen and done too much for him to have some gray haired old biddy displace her. For now she would play along, she would wait and watch. If he kept getting closer to her, she would take action.

  “Better?” Kat said as she entered the spa once more and handed over her own bathing products, the finest of each that she could find. “Enjoy your bath,” she spat and then turned to leave the room.

  “Where are you going?” Ares asked as he grabbed her by the upper arm. “Stay here and help our guest.”

  “Why don’t you bathe her? For that matter,” she looked past Ares to
Maggie who was standing by the water, “she looks capable enough to me. Why doesn’t she bathe herself?”

  “You’re being rude, woman, you know I do not like that,” Ares warned and his grasp tightened. “She is a guest in my home, you will treat her accordingly. Am I understood?”

  Maggie suddenly had visions of drowning in her mind. “I can bathe myself,” she said softly. “I would rather do that, if it’s all the same to you, Lord Ares.”

  Kat held her tongue even though it was difficult; she waited for his reply, loathing the submissiveness in the woman’s voice and the way she called him ‘Lord Ares’. “Fine,” Ares said finally. “Leave us, woman.” Letting go of her arm, he gave Kat a shove. “Go to your quarters; perhaps Onya will finish you off.”

  4

  Before he left the room, Ares told Maggie that she was to return to the throne room when she finished bathing. Then she was alone with the whirling tub and the weight set. The water was very hot and the steam filled the room, making the air moist and thick. Maggie let out little grunts and groans as she walked down the three steps to the bottom of the pool, the hot water against the tender skin of her open sore feet and then against the tender sore flesh between her legs. Maggie couldn’t decide if it felt good or if it hurt. All she knew was the belt was finally gone, for good or ill was yet to be determined.

  In the hot water, she sat with her back to the weight set. Using the heavily scented shampoo Maggie worked up a thick lather in her gray hair. She’d been happy with just ridding it of the salt and sand earlier in the day but now with the sweet scent rising to her, easing her mind and her soul, she began to remember what it was like to live in civilization…here in this place without electricity. Wasn’t that a hoot? She washed her skin with the scented soap, again working up a heavy thick lather and blowing some of the bubbles around the room with a little titter. Strange how sometimes the smallest of things could bring so much joy. When she was clean head to toe and all cracks in between, she lounged in the churning water and nearly fell asleep. She found she had little desire to leave this tub, the water, the hot blessed water now felt wonderful between her legs, it soaked away her aches and pains as it cleansed the new wounds. There was a place like this deep in the woods where she grew up. It was not in a cave, but it was secreted like this place, more like the pool she had encountered earlier in the day, open and airy. Steam rose day and night and the Fey were often found gathered there bathing, chatting, and making love. In a very strange and unexpected way, this place made her miss her home. That was something she had not done in over a hundred years. Unlike the mortal world, this place reminded her of who she was and what she was. Out there, she could blend in with the others and pass herself off as one of them; she had done it so long she believed her own lies. Here there was no blending, no fitting in.