The Heart of War (34 page)

Well if this wasn’t the Double Cross to Beat All Double Crosses. Alena stomped her bare foot and turned around on her heels back in the direction they’d come. The big door was still open but she had the feeling if she ran for it Zeus, Ares, or one of Them would slam it shut with their mind. Alena turned around again knowing she was trapped but refusing to give up. “You don’t own me.”

“But…I do…
Fey
,” Ares corrected. “After last night your heart and the body that goes with it belong to me. It’s your Fate, accept it.”

“I can’t believe you’d use that against me,” Alena gasped.

“What do I use?” Ares spat. “You said it yourself last night; you’re mine. Only mine. Always mine. Remember?”

“You made promises too…remember?” Alena shot back at him as her words came back to haunt her just as she had feared they would. “You’re a
liar
. You said you love me.”

“I did?” Ares mused. “When?”

“You said…”

And I you.

Not, I love you.

“You really are a misogynistic chauvinistic son of a bitch.” Closing her eyes and feeling her heart deflate, Alena swore she could hear the loud ringing of a steel trap door slamming shut behind her. “You’re cruel.”

Again Aphrodite let out a loud spiteful cackle, the others slowly joined in. “Oh, my, Ares! Wherever did you get this one?” Aphrodite asked between laughs. “You are a dumb bitch.”

“I am NOT….”

Ares yanked on her arm, bent down again, and whispered in her ear. “Alena, please, be quiet. Please, trust me.”

“Trust you? Are you kidding?” There was something in his eyes that told her he was not lying. He really did have some type of plan cooking back there in that dark head of his. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“What choice have you got?” Standing up again, Ares looked at his Father.

“Are you ready?” The answer was only a shrug of Alena’s slender shoulders. Zeus eyed Alena carefully. He did not know what Ares said to her but she seemed to have calmed down quite a bit even if she wasn’t happy with the situation. With a wave of Zeus’ hand, a very large and uncomfortable looking marble chair appeared near where Alena stood. “Sit, my dear.” The Fey wasn’t what Zeus would consider his Son’s normal cup of sexual tea. Ares liked stout women. Solidly built women. This one looked as though a strong wind would lift her off her feet and carry her away.

“But I don’t know anything about Artemis,” Alena whispered in fear as she climbed into the chair. “I swear it, Great Father. If I did I would tell you.”

Zeus smiled at her use of the old words and then shook his head slightly as he found that he believed her. The little Fey had an edge about her but it did not override her sweetness. “Sometimes we know things we don’t even know we know.” Raising his staff with one hand, he slid the other palm past her eyes. “Sleep,” he commanded softly and Alena fell into a very deep slumber.

Since his Father was so close to him and the timing nearly perfect Ares stole his moment and leaned in close to Zeus. “When you’re done with this Father, I want you to look around in her mind and tell me where she’s been for the last month or so.”

It wasn’t an outrageous demand but it puzzled the Great God. “Why?”

Looking over at the Three Musketeers—Eros, Aphrodite, and Apollo—from the corner of his eye, Ares continued to whisper. “I think you’ll find something very interesting there, Father. Someone has erased her memory and implanted new ones. Who could have that kind of power?”

Zeus turned to look over his shoulder at Apollo. “Agreed.” Waving his aged hand in the air a large screen appeared in the air above their heads. At first it was blank, showing nothing but black that matched the walls, but as Zeus laid his hands on the sides of Alena’s head images began to form on the screen. The Olympians all sat forward and watched with great anticipation.

2

Many images flashed by on the screen in the Great Council Chamber, they flew by fast as lightning while Zeus poked and prodded around in Alena’s mind. It was like watching someone rapidly flip through the pages of a thick photograph album backwards. Not much could be seen or understood with the naked eye other than the blur of colors as the pictures passed by. However, there was a strange and very strong emotional undertow accompanying them. Suddenly the images ceased and the screen turned black for a moment. As though someone started up an old projector, the images came back and moved slowly forward until a little movie began to play, it starred one Little Magdalena MacLeod, a mere five years of age, cute and precious as a button appeared on the screen. At first Ares did not recognize her. The hair threw him. Not gray, not silver, but beautiful golden fire. Looking at it drove a pang of dread through his heart.

A wicker basket in one hand, she skipped barefoot through the green forest gathering up flowers and herbs as she hummed happy a little tune. Rings of daisies in her hair, around her ankles and wrists, she looked like a little princess in her pretty yellow dress.

Over her humming, there was the soft sound of weeping. The little girl peered around a tree and saw a woman sitting on the forest floor crying.

“Artemis,” Zeus whispered in victory as they all gazed at the screen. “What did I tell you?” he asked all present.

Ares stood there with his mouth agape but he said nothing.

“Don’t cry pretty lady,” the little girl said and held out a daisy to the weeping woman as she put an arm around Artemis’ shoulder and patted her back. “Everything’s ok.”

Artemis stared at the flower and the little girl with the red hair and big gray eyes; she wiped her tears away and took the flower offered to her. “You’re a very kind little girl,” Artemis said softly as she gazed down at the flower. “Thank you.”

The little girl sat down next to Artemis. “Why are you crying?”

“I had an argument with someone, they hurt my feelings.” The little girl patted her hand and then rested her head on Artemis’ arm.

“I’m sorry,” she said thoughtfully and then gave the Goddess a hug.

“Your flower makes me feel better,” Artemis returned and then looked around. They were very deep in the woods; surely this little girl was not out here all alone. “Where are you friends? Nearby?”

Artemis looked and indeed strained her eyes in the direction the girl pointed, but she saw nothing. Several miles back she had passed a small village. “You’re from the Fey village?” The little girl brightened and nodded happily. “My dear, that’s a long way away. You shouldn’t be out here alone. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Magdalena but everyone calls me Maggie.”

Artemis held out her hand and the little girl took it. “Hello Maggie, I’m….Diana. Come with me and I will take you home, it’s going to be dark soon.”

Maggie didn’t want to go home. “Want to play a game? Rosies and Posies?” But her new friend just stared at her as though she didn’t know what Maggie meant. “Get up,” she encouraged brightly and watched as Diana got to her feet. Maggie took her hands and began to sing as she danced around in a circle. “Ring around the rosies, pockets full of posies, ashes ashes, we all fall…DOWN!” Maggie dropped to the lush green grass laughing but Diana remained standing. “You try.” Maggie got up and dusted the grass from the yellow dress as she took her new friend’s hands once more and began to dance around in a circle. “Ring around the rosies, pockets full of posies, ashes…ashes…we all fall…DOWN!” This time Diana fell to the ground with her and they both laughed. It was nice to hear Diana laugh and see her smile rather than cry.

They played the game a few more times, each time dancing faster, falling harder, and laughing louder, before Artemis took the little girl by the hand and brought her home. Standing on the outskirts of the small village nestled in the trees, she watched Maggie skip off toward home.

This occurrence went on for the next week or so. Maggie would wander out to the woods looking for her friend Diana, they would pick flowers, play games, hold pretend tea parties, and they made daisy chains and wreaths of flowers, and chased rabbits. Artemis never took a man to her bed so she never had a child of her own but it seemed to Zeus and the others that, for a little while anyway, Maggie sufficed as a surrogate daughter. From these memories Artemis seemed very attached to the little girl.

Then the horrible day came and it played itself out on the screen above the Olympians in the Great Council Chamber. Maggie went looking for her friend but instead of finding Diana by the big Elm tree where she usually was there was no one. “Diana? Diana?” Maggie called out and began to look around. “Are you hiding? I can find you,” she called out in a happy singsong voice. “I’m good at finding things.” Maggie looked around and around, behind trees and rocks and couldn’t find Diana. She began to think that somehow she had angered her new friend and now Diana would not come to play with her any longer. That would be terrible; Diana was Maggie’s only friend as there were no other children here. “Diana? Oh, please don’t go away. If I did something bad I’m sorry!”

Just as Maggie hung her head in defeat resigned to the loss of her new friend a terrible sound came to her ears. It sounded like someone being hit! Then she heard a scream! “Diana? Diana?” Maggie called out with urgency and began to look around again but this time she broadened her search. A dreadful feeling crept over her and all of the happiness that had been bubbling away inside of Maggie suddenly fled. It was replaced with deep-seated fear. The forest was quiet, far too quiet, no birds sang in the trees, no animals scurried past; it seemed that even the ever-running brook had stopped its babbling. “Diana?” Maggie whispered fearfully.

Creeping around a large pine, she saw the most horrible sight! Diana was on the ground on her knees, her pretty white dress stained with grass, dirt and blood. It was hiked up past her back, the flesh of which was ripped open and oozing blood. Her face was bloody and stained with tears. Behind her was a fearsome creature, he had great horns upon his head that would make any stag green with envy. Instead of man’s legs, he had legs of a stag as well, great thick hairy stag legs, the hooves of which were planted heavily into the ground as he moved back and forth behind the crying Diana. One large hand was firm on her bare hip and the other pressed against her mid-back keeping her pinned below him.

“Profess to love me and then refuse me will you?” he hissed angrily. “No woman refuses me! No woman taunts me!”

Maggie did not know what to do; indeed, she wasn’t even sure what was happening other than to be able to say that it was a very bad thing. Picking up a nearby rock, she chucked it at the Stag-Man, striking him on the shoulder. “Get away from her!” Maggie shouted out bravely. “She’s…my friend!” The little girl hurled another rock at the bad Stag-Man, this time striking him in the head. He didn’t cry out and he didn’t fall down, instead he slowly turned his head in her direction and gave her a very cold smile but he didn’t stop hurting Diana.

“Maggie! Run!” Diana shouted out from below him. “RUN!”

That sounded like a good idea but Maggie couldn’t get her legs to comply. She was frozen in place watching the man brutalize her friend. The Stag-Man pushed Diana down until she was flat on the ground. With him up high on his animal haunches, pushing his hips forward and pulling them back again with enough force to make Diana’s body shake and her head bounce on the forest floor. “STOP!”

Just as she screamed out her command the Stag-Man’s face froze, it turned bright red, and then…he roared. He roared so loud that the quiet birds hiding in the trees scattered to the skies and the small forest animals ran for cover. When he was done roaring, he stood up and Maggie saw what he had been thrusting in and out of Diana. Her gray eyes grew wide at the sight of his cock covered in blood and dripping white goo. Thinking her ordeal now over and the only remaining thought in Artemis’ head being to protect the little girl, she turned over on her back and struggled to stand. The Stag-Man reached down for one of the heavy rocks Maggie threw at him. He picked it up, looked at the little girl, he even winked at her, and then he began bashing Diana’s head with the rock. She held up her hands and tried to ward him off but it was of no use.

Again and again and again, the Stag-Man hit her with the rock until her skull burst open and her brains leaked onto the green grass.

“NO!” Maggie screamed. “DIANA!”

As the Goddess lay dying, the Stag-Man yanked on a chain around his hairy neck—on it was a small bottle. He held his hand over Diana with the bottle open and as she gasped for her last breath something came out of her in a long silvery strand, like a puff of smoke but not smoke as it glimmered in the sunlight. The Stag-Man trapped it in the bottle.

Then he charged at Maggie.

Maggie didn’t want him to do to her what he’d done to Diana, she ran like the wind with him hot on her heels, his great hooves thundering on the ground. Instead of running home to her mother, Maggie ran deeper and deeper into the forest until she didn’t know where she was any longer. She ran this way and that way until her legs could run no more and she hid in a hole inside of a large oak tree holding her breath and clutching her knees which were drawn up to her chest hitching with tears and fear.