As if responding to the god’s taunt, the tank fired, flame and smoke spewing from its barrel. Ares leapt high into the air, grinning to himself, as the shell slammed into the ground where he had been. His leap carried him the full distance to the tank, and before it could run or fire a second shot, Ares tore into its armored hide. He wrenched the tracks from the tank’s wheels and bent the cannon into a perfect L-pipe. Then, like all the others he had destroyed, he picked it up and sent it flying.
The tank hit the ground and rolled. Flame poured from the openings, and sparks and bullets flew in all directions. A moment later, the tank exploded.
Ares crouched and looked for his next victim, but none could be seen. The battlefield was silent, strangely so. He could no longer hear the fearful beats of hearts, nor whispers of panic between frightened soldiers. He could not even smell their sweat-soaked bodies. Had they admitted defeat? Fled the field in cowardice? Taken their own lives to avoid capture?
Ares stood tall and proud. “Who else shall test his might against me?”
No one answered the challenge. Thus Ares headed back to where he had left Alex, hoping the mortal would still provide him with some sport.
* * *
“Oh, god, Alex, please be alive.”
Alex, flat on his back and wracked with pain, craned his head up and to the right to see who was calling to him. It turned out to be a pale, wide-eyed, Jessica standing over him with a trembling body.
“I’m alive,” he said as she dropped to her knees at his side. “Can’t move very well, though.”
“Save your strength,” she said. Tears stained her cheeks, and she eased his head down and stroked his hair. She snorted and looked at the sky before laughing out of grief. “I never thought I’d have this conversation, not with you, at least.”
“About what?”
“All the things I should say,” she whispered. “Want to say.”
“As much as I’d love to milk a deathbed confessional out of you, don’t worry. I’ll live.”
“Did you miss the fact that half your blood is on the rocks?”
“Hades said all this will heal by morning, somehow,” he replied. “Can you get me to my feet?”
Jessica pulled an olive satchel with a red cross off her back. She emptied its contents on the ground and sifted through the bandages, needles, thread, rubber tubing, and tape before finding a small pack of morphine syrettes. “Found this off a dead corpsman,” she said as she stuck him with the needle. “Thought it might come in handy.”
“I thought you were going to stay back where it was safe.”
“I thought you were going to win,” she said. “I wanted pictures.”
“Stupidly dangerous,” Alex said as his arm warmed and started to numb.
“Hush. I wasn’t in any more danger than any other wartime photographer,” she said. When Alex raised an eyebrow, she capitulated his point. “Okay, it was dangerous. But god, look at you. You can’t tell me you’d rather be alone right now.”
“Not particularly,” he said.
“Exactly. Anyway, I have no idea how your arm is supposed to heal,” she said. “And I can see your shin bone in your left leg, too. Can’t imagine what all that feels like, and honestly, I don’t want to know.”
“Give me some more morphine and I’d call it a hair less painful than what I imagine childbirth is like.”
Jessica stuck him with another syrette before taking a tourniquet and cinching it down around what was left of his shoulder. “I said I didn’t want to know.”
Alex sucked in a breath and grit his teeth as another wave of agony washed over him. When it was over, he managed a weak smile as he looked at her. “You’ve got quite the stomach for this. Surprised you’re not puking everywhere.”
“I’m not the one that puked in anatomy class. You were,” she said, patting his head.
“I think that was understandable given we were watching a video where they peeled off some guy’s face.”
“That was so cool.”
“That was so not. Look, I’m glad you came and glad you helped, but you should go now. It’s not safe here.”
“The hell I will,” she said. “No one is going to pry me away from you and make you spend the night alone—not in the shape you’re in.”
Alex, without the strength to argue, closed his eyes and distracted himself from the pain by focusing on Jessica’s angelic touch as she stroked his head. The bliss he found, however, did not last long.
“Up, little Alex,” came the command, but not from Jessica. No, Alex knew that rough voice all too well know. It belonged to Ares.
Alex opened his eyes, and with Jessica’s help, he managed to sit upright. “I want my wife back.”
“You and your army are in tatters,” Ares said. He ran a finger across his grime-covered forehead and showed it to Alex. “I bathe in the blood of your men. The day is hardly yours.”
“The day isn’t over yet,” said Alex. Had he been of right mind, he might have thought better of such a challenge. There was no telling what Ares might do if he thought the battle was still on. But since the morphine was clouding his brain, the reply rolled right off his tongue without a second thought.
Ares smiled and shook his head. “It is for you, Alex.” The god planted his spear in the ground, stuck his fingers in his mouth, and whistled sharply. Alex’s ponies, still drawing their chariot, appeared in the distance. “Tomorrow we shall battle again,” Ares said, watching the ponies approach. “For your sake, I hope you offer more of a challenge.”
“He’ll be lucky if he can walk with crutches in a month, let alone pick up a gun,” Jessica said, putting a protective hand on Alex’s shoulder.
“A body of Hades needing a month to heal?” the god said, chuckling. “You’ll be good as new by nightfall, mark my words.”
The ponies arrived, and Alex put his arm across the back of Jessica’s shoulders. “Help me up,” he said, his eyes locked on the chariot. “We’ve work to do.”
“Yes, Alex,” said Ares with a dark tone. “You’ve much work to do. But there’s something you should know before tomorrow comes.”
Alex, now on his feet, sighed and shook his head. “Always something,” he muttered. “What is it?”
“To the victor go the spoils,” Ares said, holding up Hades’ scepter. “Since I won this day, this shall be my prize.”
“No!” Alex cried out, lunging, tumbling forward as he did. Thankfully, Jessica caught him before fell completely. “That’s not yours.”
“Take it from me,” said Ares, folding his arms across his chest. When Alex couldn’t meet challenge, the god nodded curtly and began to walk away. “Rest well, Alex,” he said over his shoulder. “Tomorrow we’ll see if you can gain back your wife and your precious scepter.”
Chapter Twenty
Alex sat in a folding chair under a cloudless sky, deep within his remaining army’s camp and sighed. He already longed for days that weren’t filled with the crack of rifles, explosions from mortars, and severing of arms by god-thrown spears. He longed for days that filled him with joy, not those that sapped his strength and taxed his body. In short, he longed for the war to be over and for Euryale to be at his side once more. At least the words Ares had spoken were true. Alex’s arm and leg had all but fully healed. There was some stiffness in both, but they worked. At least that was something.
“Shouldn’t you be preparing for tomorrow?” Athena asked, glancing over the book she was reading. She sat near a campfire, and thus far, hadn’t said much except to wish Jessica well when she trotted off to photograph the night sky.
“This helps me think,” he replied as he licked and sealed an envelope and then used a small ribbon to tie it to a balloon. With his left hand he held the ribbon tight, letting the envelope dangle below as the balloon tugged toward the stars. When the wind was right, he gave the letter a quick kiss and let it go.
Athena raised an eyebrow at the sig
ht. “How many is that?”
“Forty-eight.” Alex checked the near-empty bag at his side. Only one balloon remained. “No, forty-nine.”
“Hallmark card?”
“Yeah,” he said as he grabbed the last balloon. “Took the chariot out a couple of hours ago and picked up some things. Hallmark cards, balloons, Jessica’s laptop, some more beef jerky.”
“You bought beef jerky?” she asked with surprise.
“Want a piece?” he said, reaching into a plastic bag and pulling out a stick of Hot-N-Tuff. “This is the granddaddy of jerk right here.”
“No, thank you,” Athena replied. “But getting back to the balloons, of all your ideas, I think this is the worst. Worse than the pigeons, even.”
Alex paused his balloon making. “How else am I supposed to talk to Euryale? It’s not like Ares will let me waltz in and see her. There’s no phone or internet. I would’ve tried pigeons, but I’m not sure how they work, let alone where to buy some. Thus, I’m using something that’s cheaper and easier to manage—i.e. balloons.”
“Delivery method aside,” Athena said, “flooding your wife with impersonal cards isn’t the way to do it.”
Alex huffed and stuck a piece of beef jerky in his mouth like a cigar and slowly chewed on the end. His taste buds exploded in a deluge of spicy goodness. Sure, it brought a few tears to his eyes, but they were good tears. Tears that celebrated the perfect jerk. However, his state of masticating bliss didn’t last. His thoughts soon returned to the war, Euryale, and her continued absence. Frustrated, Alex grabbed a nearby stone and threw it into the campfire. “I’m sick of this.”
“Please don’t do that,” Athena said, lowering her book. “You’re disturbing the light and there’s no moon out. Selene took the night off and Artemis isn’t covering for her.”
Alex grunted. “This isn’t fun, not that it ever was.”
“It’s day one and you’re already turning in the towel?” she said, rolling her eyes. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder. You should be taking this opportunity to develop your romantic side.”
“No, absence drives you crazy is what it does.” Alex did have another, a more vulgar and insulting response, one that would challenge her knowledge of anything romantic, but he chose to keep it to himself, for his liver’s sake. Despite his verbal self-constraint, his knew his face soured, mirroring his thoughts. Fortunately, Athena had returned to her own reading and took no note.
The conversation ground to a halt, and for several more minutes, Alex stewed about the current state of affairs in silence. Finally, he groaned out of frustration. “That’s it,” he said as he took to his feet and brushed himself off. “I’m done. I’m done. I can’t take this anymore. Everyone knows I can’t beat him. I’ll surrender and be done with it. I’ll admit I cheated, even if I didn’t, and give into whatever demands he wants.”
“What if he wants you to leave Euryale?” Athena said, looking at him disapprovingly. “You going to give her up too to avoid a little pain?”
“A little? I got pulverized out there today!”
“And lived to tell the tale. You’ll do better next time.”
“He has my scepter,” Alex replied. “That means no more army, and no immortality for me anytime he chooses. He can literally break me anytime he wants.”
“That does complicate things on your end. But if I were you, I’d consider what ‘whatever he wants’ might entail.”
“Euryale will understand,” he said. “She wouldn’t want me to be pounded into jelly on her account. Besides, it’s not like we can’t get back together after this is all through.”
“Unless those are the terms of your surrender.”
“Ugh!” Alex threw up his hands. “Why are you pushing this doom and gloom scenario so much?”
Athena closed her book, keeping a finger to mark her place. “Because if you’re going to ruin an experiment this quickly, I don’t want you to have any excuse afterward as to what the consequences might or might not be.”
“Experiment?” Alex said, unsure if he heard her right. “What are you on about?”
“What does it matter?” Athena said, returning to her book. “You obviously don’t love your wife if you’re giving up after the first day.”
“You stole my wife to see if I’d try and get her back?”
“Ares stole your wife, Alex. I’m merely observing,” Athena said.
“This is why you won’t help?”
“I can’t falsify the data. I need to see if the match I made is the real deal,” she said. “By the way, you’re really starting to give the name Alex a bad reputation.”
Alex set his jaw and clenched both of his fists at his side. “Oh I am, am I?”
“Yes, you are,” she said. “You’d be much more likeable if you followed in the footsteps of Alexander of Macedon. Do you have any idea how much of the world he conquered by the time he was thirty-two?”
“I bet he wasn’t fighting a war against Ares so some stupid goddess could feel good about herself.”
Athena placed her book down and took to her feet. Her march around the campfire was stopped when Alex took to his and the two squared off. “Do we need another lesson, Alex?” she said, jabbing him in the chest with two fingers and narrowing her eyes. “I thought you knew better than to make such careless remarks.”
“Threaten me all you like,” Alex replied, keeping his defiant tone. “But it won’t change the truth. Dismissing my suffering—my wife’s suffering—as some grand test isn’t a scholarly pursuit of wisdom. It’s for your own selfish ego, and it’s positively evil.”
Athena stepped forward and pushed him into his chair. “Let’s get something very clear, Alex. You are in no position to make any judgments about anything I do.”
Alex opened his mouth to speak, but with Athena towering over him, he opted to shut it and remain silent.
“Perhaps some clarification is in order,” she went on with a smirk. “Were you around when man was fashioned or Elysium was made?”
“Of course not.”
“Then certainly you can pull the sun across the sky,” she added as she circled him. “Or did you bind the Titans with the greatness of your strength?”
Alex shook his head. He didn’t need a map to see where this was headed.
“Did you slay Argus? Tame Cerberus? Undoubtedly you’ve done something to warrant this attitude of yours,” she said, drumming her fingers on folded arms. “By all means, boast of your accomplishments and take your rightful place amongst the Olympians if your deeds are as great.”
“I spoke out of frustration,” he said, choosing his words carefully. He despised her chiding nature, and though the temptation to argue was still there, he decided that at best all he could win was a Pyrrhic victory. It was time to get back on track. It was time to save his wife. “I’ve done none of those things, but you ask the impossible of me. You can’t expect me to hear any of this and not be angry.”
“The only thing I expect you to do, Alex, is to beat my brother and rescue your wife,” Athena said. The unyielding tone eased in her voice, and the goddess took a step back. “Whether or not you have the desire to do so, is up to you.”
“Beat him without your help,” added Alex.
“Yes, without my help,” she said.
“I have an idea,” Jessica said as she stepped into the circle of firelight. When Alex and Athena turned toward her, both surprised at her arrival, she smiled and went on. “Sorry, I kept quiet when you two were arguing since I didn’t want to catch a stray curse.”
“See, Alex? Here’s a mortal I like. She knows who’s in charge,” Athena said.
Alex forced the tension out of his back and neck as he let the goddess’s statement go. “What’s your idea, Jessica?”
“Well, since you’re fighting Ares, I thought Hephaestus might be willing to help.”
Alex dropped his eyebrows, not following her logic. “Why would he?”
“You never did read your mythology,” Jessica said with a huff. “Ares and Aphrodite had an affair. Hephaestus was none too pleased when he found out.”
For the first time since his last encounter with the God of War, Alex’s face lit up with hope. “You think he’d want revenge?”
Jessica shrugged. “Worth a shot.”
“Think he could actually make me something to take Ares down?”
“He could make you a banana that would take him down,” Jessica said before snatching a piece of jerky from Alex’s pouch. “He’s the God of Smiths, after all. I’m sure in that magical forge he can make anything into a weapon of legends.”
Alex chuckled as a thought came to him. “A banana?”
“I think you’d want something other than a banana,” Jessica said.
“I’m not planning to attack him with fruit,” he said, “but that did give me an idea.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“Yeah, give me a sec.” Alex ducked inside his nearby tent, rummaged through the contents of a small chest, and returned to the campfire with parchment and quill in hand.
Though Athena’s anger seemed to have subsided upon his return, her sarcasm had not. “Going to pen an epic poem?” she asked.
“No,” he stated. “I’m going to challenge Ares to a duel.”
Athena and Jessica watched as Alex penned the letter. On the scroll he wrote:
To Ares, son of Zeus, God of War and lord of battle, from Alexander Weiss, husband of Euryale.
In the light of this drawn-out campaign, I offer that all matters between the two of us be settled by manner of individual combat, to take place tomorrow morning at 9:00 a.m. in the arena.
Athena took it from him and read it over. When she finished, she handed it back and regarded him with an arched eyebrow. “Since we all know you will never defeat Ares in one-on-one combat, why don’t you indulge our curiosity as to what you are planning.”
“Let me see if he agrees first. Otherwise it’s pointless,” Alex said. He then gave a sharp, three-note whistle, and before he could draw another breath, Hermes stood before him, jogging in place. “I have a message for Ares,” Alex said. “If you would be so kind as to deliver it for me, I would be eternally grateful.”
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