The Valkyrie

by Charlotte Vassell

  “Why did you wink at me? What’s wrong with you? Right, I’ll go first… white guys with dreadlocks.” Honour said.

  “Nice choice. They all deserve to die.” Glory said.

  “Those women on public transport who sit on the aisle seat and put their bag on the other one and when you ask if the seat is taken they only move their legs so you can take their bag seat instead of moving along. I despise them.” Liberty said.

  “That was really detailed. Adults who ride scooters, oh and people who cycle on pavements. I have to try really super hard not to kick their wheels when they go past so that they fall under taxis.” Glory said.

  “Tourists.” Honour said.

  “Is that purely in London or globally?” asked Liberty.

  “Globally. Stay at home with your stupid fucking backpacks.” Honour said.

  “People who describe themselves as funny.” Glory said.

  “I don’t know about that one.” Liberty said swaying a bit.

  “Bea, who do you want to die hideously?” asked Liberty.

  “Well no one.” Bea said to which the others all look at her curiously.

  “Really? Is that because you don’t really care about the mortals enough to dislike any of them?” asked Honour.

  “Well the mortals have their faults and do cruel things, but each of them feels and in their own way tries to redeem their shortcomings. Their ability to want to be better, to attempt to improve, to transcend their own limitations is admirable. Should we not follow their example and try to be better also, try and be better to them, try and be better for them?” asked Bea. Honour and Glory both laughed uproariously whilst Liberty looked mildly ashamed as she should know better.

  “So the heavens do have mercy. Someone should let the mortals know, they’ve been gagging for it for centuries.” Glory said.

  “The real question is how many of them redeem themselves. Your sentiment is noble, the reality reprehensible. As Valkyries we are in the business of assuming that they can transcend their limitations to become brighter and bolder through our efforts in Valhalla, so I must agree with you to an extent, although morally they are mostly empty. Don’t expect any sympathy for your argument with these two, Glory is a highly functioning sociopath and Honour is a nihilist.” Liberty said entering into drunken polemic territory.

  “Do you really hate them all? How can you hate them all? They have done nothing other than exist?” asked Bea.

  “Exactly they exist, and I hate everything.” Glory said triumphantly.

  “Hate is too strong a word. I’m ambivalent.” Honour said from her ivory tower.

  “I pity them.” Liberty said.

  “Why do you pity them? They are not restricted by the certainty of longevity like us. They can’t be bored of existence like Glory?” asked Bea.

  “I pity them because they do want to be more but they never will and they do not know it, they cannot see their very lowliness. That makes me sad, very sad indeed. They almost deserve better than us, but then my father made them to be like us and to aspire to our ideals but they’ll never get there. Millions have died in pursuit of true liberty, how many have been moved to tears by the prospect, how many ‘admirable’ speeches in my name and yet here I am sat here in a pub in Hackney trollied, with half of Columbia’s most profitable export up my nose. In the grand scheme of things humanity will never be much.” Liberty said.

  “Neither will Glory.” Honour said jokingly.

  “Of course I won’t, I’m a waste of fucking matter.” Glory said. Bea could not work out whether she really meant that statement.

  “Will humanity never become anything of note because they do not have liberty; they do not truly have the choice to be better? Is Liberty that constrained? Does Liberty fail them?” asked Bea.

  “I fail everyone. Bea, have you always been this deep?” asked Liberty but Bea had started pouring another round of shots.

  The karaoke began and one brave soul got up and sang I Can’t Get No Satisfaction before going back over to her pretentious girlfriend. Honour convinced poor Bea to duet with her (Bea actually had a lovely singing voice) and had nominated them for I Need A Hero.

  “Glory, this is bad.” Liberty was startled. She had had a moment of clarity as a vision pushed its way through into her mind and past the booze.

  “What the tequila?” asked Glory as she swilled some around her glass looking sceptically at it.

  “No, can I not catch a break? I’m way too drunk to deal with him and all his bullshit.” Liberty said as the pub doors opened and a beautiful, blond Greek god stepped in. Liberty and Apollo locked eyes. Unnoticed by any of the Valkyries was the simultaneous opening of the backdoor to the kitchen and from that evil doorway stepped a youth who wouldn’t have got into the pub without ID. He was soft cheeked and wore a pair of rare New Balances. That youth was no gamey sixth former trying to sneak a cheeky underage pint, no this youth was armed and purposeful. This youth was Eros, who drew back an arrow of love and aimed it true at Liberty’s heart. Within an instance Liberty was Apollo’s good and proper. Eros gave Apollo a quick nod, to signal that he had upheld his half of the bargain and ducked out of the pub before Glory spotted him. Eros was intimidated by Glory.

  ***

  Glory sat there watching Liberty’s face contort into an emotion she had never seen on her face before. If she hadn’t have been immortal Glory would have assumed that Liberty was suffering from a seizure of some sort, that was until she followed her eye line and noticed that wanker standing there, oh and one of his bloody brothers was behind him too. Apollo and Dionysius walked into the pub with the unmistakable swagger of two gods with sexual dysfunction issues that no amount of therapy would ever be able to quell. This foul pair then proceeded to sit down at the Valkyrie’s table as if they were invited. Glory sat there incredulous as they helped themselves to her sodding tequila. Liberty was also speechless but in a gooey rather than repulsed way. Honour and Bea came back from their star turn. Honour was perturbed whilst Bea looked blank.

  ***

  “So then I said to Shakespeare, you can’t write a play about Ethel the Pirate’s daughter that would be silly, and that’s how Romeo & Juliet happened.” Apollo laughed at his own anecdote as Liberty looked adoringly on “You’ve met my brother Dionysius before right?”

  “We are more than familiar. Get your hand away from there.” Glory said.

  “Stop touching me please.” Honour said far too politely as both she and Glory batted away Dionysius errant hands from their knees.

  “Wait, did you just actually claim to be Ben Affleck in Shakespeare in Love?” asked Glory appalled. Apollo didn’t bother acknowledging her and was instead staring intently at Liberty.

  “Who are you sweetheart, haven’t seen you before?” Dionysius asked Bea.

  “I’m Bea. I just started, nice to meet you.” Bea had gone to shake Dionysius’ hand but had seen the warning look that Honour shot her.

  “Don’t even think about it. Bea isn’t jaded yet.” Honour said defensively.

  “I’d tell you to keep your knickers from getting in a twist but I doubt you’re wearing any.” Dionysius said to Honour with a brazen grin.

  “Eloquent.” Glory sighed.

  “What happened to the other girl Mal, the one with the..?” asked Dionysius as he mimicked having a pair of boobs.

  “Val, she’s left. She’s getting married.” Honour said.

  “Married really? What an interesting topic of conversation.” Apollo exclaimed.

  “I need to powder my nose.” Liberty said.

  “We all do, we all look like shit.” Glory said.

  “What a dreadful simile Glory.” Apollo said as Glory practically frog marched the others to the ladies loo.

  “Why do women all go to the bathroom together in gaggles?” asked Apollo.

  “Gaggles? Is that the collective noun? It’s so they can hold each other’s dicks when they pee.” said Dionysius.

  ***

 
The ladies loo in The Queen’s Head wasn’t particularly pleasant. It always smelt faintly of sick, the mirror was cracked, and there was never any bog roll. In Geoff’s defence he had recently added in some hand cream by the sinks. There was already a girl clogging up the mirror applying mascara whilst her friend talked at her about the awful Tinder date she’d been on that week. The guy had forced his tongue down her throat, but he picked up the bill so he couldn’t possibly be all bad. Glory shooed them out like pigeons hanging around a park bench before Honour could blow her top.

  “You bloody said you ended it with him.” Honour was wounded that Liberty had apparently lied to her.

  “Yes I did, didn’t I?” Liberty said pretty dazed.

  “You lied to my face. My face, my face, my lovely face and here you are in a stupor.” Honour was beginning to get angry.

  “Are you or are you not going to marry him?” asked Glory. Glory pathologically did not believe in marriage, she saw it as a trap that had made some of her shiniest friends become harangued harridans. She couldn’t imagine what she would have been like now had she actually married way back when she was supposed to.

  “Yes. Lordy, I think I am. I just had a vision of going dress shopping with my mum.” Liberty said.

  “Huh, that’s a bit of a turnaround?” Bea said, acting very confused by everything that was going on.

  “No, no, no. Please no. It’ll be the end of it all.” Glory said, reservedly considering the gravity of the words that actually flowed from her mouth. Despite the vast quantities of alcohol and drugs floating around her body Glory was holding her emotions in considerably. She wanted to kick and scream and cry. Liberty couldn’t get married and leave her. Liberty couldn’t leave Glory or those halcyon days for fucking Apollo. Anyone but him, she couldn’t bear it if it was Apollo.

  “The end of what?” asked Liberty.

  “Of this.” Glory said.

  “Don’t be so overdramatic.” Liberty said.

  “It’ll be the end of it everything.” Glory slumped along the tiles underneath the crap old hand dryer that hadn’t worked for five odd years. She was distraught but it was impossible to be sure why these days. Liberty abandoning her was one thing but it wasn’t that clear cut.

  “I am so bloody mad with you Liberty, the number of times I’ve stayed up listening to all your theories as to why he puts you through the crap he does: all that Freudian rubbish about his parents. All the other girls he’s shagging let alone the bloody boys. Are you that much of a masochist that you’ll keep going back?” Honour asked. She was so tremendously angry she couldn’t bear to think of the pain that Liberty was storing up for her future self.

  “Calm down Honour.” Bea said.

  “Go on. Marry him. But don’t you dare think you can come to me when he’s knocked the next bint up. Is he really worth it, is he?” said Honour as she turned towards Bea saying “I’m leaving. Bea, I’d suggest you come too; you don’t want to get mixed up in it all. Oh and don’t you dare ask me to be a bridesmaid, you stupid cow.” Honour grabbed Bea firmly by the hand and swished out of the loo affronted. She charged back over to the table past a girl singing One Direction for shits and giggles and grabbed her bag. Honour stood there at the table with Bea still in tow, looking at Apollo. Before he could guess her animosity Honour’s lips spread into a broad smile.

  “Honour, how are things with you?” asked Apollo cordially.

  “Fine, thank you. I’m afraid we’re leaving. We have a busy few days in front of us. It was nice to see you again. Good evening.” Honour said.

  “Goodbye, it was most interesting to meet you.” Bea said as she followed Honour out of the pub and into a taxi back to Hackney.

  “I’d tap that.” Dionysius said.

  “Honour or the new girl?” asked Apollo.

  “And/or.” Dionysius looked wistfully at the door.

  “Honour would put up a fight. She looks like a scratcher.” Apollo said relishing the idea.

  “I know” Dionysius said with a sigh “and what about the new girl?”

  “Well that remains to be seen.” Apollo said as a wolfish grin crept on to his face.

  “She reminds me of someone but I can’t place my finger on it.”

  “I was thinking the same thing. That is disconcerting.”

  “All these girls look the same. No little premonitions about this Bea? I take it she’s another of Athena’s little minions.” Dionysius was prospecting his chance of shagging either of the girls “What did Athena say to do with the lovely Honour?”

  “Disposable. There’s no real need for Honour anymore, but I can’t see the point in killing her myself now she’s achieved their initial objective by killing Valour in order to place Bea in the house.” Apollo said. Not a twitch of emotion crossed his face.

  “Can I fuck her?” asked Dionysius whose amorous attentions were always fickle.

  “I don’t see why not.”

  “Wonderful.” Dionysius said before asking out of curiosity “Where did they put the body?”

  “Whose?” asked Apollo.

  “Valour’s” said Dionysius “Such a shame, such a nice body it was too.”

  “I don’t know you creepy necrophiliac. I didn’t want to ask. I am assuming that they left it where it fell. It will have formed some phenomenon by now: a stream perhaps, or maybe flowers. It is of no consequence.” Apollo said to his younger brother.

  “What are you going to do about Glory?” asked Dionysius.

  “Indeed, what to do with Glory.” Apollo said tailing off.

  ***

  Liberty and Glory came back from the loo completely oblivious to the conversation they had missed. Even Liberty, with her gift, was unaware of the gory truth. She looked as elated as Eros’s happily poisoned arrows made a girl. Glory looked absolutely normal. She had mastered the art of being as emotional as marble when in agony. It was a strength that she had developed in childhood and had served her well against her mother’s emotional tyranny. Her upper lip never quivered, not once. Dionysius stood up and bowed to the girls and made his exit. He knew when his brother wanted space. Glory and Liberty sat back at the table as before, except this time Liberty wriggled into the crook of Apollo’s arm.

  “I’m going to head off. Dionysius, or any of your other relations for that matter, isn’t lurking in the car park is he? I’m not in the mood for any funny business. Liberty, I’m having tea with my mother tomorrow, I need to prepare myself. It’s going to be like Vietnam all over again. Oh Apollo, I heard your sister Artemis has shacked up with a trucker called Trev and they’re playing happy families. Goddess of chastity my arse.” Glory said.

  “Screw you.” Apollo said cheerfully.

  “No screw you and your sexually dysfunctional fuckwit family.” Glory said and with that parting shot she upped and left.

  “Why are you still friends with her?” asked Apollo. Damned Glory drove him crazy.

  “God only knows.” Liberty was a bit embarrassed. It took a lot for Glory’s behaviour to affect Liberty like that but after everything she had said to her when they were alone in the toilet, Liberty had been wondering the very same thing.

  “Who?”

  “Huh, sorry what?”

  “You said God only knows.”

  “Did I? How odd. Just the one God? I really must be drunk.”

  “So are you going to marry me or not?”

  “Why not.”

  “It’ll be better this way.”

  “What way darling?”

  “My way.” Apollo tucked Liberty further into his broad chest. He kissed her on the forehead and she sighed deeply satisfied. Out of his pocket he pulled a fantastical ring and slipped it on to Liberty’s finger. A mortal girl had gone on stage and was singing Ella Fitzgerald’s Ev’ry Time We Say Goodbye. The girl could almost sing well. Damn, Glory drove him crazy.

  Driving in Cars with Gods

  Glory stood outside The Queen’s Head in the dark, all alone. Not a sodding black cab in s
ight. She was devastated by Liberty’s choice. She couldn’t fathom the cause of such a giant U-turn that was except for Freya or even Aphrodite having taken a hand in it. Freya had pulled Liberty aside in Valhalla, but she was too self-involved to care unless she was getting something out of it and she had most likely been whinging about some other crap instead. Aphrodite on the other hand would meddle for the sheer fun of it. Glory would have to be mindful if she was to save her friend from the jaws of the two headed beast of love and marriage. She was so very furious with Apollo. As Glory was envisioning rescue scenarios a sleek red car pulled up beside her. The window wound down and a familiar voice beckoned her to get in. Against her better judgement she got in to the passenger seat.

  The car’s driver was a god with broad shoulders and a stare so intense he could kill a kitten at twenty paces simply by glancing at it with intent. He was as classically fine-looking as his half-brothers Apollo and Dionysius. Ares looked across at Glory, the bewitching Glory, and both understood and misunderstood her. War and Glory make perfect sense to each other; there had been many crimes in history that they were both complicit in. He understood Glory’s magnificent destructiveness as she did his insatiable lust for cold blood. What he couldn’t comprehend was why she couldn’t see that they should be together.

  “I don’t think your girlfriend would like it much if she knew I was sitting in your front seat” Glory said.

  “In all probability she already knows. She’s also likely to be shagging some random that she picked up in a bar right about now. I doubt she cares. Besides she’s married so she hasn’t got a leg to stand on.” Ares said.

  “Why am I in your car?” she asked, knowing full well that Aphrodite wouldn’t feel that way.

  “There’s a war coming little sister.”

  “Yes I know, The Second Korean War. Liberty emailed you a report. I was definitely cc’d on it so you have got it. Have you checked your junk box?” Glory was trying hard to reign in her sarcasm. Ares caused anger amongst those in his presence and when Glory was mildly angry she got shirty.

  “No a real war: a war in the heavens.”