By LoreliLee
Warnings:
Disclaimer:
The crescent moon shimmered, a lone island of light in an otherwise dark firmament. The stars were safely ensconced in their daytime sanctuaries. Clouds, small and fluffy, long and thin, floated in the sky. In the heavens, all was still. It was the soft, quiet time, right before the dawn, when even the gods waited for the moment of renewal. Ares, God of War, stood on a hill, waiting for the warriors to move into position. Without making a sound in the stygian darkness, the soldiers bearing his favor would mass on the killing ground to attack. Soon, the vast army would be in position surrounding the enemy.
Now Ares watched as rosy fingers gently waved over the mountains. A pale mauve tint, then a silky pink hue like a lover’s tongue, began to lighten the dark visage of the heavens and coat the clouds with color. Purple streaks like ribbons of candy spun across the brightening sky. A soft, caressing breeze fluttered and ruffled the clouds and the trees. The air was warm and gentle. ‘An odd time for a battle,’ Ares thought. ‘Still, I can only stir them up. The mortals will do as they will.’ He studied the sky one last time; Eos had outdone herself. He preened like the arrogant god he was, thinking of their passionate night together and assuming that he was the cause of the extraordinary spectacle this morning.
He had found Eos the previous night beside a crystalline lake. The moon had just begun to rise, its iridescent shadow reflecting off the water. Eos, as was her occasional wont, danced naked on the shoreline. He had watched for a moment, delighting in the sight of her lithe, nubile body. Then he sauntered over to her, rendering himself naked as well with a wave of his hand. She melted against him, all passion and fire.
She hungrily kissed his lips, then rained kisses along his neck, his shoulders, and down his arms. She raised her face, and he smiled. She pulled him eagerly to the sand and began kissing him again. Her mouth attacked his mouth, then moved down his body. Her lips and tongue explored him ravenously. She was behaving as if she had been deprived of sustenance for too long. She stopped her rapacious exploration briefly to lightly lick and suck his nipples. Then she again began greedily assaulting him, her mouth devouring every inch of him. He moaned with pleasure. It was rare for the little goddess to be such a wanton aggressor. He found that he liked it very much and was willing, for the moment, to let her be in control.
Her passionate attentions were increasing his ardor. She moved between his legs, reaching for his manhood. Gently, she caressed him with her fingers, running her nails up and down his hard shaft. Then she replaced her fingers with her tongue. She licked up and down and around, paying special attention to the very sensitive tip. She licked away the first drop of liquid. He moaned again. She slipped his throbbing organ into her mouth and just held it there, letting him feel the wet warmth. Then she began to move slowly up and down the length of him, licking lightly, applying pressure here and there, but never enough to cause a climatic surge, only enough to tease. He stroked her hair.
She reached further between his legs with her hands to caress his testicles. As she did so, she gently increased the pressure of her mouth and began to move up and down his shaft a little more quickly. Now his pelvis was moving, and she began to suck in earnest, changing the pressure of her mouth, teasing him with the promise of release. He grabbed at her head to regulate her movements. He took control then, setting the pace. She sucked his rigid shaft as hard as she could which only inflamed him further. He gripped her head tightly and began to thrust into her mouth. He quickened his movements, plunging further into her mouth, going deeply down her throat. Her tongue was working up and down his shaft each time he thrust, and the dual sensations were overwhelming. A few thrusts more and a roar tore out of him as he shot his seed into her mouth. She swallowed it greedily. She raised her head and let his now spent manhood free. She smiled happily and licked her lips. "You are so tasty," she said.
A wicked grin was her reward. "And why should you have all the fun?" he asked.
She jumped up, a pleased smile on her lips, and ran into the water. He followed, laughing, grabbed her around the waist, and kissed her hard. Again, her soft body melted against his. The fire of the dawn incited his lust.
He kissed her for a long time, his fingers tangling in her long hair; their bodies pressed together, the water lapping sensuously at their legs. Her mouth tasted of light, sun, and a salty-sweetness he suspected was himself. His lips and tongue explored every inch of her mouth, tasting, feeding, and devouring it. Her body felt soft against his. The passion she ignited in him he re-ignited in her. His hands traveled down the curves of her body, tracing the hollows and bends of her back and her buttocks. He liked it when she moaned against him and rubbed and pressed her firm breasts against his chest.
The little goddess pleased him greatly. For a time, she would help him forget. For a night, instead of being obsessed with his godly duties, he could give himself up to release. He lost himself in the sensuality of arousing her, in the attainment of joy instead of pain, of imparting ecstasy instead of torture, in delivering rapture instead of death.
As they kissed in the water, he could feel himself becoming aroused again, feel her need rise as his hardness pressed against her. He picked her up. Eos was small and insubstantial, like an ethereal feather, truly a goddess of light. He carried her to the soft white sand, his mouth never leaving hers. He laid her down gently, her long brown hair fanned out behind her head, her legs already spread for him. Finally, his mouth left hers. He lay next to her, his fingers tracing the curves of her body. She opened her sapphire eyes and smiled. Her lips parted, waiting for his.
When he didn’t move toward her, but only continued to caress her gently, teasing her body with a promise, she climbed on top of him. He laughed. "What’s gotten into you?" he asked as she reached for his hard organ to guide it inside her.
"I missed you," she murmured. "You’ve stayed away too long!"
He felt the warmth of her as his erect manhood slid all the way inside her. "Hmm," he whispered as she began to move up and down, "I’ll have to remember that."
She stopped moving then and looked at him oddly. Her musical voice was tight when she said, "Ares, do not think you can treat me like you do your mortal women. Just because I missed you does not mean I will allow it."
His mouth widened in a seductive smile. His hands gripped her hips as he said, "I do not treat you like I do them and you know it. Stop acting like a jealous mortal and behave like the goddess I know you are."
Eos laughed, thinking she had made her point. "Just remember, I am the goddess whom lovers sometimes worship. Dawn brings midnight lovers a renewal of their erotic passions."
His hands moved from her hips to caress her breasts. "Erotic passions," he repeated in a soft voice. "Well, if that’s what you want, then I am most definitely the right god." Using his powerful arms, he quickly reversed their positions. Now she was captured beneath him, and he was in control.
He took possession of her. His body, three times her size and five times more powerful, strove to master her, to own her completely. He focused his whole being on the act of bringing pleasure through domination. Each powerful thrust inside her, each caress of his hands, each passion-filled kiss was his way of marking her as his. He knew that his passion to dominate her thrilled her. He knew she craved his ownership as much as he desired it. The God of War did not care for much, but what was his was his and stayed his.
Now, as Eos’ splendid colors began to fade and Helios moved higher in the sky, the God of War shook the pleasant interlude from his mind. He stood tall on the high hill overlooking the green valley. When the warriors looked up, they would see him. For those with his favor, he was a good omen. For those arrayed against him, a death warrant.
The tall, dark, powerful, black leather clad god watched the battle with intense concentration. The wind ruffled his long, dark hair and caressed his bare arms. The sun sparkled off the large sword sheathed at his waist. His handsome face glowed with an ecstasy not unlike orgasm, as in the valley below he observed the fighting. He sensed the movement of each warrior, the clash of swords, the screams of the wounded. He savored the rage as sword and daggers, axes and arrows pierced flesh. Acknowledged with the inclination of his head the sound of his own name, a curse, a plea, an exultation, and a death howl. Each death affected him; his body felt the impact of weapon upon flesh, the blood gushing. The final moments of death gave him a feeling of supremacy.
Gregor was doing well. His army, Ares’ army, cut a bloody swath through the center of Helasious’ forces. It wouldn’t be too much longer. Yes. Now. Gregor had reached Helasious. The God of War watched as Gregor, without mercy, without compassion, took his sword and decapitated his foe. Gregor’s face lit with a beatific expression as Helasious’ blood flowed over him. The battle was over, or it should have been. Instead, Gregor and his men, having tasted blood, hungered for more.
Ares found their bloodlust dazzling. Their rage and vengeance answered a need in him embedded so deeply in his consciousness that he could only accept it as tribute. Their appetite for blood fed him in a way nothing else ever could. He savored the carnage, the screams, as Gregor and his men, so overtaken with a violent frenzy that fed upon itself, cut down the surrendering soldiers. He watched as the enraged warriors severed arms and legs and decapitated opponents as they begged for mercy, begged for their lives. He felt the power of their rage, and it fed the essence within him. He knew that they were out of control but did nothing to stop it, couldn’t stop it if he’d wanted to, which he didn’t. It was, after all, his job to encourage the mortals to weed out the weak and incompetent, to kill all those not strong enough to survive.
He watched as the valley ran red with blood. He watched until there was nothing left to see but a field of war strewn with the dying. Gregor and his army, with victorious shouts, departed the battlefield. He knew they would go to the nearest village to satisfy their other lusts. They would surrender to passions other than hate and anger, a need now for something sweeter than blood. He could not satisfy these lusts for them.
When there was nothing left on the killing ground but the dead, Ares swaggered down the hill to walk among them. He knew that he would find his uncle there.
Hades stared disgustedly at the vast carnage that awaited him. The God of the Underworld’s expression upon noticing his nephew changed to surprise tinged with distaste. "What do you want?" Hades asked.
Ares smiled disarmingly. He raised one eyebrow and asked sarcastically, "Is that any way to talk to your best supplier?"
Hades shook his head. "You have a tendency to go overboard in filling the coffers of the dead."
"Me?" the God of War replied with a shrug. "I didn’t do a thing. I just watched."
Hades’ blue eyes filled with anger. "You may not have had a physical hand in this, but you know as well as I, it’s a direct result of your handiwork."
Ares grinned evilly. "Just doing my job."
"Your job?" Hades muttered in an undertone. He began to touch the bodies of the dead, releasing their souls to begin the long journey to the underworld. Still, his nephew stood there, watching him with calculating, hooded eyes. "Ares," Hades asked again, "what do you want?"
Ares studied his uncle. Of all the family, after Aphrodite, Hades seemed to dislike him least. Whether this was because they had little direct contact or because their jobs were inextricably entwined, he didn’t know. Still, when the idea had come to him, he knew the one to ask was Hades. Only now that the moment was at hand, he found it impossible to broach the subject. Instead he asked, "Why do you think I want anything?"
Now Hades studied his nephew. He was aware, far more than the other gods were, how much their intense loathing of him bothered Ares. He was also aware that deep inside the arrogant and hostile God of War, there lurked a heart. A heart, which all the other gods, with the exception of Aphrodite, ignored. It was clear to him that his nephew wanted something, and equally clear that he could not find the words to ask it. He wished he knew a way to make it easier for him, but there was none. Finally, having now released all the souls of the soldiers, Hades turned to leave. "Ares," he said slowly, "whatever it is you want, you’ll have to tell me now."
Ares shook his head. He would not be able to ask the stern blue-eyed god who seemed a pale imitation of his father anything. The moment had come and gone. He would have to try to find another way. Cursing himself as a fool, the God of War vanished.
Hades shook his head and went to tend to his charges, waiting now to be sent to either the Elysian fields or Tartarus, courtesy of the God of War.
Sienna was astonished when Ares materialized by the altar in his temple in Parnasis. She had made an offering and a petition, but she did not expect him to answer so quickly. Though vowed to serve him since eighteen, she had rarely seen him in the two years since her mother had died. She knew that as Queen she owed him nothing. Her service to him was voluntary. She wondered, as she often did when she saw him watching her through hooded eyes, what it was he saw.
When she was sixteen, her best friend, Hanna, had become one of Ares’ Chosen Ones. The God of War had given Hanna a silver armband and taken her away for two days. When Hanna returned to the tribe, she was different. There was a glow about her and a look as if she had been given some secret knowledge. Sienna was jealous and afraid her place as heir would be usurped. Her mother, Kalea, had assured her it had nothing to do with her future and not to worry. Still, it had always bothered her that though Ares seemed to initiate many of her tribe into the mysteries of the flesh, he left her strictly alone. She knew she was attractive, knew she stirred passion in most men she met, as she had in the man whose child she now carried. A child she was sure would be a girl, her heir.
She smiled in remembrance of what she now thought of as the perfect Amazonian conception. She was swimming in the cool water of the river. Her son was old enough to be weaned, and she wanted, needed, another child. A daughter, an heir. Her time of conception was upon her and she was trying to decide how best to achieve this. She had finally concluded that she would again have to depend upon some man from Parnasis. She dove under the water, then surfaced to see, standing on the riverbank, a tall blond man so impossibly beautiful that she immediately wanted him. He was dressed in brown leather pants and a green vest, and as he saw her, he smiled. His eyes were the greenest she had ever seen.
She dove back under the water, sure she had imagined him. He could not possibly have appeared in answer to her need. When she again surfaced, he was still standing there, watching her swim, a smile on his lips. His eyes watched her hungrily; she could almost feel his need for her, a palpable presence in the air.
Slowly, she walked out of the river, reveling in her nakedness. Her movements were a challenge and an invitation. Without another thought except that of urgency, she went to him. She stood before him, her long dark hair soaking wet, her blue eyes wide, her entire body dripping with water, her lips parted in invitation. His eyes raked her naked body with appreciation, then without saying a word; he reached for her. She went into his arms. Soon the Amazon and man became one on the riverbank, creating the child she now carried. They had never spoken a word beyond the moans and phrases of sex. She did not know his name and had not seen him in the two moon-cycles since their encounter. Still, as she felt the child grow inside her, she was pleased.
Ares gazed at the Amazon, his unacknowledged daughter. He knew her present thoughts. Her erotic memory was arousing her, which amused him. Out of the hundreds of Amazons he had fathered, very few had ever earned his respect. Sienna had. He had been fond of her mother and was quite pleased with they way Sienna ran the tribe. His worship had grown; soon more would serve him than Artemis. That pleased him very much. The Parnasis tribe was strong, excellent warriors and even better allies.
He knew what she wanted and was actually prepared to give it to her. Still Ares, being Ares, he would not make it easy. Her offering had surprised him. Her mother never bothered to make one. She asked firmly for what she wanted and expected him to give it. He smiled as he remembered just how Sienna had been conceived. ‘Ah, Kalea,’ he thought. ‘You were a most unusual woman.’ He was surprised to discover that he missed her.
The god and queen stared at one another for a long moment; each lost in their thoughts. Finally, Sienna bent her knees and said, "My lord, how may I serve you?"
"I believe you requested that I serve you," he replied sardonically. He bade her rise from her knees. He moved from the altar and added, "Come. Sit with me in the garden and tell me what you wish."
Sienna followed him out of the back door of the temple into an exquisite garden. There were hundreds of blooming flowers of all kinds. "I had no idea this was here," she said with wonder.
"And you find it strange," he asked with amusement as he led her to a small stone bench," that I should wish to surround myself with beauty?"
She sat on the bench and studied the God of War. He was exceedingly attractive with long, dark hair, deep, dark eyes, and a full sensual mouth. His body was lean, muscular, powerful. She knew, from the other Amazons, that he was skilled in all the arts of lovemaking. Still, just as he left her alone, so too his striking good looks truly did not attract her. She knew her mother had shared a relationship of some sort with him, suspected that it went beyond the bounds of queen and godly advisor, had wondered on occasion if he might be her father. As she looked at him, studying her, she knew suddenly and without a doubt that he was. The knowledge explained much and gave her strength. She knew if she betrayed that kernel of knowledge to him, he would be angry. She would keep their secret, although it pleased her greatly. "My lord," she said slowly, "I must go to war in two days. I have tried to avoid it, but it will not be possible."
He nodded. He knew that Gregor, against his wishes and flushed with glory from his battle with Helasious, planned to take on the Amazons of Parnasis, knew that Gregor wanted to capture them and sell them as slaves. There was little beyond killing Gregor he could do to stop it, and killing Gregor was not an option. He knew that would only delay the inevitable. Eventually, Sienna would have to fight; the Amazons would have to prove they could defend themselves or else they would always be targets.
She watched his eyes. She saw his understanding and something she could not quite read. She said, "I know we must fight. And I know we can win. But I also know that as little as two days ago, Gregor fought Helasious under your aegis. As your servant, Lord Ares, I cannot fight against you. But how can we go to war to defend ourselves if the Queen cannot lead?"
Again, he nodded, studying Sienna. She really was quite beautiful; the mix of his features and her mother’s had added a spice of dangerous ferocity to her round face. He had felt her thoughts, knew she had guessed only a moment ago their true relationship and was pleased that she had not acknowledged it, pleased that she had not attempted to trade on it, pleased that she was pleased he was her father. Still, he said nothing. She knew the rules as well as he; she had to ask.
She took a deep breath. "My lord, I need you to release me from my vow. I must lead my tribe else risk losing my Queenship. But, more than that, they need my leadership to survive the battle."
He asked softly, "And if I do not choose to release you?"
She stared at him, her blue eyes wide. "Why would you not? Do you wish Gregor to conquer us? To sell us into slavery? I do not understand. Mother said you liked Amazons."
"Kalea?" he smiled in memory, and his face softened for a moment. Then his handsome face grew stern, foreboding, "I do not wish to release you. And I do not have to."
"Then you wish me to forfeit my throne?" she asked in confusion.
"That will not happen." He put his hand over hers. "I have withdrawn my aegis from Gregor. He comes to attack you without my favor, without my permission. So you see, you do not need to worry about fighting against me. We are on the same side."
She expelled the breath she had not even realized she was holding. "Then you will help us?"
He shook his head. "I cannot help. But I can make sure his army knows which side I am on."
Sienna took his hand and kissed his ring. "Thank you, my lord. That is all I could wish and more."
He pulled his hand away and studied her face. He knew she would win the battle, but at what cost? "Sienna, go back to the village. Let them know what we discussed."
She nodded and rose from the bench. "Yes, my lord."
Ares watched her go. Yes, he was proud of her. Kalea had done well by him. It made what he knew he had to do that much harder. Still, he had to do it. With a thought, he was suddenly elsewhere.
Sienna watched the dancers as they whirled around the roaring bonfire. The sky was full of stars and the moon shimmered. She could tell from the position of the great bear that dawn was not far away.
The three dancers, in full battle regalia, were bobbing and weaving, flinging themselves round the fire to the steady beat of the drums. The other Amazons, in armor and face paint, were chanting, pounding their feet, clapping their hands. Sienna could feel their stirred up emotions, the anger and passion building inside them. Soon, they would be ready. Soon, she would lead her tribe to battle. They would take Gregor’s army and smash it. She would make sure to protect the way of life they loved.
She turned from the spectacle and went to her hut to put on her armor, her mother’s armor. She fingered the brass breastplate for a moment before she put it on. She wondered where Kalea had gotten it, knew somehow that it would protect her. She laced her fingers protectively over her belly. She would protect the child, too. Still, an heir would be meaningless if there was no tribe left for her to rule.
She glanced down at the crib where her son lay sleeping. He was nearly two years old and a product of her last visit to Parnasis. She knew she would eventually have to send him there to be fostered. She would miss him, but it would be better for him to grow up there. Even she admitted that the men in Parnasis were not so bad. His father had been attractive in a rough, farmhand kind of way. She spared a thought for the man who had given her the child that she now carried. This one would be a girl. She was sure of it. She bent and kissed her sleeping son’s brow, wondering how he could sleep through the noise.
She could hear the warriors shouting now. They were ready. She left her hut to join them. She watched the dancing for another few moments, and then at a signal from her, the drums stopped. The dancers, the pounding, the clapping, stopped. Sienna stood in front of the fire, drawing the attention of her tribe. All looked to her, and she knew it was time.
She picked eight warriors to accompany her and instructed the rest to follow shortly thereafter. She had a very good idea where Gregor and his men were camping. She and her small group of sisters were going to attempt to even the odds.
Sienna found, as she expected, Gregor’s army camped in a forest clearing near the water. While the grove appeared to anyone not familiar with it as safe, closer examination revealed the truth. There was only one way in and one way out that did not involve a boat or a thick forest. The clearing was surrounded on three sides by trees and forest and on the fourth by water. A forest the Amazons knew and loved better than any of the men could know. Gregor did not expect to fight there, but Sienna did. Gregor had trapped himself without even realizing it, giving the Amazons the advantage. Clearly, he had no idea who he was fighting.
Sienna told Jacin to have half the Amazon warriors take to the trees and the other half wait at the edge of the grove, just out of sight of the camp. Jacin nodded and left. The small cadre of Amazons would try, as the darkness stayed in the heavens, to take some of the men out now, to boost their chances of victory before dawn rose and the light evened the odds.
Sienna studied the camp for a moment. The men were spread out in a large circle. In the center of the camp, a fire burned in front of a huge tent. She assumed that Gregor was ensconced inside. ‘He’s a coward,’ she thought. ‘He’s got his men positioned around him, protecting him, the water at his back. What a fool.’
The eight Amazons split up to work the perimeter of the camp. More familiar with the area than the men, the darkness didn’t bother them; it sharpened their senses. Quietly, with long knives in their hands, the warriors took a path around the camp, finding a sleeping man and slitting his throat. There was no remorse, no regret, and no second thoughts as sharp knives sliced through living flesh severing arteries, killing silently. The soldiers were planning to do the same to them, in fact, to their minds, far worse. They would sell them into slavery, a fate worse than death to an Amazon. No honor lay in servitude; at least in battle there was honor. The army was large, larger even than Sienna had thought. They could not possibly hope to get them all before they were noticed. Still the eight silent killers got quite a few before Hanna was caught.
As soon as the alarm went up, the seven who were still free flew into the trees and escaped. Though it was against all their principles to let one Amazon be captured without attempting to save her, they had all agreed that this time it would have to be that way. Sienna knew she could not save her friend, knew it was a risk they all took. She was sad that Hanna had been captured, but she hoped, since Hanna was one of Ares’ Chosen, Gregor might see the armband and spare her life. Or at least make her death a quick one.
Sienna came down from the trees and met the rest of her sisters at the edge of the grove. The other warriors were waiting. She nodded to them and looked up at the sky. ‘Dawn should have risen by now,’ she thought. The sky was still dark, the moon silver in the midnight black. The stars had only moved a little, the great bear should have been farther along in its journey. She knew by the look of the sky, the feel of her bones, and the twitching in her fingers, that something was very wrong.
"Ares," Eos said softly, "I have to go."
The God of War, his plan well underway, smiled seductively at the little goddess of the dawn. Eos lay beneath him as she had for most of the night, captured by his powerful body. His hands caressed her breasts; his fingers teased a nipple into hardness. She moaned softly. "Haven’t you had enough?" she asked lightly.
He laughed wickedly. "Have you?"
The little goddess whispered, "I can never get enough of you." Her fingers tangled in his long, dark hair, pulling him close for a kiss. She kissed him for a moment, then pulled her lips away. "I have to go. It’s time for . . ."
She would never finish that sentence. Ares’ mouth again captured hers. He silenced her with passionate kisses, his hands roaming her body, arousing her into forgetting her duties.
Gregor sat impatiently waiting inside his tent. His second in command entered, shook his head, and left. Gregor was superstitious. The first time he commanded an army, he had fought at dawn and been victorious. Now, he fought all his battles at dawn, and he always won. ‘I will wait,’ he thought stubbornly. He refused to be worried about losing. Dawn was his ally; he must wait for it. Even knowing that some Amazons had already killed twenty of his men did not move him. He would wait and then attack the village. It never occurred to him, despite the Amazons’ pre-emptive strike, that they would not wait for him, that they would be smart enough, brave enough, reckless enough to attack where he camped. Like most men, he made the fatal mistake of underestimating them.
He exited his tent to see how his men were doing with the captured Amazon. They had strung her up on a pole, and he could see where the men had hit and cut her. Her face was purple with bruises. They had striped her of her weapons and clothes, with the lone exception of a silver armband they swore they could not remove. He went closer to her to examine it. The armband glowed dully in the firelight, a mark of favor from the God of War. ‘She must be one of his,’ he thought. That explained why no matter what his men did, she said nothing, did not even admit that she was in pain.
He shook his head. He did not understand why Ares had revoked his aegis, did not understand why the God of War wanted him to leave the Amazons alone. He knew Ares favored the tribe; clearly here was one of his Amazon whores, but still . . . They were only women after all. Not as important as the men who served him. Men who needed money to eat, to buy weapons, money they could get by selling captured Amazons. Well, it didn’t matter; he would fight with or without Ares blessing. Turning away from his men, he went back into his tent to wait for the dawn.
Sienna wondered where the God of War was and why dawn did not come. She knew she dared not delay any longer. The Amazons best chance at success was to take the army now. With a powerful and fierce yell, Sienna and her Amazons went to conquer Gregor’s army.
Gregor’s men were not ready. The Amazons in armor and full battle regalia surrounded his camp and attacked his unprepared soldiers. The Amazons were angry and highly motivated. They fought fiercely, Sienna fiercest of all. As she began with her sword to disarm and disable, she felt the rage build within her. She knew anger and rage in battle could be dangerous but they could also be powerful allies. Allies she intended to use.
She felt the rage like a small seed take root in her being. Felt a hot, young tendril spread its arms and sprout more tendrils. The rage was like a living, breathing thing. It spread through her whole body, engulfing her with its strength, its power. She let it overtake her, felt her body glow with it. She fed the sprouting tree that was her rage, willing its power to spread to her sisters, her actions to incite theirs. Full of a bloodlust inherited from her father and to a lesser degree from her mother, she gave a great yell and violently and viciously began to kill every man in her path.
She felt as if the darkness and the rage had sharpened all her senses. Her night vision seemed clearer, her hearing sharper, her abilities heightened. She saw Hanna tied to the pole and was determined to save her. She slashed and cut her way ruthlessly though Gregor’s men.
The first wave of Amazons had done well, but now Gregor’s army was aroused. With a loud whistle, Sienna called down the second wave of warriors from the trees. She could hear the war cries from her sisters, the shouts of surprise from the men, and the screams of the dying. Valiantly, the Amazons fought, and as she knew they could, they were winning.
Sienna and two others made it to where Hanna was being held. The three warriors, with renewed vigor, attacked the men surrounding Hanna. As soon as the last man was dead, Sienna went to her friend and cut her loose. Hanna, nearly dead, fell into her arms. Tenderly, Sienna laid her fallen warrior on the ground.
Gregor had been hiding in his tent. He was smart enough to know his men would lose, but not smart enough to run. When he heard the war cries getting closer, he strapped on his armor and sword and came out of his tent. He saw Sienna and recognized her as Queen. There might still be a way for him to win this yet! While Sienna had her back to him, he went for his sword and prepared to stab her in the back.
She heard him coming with her sharpened senses and turned at the last moment. She evaded what should have been a fatal wound. Instead of killing her, Gregor’s sword went into her left shoulder. He pulled it out and watched as the blood poured from the wound. He prepared to strike her again.
"You coward," she shouted. Her sword was in her right hand. She faced him, ignoring the blood, ignoring the pain. Her rage was at a fever pitch. She went on the attack. Her sword met his before he could touch her again. Their swords met, clashed, dropped back, then met again. The sounds of the battle raging around them receded from Sienna’s mind. With a single-mindedness that did her father proud, she concentrated on the task at hand.
She would kill the warlord who dared to threaten her tribe. Kill the pig that had hurt Hanna. As the two clashed with swords, the battle around them began to end. Out of the corner of her eye, Sienna could see the men begin to run and retreat. Still she fought.
Gregor, believing the woman in front of him was no match, kept pace with her sword thrusts. He could hear his men running in fear and horror, see the carnage the Amazons had created. Still, he felt that if he could just kill the bitch in front of him, he could snatch victory from the defeat. He believed he had the advantage. The woman’s wound was still bleeding. He almost had to admire the way she continued to fight him. There was no doubt she was good, no doubt, she was strong, but he knew she had to be in pain and that, eventually, she would wear down.
Sienna knew she had to end this soon. She could see the other Amazons beginning to surround them. Within minutes, if she did not kill Gregor, one of her sisters would. It was her right! She steeled herself to ignore the throbbing in her shoulder. Finally, she spotted an opening. She kicked Gregor in the knee. He jumped back, dropping his guard. With a quick move to her right, she had her sword at his throat. With no remorse, no second thought, she did exactly as he had done a few days earlier and decapitated her enemy. It was over. Sienna dropped her bloody sword. The pain in her shoulder was intense. She heard the victorious cries of her sisters as she collapsed on the ground.
"Ares," Eos said lazily from underneath him, "I really must go. I’m already later than I should be. Helios is going to be angry."
The God of War smiled at the little goddess. ‘Yes,’ he thought, ‘I’ve delayed her long enough.’ He rolled off Eos, kissed her lightly on the forehead, and nodded his assent. With a thought, Eos disappeared to take her chariot and bring the dawn. Ares rose from the bed, and with a wave of his hand, made an image appear. The Amazons of Parnasis appeared to have been victorious. He had known they would be. Still, what was the cost? He looked at the battlefield closely. Where was Sienna? He saw her, prone on the ground, bleeding. With a thought, he dressed and then seconds later, appeared in the grove.
He heard the gasps of the startled Amazons as he appeared. With his arrival, the sky finally began to change from midnight black to dawn. He glanced up at the sky. Eos was giving them quite a show, despite the lateness of her rising. Every shade and tint from palest rose to deepest purple glowed across the sky.
He went to his daughter. She looked up at him, surprise in her eyes. He bent down and gently touched her forehead. He looked at her wound. It would not be fatal.
"You’re late," Sienna murmured, sounding so much like her mother that he had to laugh.
"It seems you didn’t need me after all," he replied as he rose to his feet. He saw Hanna lying dead next to Sienna. He went to the fallen Amazon and closed her now sightless eyes. He bent and touched his lips to her cold forehead. She had served him well. It was a shame she had to die. Still, he would and had gladly traded her life and others for his daughter and the child she carried. His child and the next Queen of the tribe.
He turned from the dead Amazon to look again at his daughter. He knew she would be appalled if she knew the truth. He had disguised himself as another man and had sex with her. She was not nearly as talented as her mother had been, but the encounter had been very pleasant. Like her mother before her, she needed a female heir. He could never understand the mortal concerns about incest. The very word seemed to strike terror into their souls. Yet, if the gods had concerned themselves with the concept, there would have been no world. There would have been no him, for he, too, was a product of incest. He shook his head at the mortals’ silly fears and superstitions.
He watched as a healer worked on Sienna. The healer tended to her wound, stopping the blood flow and binding it up. Sienna rose to her feet. He watched as Helios rose up, replacing Eos’ pastel colors with bright yellowish light. Soon the Amazons were gone, taking their wounded and dead back to the village. Now he stood alone with deceased warriors.
He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, relieved that his plan had worked. When he opened them, he found his uncle staring at him with undisguised curiosity.
"What are you doing here?" Hades asked.
Ares smiled innocently. "The Amazons of Parnasis are mine. I was checking on the battle."
Hades studied his nephew. "Eos was terribly late this morning. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?"
"Can I help it if I’m irresistible?" the God of War retorted with a wicked grin.
Hades gave his nephew a disgusted look. He glanced down at a list in his hand, glanced around the battlefield, then looked back at his nephew. "There seems to be someone missing."
Ares gestured at the large number of dead men surrounding them. "How can you tell? Seems like you have a lot of new customers to me."
Hades said, "According to the Fates, there should be at least one more Amazon, a pregnant one at that."
"Really?" Ares quirked one eyebrow. "Since when do you concern yourself with Amazons?"
"Normally, I wouldn’t," Hades replied. "But this one was supposed to have died here at dawn by the hand of your favorite, Gregor."
Ares shrugged and gestured at the air around them. "I believe Gregor’s over there somewhere. He ceased being my favorite when he decide to attack a tribe that belongs to me."
Hades eyed Ares speculatively. "Gregor was not on the list. How did you arrange that?"
"Me?" Ares shook his head. "I had nothing to do with his death. I wasn’t even here."
"And neither apparently was dawn," Hades murmured thoughtfully. Suddenly, it all made sense. Why Ares had come to him at the battlefield of Helasious. What he had wanted to ask. How he had figured out another way. By the gods, sometimes his nephew was too clever for his own good. Hades said, "You know, if the Fates or Zeus figure out what you did . . ."
Ares dark eyes flashed a warning. "I have no idea what you are talking about."
Hades nodded and went to work on releasing the souls of the dead. The God of War watched his uncle for a moment, then vanished. Hades was secretly pleased that Ares had opened his heart enough to risk the wrath of the Fates and his father and would keep his nephew’s secret. As Helios glowed in the sky, the God of the Underworld finished his work.
Six months later, appropriately enough at dawn, Ares watched through his looking glass as Sienna gave birth to her heir. A little girl she named Bresia.
Author’s Note: According to Greek myth and legend, Eos, goddess of the dawn, is the sister of Helios. It was said she rose from her couch at the close of every night and mounted her chariot for Olympus where she would announce with rosy fingers the coming of her brother. The legend of the relationship between Eos and Ares involved Aphrodite as well. According to the myth, Aphrodite found Ares in Eos’ bed and was so jealous and angry that she cursed the goddess with a constant longing for young mortals. The myth doesn’t say how Ares responded to that. For the purposes of this story, I assumed that Aphrodite hadn’t cursed Eos yet, since Ares does not like sharing. As to the issue of incest, that is clear enough all through the Greek myths. Zeus and Hera were brother and sister as well as husband and wife; therefore Ares is a product of incest. In addition, there was his long running relationship with his sister Aphrodite that produced three children. Since clearly he wasn’t afraid to have children with his own sister, it didn’t seem too farfetched to believe he’d be willing to have one with his own daughter.