Robert Vardeman - God of War

“He is… entertaining. Nothing more.”

“I’ve enjoyed his exploits myself. Especially while he was still Ares’s tool-conquering all of Greece? His exploits were the stuff of legends. Then he had to go and ruin it all with that business in your little village temple…”

“We don’t have to dwell on that particular crime, do we, Father?”

Zeus stroked his long beard of braided clouds. “I considered stopping Kratos myself more than once, but I…” His rumbling voice died as he gazed into some invisible distance, lost in contemplation. “It never quite seemed the right time.”

“He’s not the one who needs stopping, Father. And you know it.” As Zeus’s favorite daughter, Athena dared speak with irreverence that might have earned any other god exile from Olympus and a fiery tumble to the earth to dodge thunderbolts for a century or two. But even for his favorite, the Skyfather’s tolerance was limited.

A hint of frown darkened his brow and brought a gray-purple tinge to the clouds of his beard and hair. Distant thunder crackled over Olympus. “Don’t presume to lecture your betters, child.”

Athena took this without so much as a flicker in her level gaze. “Would you crush a puppet because its dance offends?”

“That depends on the puppet.” A hint of fond smile touched the Skyfather’s mouth, and Athena knew the danger had passed. “And, to be sure, on the puppeteer.”

“Has Kratos not provided a consistently pleasurable diversion under my hand?” Athena was now on more certain ground. Boredom was an affliction more feared by the gods than the plague was feared by mortals below. “Do his struggles no longer entertain you?”

“No, he’s wonderful, child. Really.”

“Then why, Father, do you allow my brother Ares to torment him so? Ares is trying to kill him, you know.”

“Yes, yes,” Zeus replied. “But he hasn’t had much success, has he? Kratos has proven… enjoyably durable.”

“The Blades of Chaos grant him power above even his considerable natural gifts. But still, do you find it seemly for your own son to undertake the destruction of your favorite mortal?”

“My favorite?” Zeus again stroked his storm-cloud beard, musing. “Why, I suppose he is. In truth, Kratos can be of use to me. In my name, send him on a mission to Crete to take care of that unpleasantness. He is the perfect one to put right what is going awry. Yes, Kratos can be of service to me right away. Rest easy, Athena. I will speak with the Lord of Battles when next he presents himself before my throne and direct him to cease this persecution. Will that satisfy my most beloved daughter?”

Athena lowered her head demurely, the better to conceal the beginnings of her slim smile. “It is all I can ask, my lord father. I am certain Ares will not risk your displeasure.”

“Are you, now?” Zeus sat straighter on the throne, bringing both hands to his knees as he leaned toward her. “There is something you’re not telling me, my wily little goddess. Some design of yours progresses to your satisfaction. I’ve seen that look before-as when you made me consent to the destruction of Troy if they failed to protect your statue… then you pulled that dirty trick with Odysseus and Diomedes.”

The King of the Gods gave forth a sigh tinged with melancholy. “I loved Troy. Several of my sons-your own half-mortal brothers-perished trying to save that city. I will not be deceived again, child.”

“Deceive you, my lord? How could I hope to?” And why would I need to? she thought. Truth suffices. “Am I not Goddess of Justice as well as Wisdom? And it is justice that I seek here before your throne, beloved father. Kratos has suffered much at my brother’s hands.”

“Justice,” Zeus murmured. “Justice is a chain invented by the weak-”

“-to shackle the strong,” Athena finished with him. “I’ve heard you say so before.” A thousand times, she thought, but kept that disrespectful comment to herself. “It is not Kratos who asks. He has not called upon the gods for aid since that day he begged Ares to save him in the face of the barbarian horde. I ask, Father. Any instant may be his last,” Athena said. She opened her hand toward the golden fountain that burbled beside the throne of Zeus. “Behold.”

The fountain’s spray resolved into an image of the storm-tossed Aegean, littered with the wreckage of countless ships. At the heart of the image, flame and lightning blasted from flashing steel as Kratos used the Blades of Chaos like grapnels to chop into the vast reptilian neck that he climbed relentlessly, pulling himself up to where he could get in some cuts at the head.

“Is that the Hydra?” Zeus said with a faint frown of puzzlement. “Didn’t Hercules strangle that beast years ago? And was it always so huge?”

“This is a new Hydra, freshly born, my lord father. This Hydra is the spawn of Typhon and Echidna-the vast Titans you yourself defeated and imprisoned in the earth far deeper than the reach of even Tartarus. They are the ancestors of every disgusting perversion of nature that my brother inflicts upon Kratos.”

Zeus’s frown of puzzlement darkened toward a scowl of distaste. “Setting that creature on Kratos without my permission smacks of willfulness on the part of your brother, but there is little I can do to help Kratos. The sea is the kingdom of my brother Poseidon. To even so much as strike the creature dead with my thunderbolt would be an insult to his sovereignty-and Poseidon is sensitive about his dignity, as I’m sure you recall.”

“I do, Father. Believe me, I do. But it’s not aid in this particular crisis that I seek. Kratos can handle this creature without your help.”

Zeus’s brow lifted. “Considerable faith you place in his abilities.”

“My lord father, I believe he is nearly indestructible. But I have plans of my own for him, plans that he cannot fulfill if he must constantly fight off my brother’s monstrous legions. I ask only that you forbid Ares any future assaults.”

Zeus sat up straight on the throne, gathering about himself the radiant mantle of kingship. He turned toward the fountain. “Where is Ares now?”

Rainbows in the mist swirled about to show Ares striding across a desert land like a volcano come to life. His hair and beard roiled with ever-burning flame, and the black of his armor darkened the sun. His every step crushed numberless men beneath his blood-soaked sandals as a mortal might tread upon ants.

“Where is he?” Zeus said. “What is he doing in that desolate Egyptian desert?”

“Spreading terror and destruction.”

“No doubt,” Zeus said with an appreciative chuckle. “It is a pity to interrupt his fun.”

The King of Olympus raised his mighty fist and drew in a breath so deep it altered storm patterns throughout the Mediterranean, then unleashed a single word:

“Ares.”

The image of the God of War twitched visibly and then threw a dark look back over one shoulder without replying. He deliberately returned to crushing humans.

“How dare he ignore me?” Zeus drew another breath, this one causing frost to form all around and clouds to pelt the earth with sleet.

“My son, your presence is required upon Olympus.”

Again the God of War twitched but only lowered his head sullenly as though he could not hear.

“You must cease your Hydra’s attack immediately. I have use of the mortal Kratos. Ares? Ares! I will not be ignored when I command you.”

Zeus’s brows drew together, and the clouds of his beard and flowing mane shaded dark as a winter storm. Athena stepped to one side. She had anticipated this moment as surely as an oracle scrying the future hidden to her godly powers, and she didn’t want to get in the way.