Authors: Donna Milward
Aphrodite's War
by Donna Milward
Copyright 2013 Donna Milward
Cover Design: Terra Koster, KMS Design
Edited: Sara Johnson
Heather Savage
Staccato Publishing
First Edition: September 2013
ISBN: 978-0-9949702-2-0
living or dead, is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
I would like to dedicate this novel to the following people: Sensei
Stephanie Bozzer, Joseph Kim and Dan Gyoba.
I will forever cherish the lessons I learned from each of you. Thanks for
working so hard with me. You taught me discipline and pride among
other things. It was an honor to train with you, and I will remember my
time with you for as long as I live.
“You shall wear a trench in the marble,” Ares said. Aphrodite glared
over her shoulder at him in contempt and continued to pace.
“I am sick of hearing you say that.”
“Then perhaps you should stop doing it. I grow weary of your
posturing.”
Aphrodite rolled her eyes. It had been decades since they had
anything interesting to say to each other. The turn of the century saw
them resort to petty bickering, not unlike a mortal married couple too
afraid of change to leave a union of misery.
walk away.
But it was not an option. This was the only place she called her own.
She stared past the vine-wrapped stone pillars of the pantheon to the
Earth below. Aphrodite shivered in this fabricated hell she had willingly
traded for the eternal beauty of Eden so that she could harness the
emotions of humans and become a goddess. What a tragic folly.
Aphrodite cast another glance at the lean and tanned Ares lounging on
his throne of bloodstone. He stroked his beard like a conceited cat. She
loved him once, left Hephaestus for him.
ghost, forever bored and lonely.
“You are jealous because I have more power than you.” Ares stretched
forward, sneering. “I always have. Nothing has changed.”
“That is false,” she said. “Everyone believes in love. No one wishes
for conflict.”
Ares threw both arms in the air, exasperated. “Yes, I know. All
mankind wants world peace.” He held out his hand and one of many
nymphs crept to his side with a full goblet. “But this realm has never
known true rest,” Ares spoke and considered his wine. He drained most
of the cup and waved it around, sloshing leftover wine dregs like
splatters of gore. “If you added all the years without war on this planet, it
would not amount to a single decade.”
Aphrodite shrugged. “Humans have delicate tempers.” She peered out
to the green and blue vista below Mount Olympus, breathed deep the ripe
scent of olive trees. “It requires little talent or skill to set them against
each other.”
The comment had the desired effect. Out of her peripheral vision she
saw Ares stiffen. His rage washed over her with such force she braced
herself on a pillar.
Not that she feared him. Causing Ares aggravation pleasured her, one
of few satisfying amusements. She suppressed her laughter, but it
mattered not at all. He was well aware of her disdain. It was hard to keep
feelings to oneself when everyone around her could exchange thoughts.
me?”
Aphrodite faced him, almost shocked by the ugliness in his
expression. Veins appeared like cracks in his skull and his brown eyes
became black pits. Saliva dripped from his cruel mouth.
“Humans do not need you to teach them to fuck.”
A crowd gathered. She heard the babble, both spoken and unvoiced.
Not this again.
Third time this year alone.
They never tire of it.
Wish they would both be silent.
clouds building before Zeus appeared between her and her old lover.
“Enough, both of you,” His roar filled the room. “You need to cease
this constant nattering at each other.” Zeus ran his hand down his rich
chestnut beard, stroking the curls.
Aphrodite gauged his temperament. Zeus’ anger simmered. True, she
and Ares had been at each other’s throats for a few decades, but the
confidence she once admired had become smarmy arrogance. She
considered it her duty to remind him of his inadequacies, lest Ares
become insufferable.
Zeus pinched the bridge of his nose. “A noble idea, Aphrodite, but it
is unpleasant to listen to. Everyone here…” He motioned behind him
with a heavily muscled arm. “…is sick to the teeth of the noise.”
ivy.
“She started it,” Ares blushed, seeming to realize how childish he
sounded. His gaze dropped to the floor. “She goads me to occupy her
time.”
Aphrodite opened her mouth to protest, closed it again. She must
admit, the endless tedium of her existence caused her moodiness. And
Ares provided a convenient target for her frustration. She had come to
this dimension because of him, and for that he should suffer.
Zeus’ stormy blue eyes flashed. Lightning blinked over the throng and
thunder shook the ground. The smell of ozone wafted to Aphrodite’s
nose. “It must stop.”
will leave Olympus.”
“What?” Ares said, dropping his goblet.
“Are you mad?” Aphrodite asked. Her hands became imploring claws.
“This is my home.”
Ares sneered at her. “Mine as well.”
“Nevertheless, one of you has to go. Our sanctuary must have quiet,”
Zeus stepped away from the quarrel to face the assembly. “Ideas,
anyone?”
weighed in. One opinion rang out over the din of the mob.
“A contest!” The voice belonged to Artemis. Aphrodite’s heart sank.
Leave it to the huntress to suggest such a concept. “Winner stays on
Olympus, loser departs.”
used to find that desirable. Now it was to her disadvantage.
“But what kind of contest?” Zeus asked.
“I believe that one is obvious.” The slurred statement came from
Dionysus as he made his crooked way forward. Judging from the alcohol
and vomit stench of his last belch, Dionysus and his worshippers started
devotionals early.
“She is the goddess of love.” The god of wine and ecstasy spilled
dribbles on his violet robes, the floor, and his entourage as he gestured.
“Let her do what she does best. She always goes on about how love is the
strongest force on Earth.”
“And he always tells her love leads to hate,” Artemis said, her silver
eyes dull with apathy. “That it is easier for humans to fight than to
choose friendship, affection, or goodwill.”
Several gods and goddesses nodded and applauded. They all
remembered the fights between Ares and Aphrodite over the years. The
topic remained the same.
Zeus pursed his lips. Aphrodite noted by the way he fingered the
twists in his facial hair that he liked the idea. As did she. Aphrodite never
doubted herself, not with love. Ares could do whatever he wanted. She
never failed. She could almost taste the sweet victory like honey on her
tongue.
“I accept the challenge,” she said. Ares eyebrows lifted high, lending
him a comical vulnerability. “I anticipate having something new to do for
a change.”
And she would defeat him. She pictured herself roaming the lush
gardens of Olympus, dancing between the vine-covered marble
monoliths…without the lewd and brash presence of the war god tainting
its loveliness.
She studied the sharp angles of his handsome visage before staring
Ares in his raven-dark eyes. She wanted to remember this precise
moment. Soon he would be gone. She may never have to see him again.
“You can do your worst.”
“Then it is settled.” Zeus rubbed his hands together. A static charge of
blue light shimmered between his fingers. “We need to establish ground
rules. Everyone, be seated.”
Ares went back to his throne and Aphrodite reluctantly sat in hers. She
appreciated the splendor of the mother-of-pearl and sea shell inlays on
her chair, but it was placed next to him. That meant enduring a whiff of
his rank musk whenever the breeze blew north.
Sure enough, once settled, Ares exuded the odor of sweat and alcohol.
Aphrodite stopped stroking the scallop shells of her armrests and brought
her hand to her mouth and nose.
that spot.
Ares put both hands behind his head and smirked. Aphrodite refused
to react to the overwhelming smell. Why encourage him?
“We need a location.” Zeus waved a hand and a map of Earth
appeared in the center of the room, hanging like a translucent tapestry.
“The duel will take place in the New World.”
The visual focused on the landscape of North America with lush fields
of wheat, corn, and canola. Flat plains gave way to craggy mountains.
Occasionally, a city or village interrupted the open spaces.
The New World? That sparse wasteland of technology and
materialism? Aphrodite uttered an unfeminine oath. The Mediterranean,
or even Europe, would have been preferable. There the humans revered
her in art and books. Many still lived by the old ways.
revolution made Ares strong. For that she was grateful.
The New World had no use for either her or Ares. They were too busy
chasing wealth and power to fall in love or fight.
Understanding dawned.
“A wise choice, mighty Zeus,” she said with a demure smile.
agreed on something, Aphrodite thought.
“I give you all of North America to choose,” Zeus said, presenting the
image between his massive hands like an offering. “Aphrodite, you select
first.”
her lineage and her love of cultures new and old.
“Her,” Aphrodite said. She waved away the map and placed in its
stead a visual of her chosen champion. “I choose this human.”
Before them hovered the image of a young woman in her twenties.
She wore her glossy black hair long but bluntly sheared. Streaks of pink
and blue burst through her bangs. Her twinkling brown eyes were lined
with kohl. Her skin shone a light shade of olive, healthy from within and
etched with ink. Mythological creatures merged with tiger lilies,
hibiscus, and roses. Silver jewelry decorated her ears and throat. A single
diamond perched on her cheek like a teardrop.
his brow. “Hardly the epitome of femininity. Are you certain?”
“Your vanity is greater than your will to win.” Ares chuckled, a sickly
imitation of merriment. “This mortal wears Aphrodite’s likeness across
her back. Not to mention ‘Aphrodite’ is her second name.”
Aphrodite narrowed her gaze at him. “Those are not the sole reasons.”
She faced Zeus. “This one has a Greek father. Her parents teach classic
literature. They have a deep love of all the legends of our time, as well as
each other. Good breeding and intelligence are more attractive than
appearances.”
newly single.”
She folded her arms and tilted her chin at Ares. “Your turn.” Sarcasm
oozed from her lips. “Lover.”
CHAPTER TWO
Poetry heaved her sack of tools across the threshold of her apartment
and relaxed. She stretched her aching back as she sauntered into the
kitchen, nearly tripping over sneakers, Doc Martens, and stilettos
overflowing from the foyer.
Poetry dropped her gaze to the pitch-black cotton ball staring at her
from the floor with his innocent cobalt eyes.
“Hey, Amir,” she said. The sight of him always made her swoon. She
scooped the kitten up, rubbing her nose against his pink one. “How is my
baby? Have you been good?”
“Me loves you too,” she said. She cradled Amir in one hand, searched
for kitty treats with the other. Salmon-flavored Whiskas were his
favorite. Making her cat happy made her happy.
the room.
The TV blared to life. “-learned that Frank Fleisher of Grey, Alberta
has been granted bail. His lawyer is-“
“Poe, is that you?” Jenny’s voice called from her bedroom.
“Nope,” Poetry yelled back. “Just the friendly neighborhood burglar
come to steal your food.” She found the morsels she’d been searching for
in the cupboard over the stove. Amir received one for being adorable,
plus two more for waiting so patiently for her to come home, before she
put him back on the tile. “And to spoil my cat.”
within as well as the smell of savory leftovers.
“Very funny,” Jenny said. She marched into view, eye shadow
compact in one hand, Q-tip in the other. “You need a new joke.”
“Well, who else would it be?” Poetry asked, eyeing a container of
pasta. “Hey, can I have some of this?”
Jen nodded. “Have at ‘er. I put Mom’s canned tomatoes in it.”
“Thanks.” Poetry grabbed the bowl of orange and red noodles and
loosened the cellophane before popping it in the microwave. She’d had a
long day at Vulcan’s Forge, struggling with a pewter ring that just
wouldn’t hold its shape. A little comfort food would do the trick. Her
stomach growled in agreement.
While her dinner warmed Poetry studied her roommate. Jenny had
swept her blonde-streaked hair into a ponytail, emphasizing a long
graceful neck and the gold teddy bears on her ears. She wore a new
sundress, pale blue with a white floral print. It enhanced her carefully
applied cream and coffee tan.
