The Valkyrie (12 page)

“How are you
mother?” asked Glory after being shooed into the disgusting
room.

“I’m fine.”
Britannia said angrily. She had settled herself down onto a leather
upholstered chair that many years ago would have been refined
indeed.

“Fine: feelings
internalised never expressed.” Glory rose to the bait yet again.
She knew better but her mother always did this to her.

“Oh you’re in a
generous mood?”

“Why so foul
mother? Oh is this about the fifty pence piece thing again?”

“Go on
patronise me. You think you’re so much smarter than me, with all
those stupid books you’ve read. Well you aren’t. Why are you
wearing that dress? Who would be imprudent enough to ask you
anywhere?” Britannia was annoyed that no one asked her anywhere any
more.

“I’m off to
Olympus, my friend Liberty got engaged to Apollo yesterday and
they’re throwing an engagement party.” Britannia puckered
spitefully to this piece of news “I’ve only been here for a few
moments and yet it begins.”

“What begins,
you wretched girl?” Britannia arched an eyebrow.

“Your
tirade.”

“A tirade, from
me? The cheek. You horrid, ungrateful little bastard. I had the
best of me taken by you, if it hadn’t have been for you I might
have ruled the world. Your father, your fucking father, whose very
thunderous eyes you look at me with, took everything from me that
day.” Britannia boomed. Storm clouds were gathering outside the
window, but it was hard to tell which of the two had summoned
them.

“You’re always
the victim aren’t you, never the antagonist.” Glory leaned
nonchalantly against the pianoforte. Mites had been at the legs so
it was a good thing that Glory was lighter than a feather.

“I’m not
perfect and I’ve made bad decisions, but I’ve spent my entire life
being shit on by everyone else.” Britannia had the dignity of the
bawd house.

“No you
haven’t. You were more than happy to shag the old boy but you
couldn’t bear that he wouldn’t leave his psycho wife for you: that
you were just another nymph, another fuck and run. You make a
terrible play for Olympus and then claim your hand was forced.”
Glory shouted back at the goddess who marred her existence.

“How dare you.”
screamed Britannia in a fit as she slapped Glory on her left
cheek.

“How dare I
indeed? You might have ruled the world? You bloody did because of
me. I carved up the land and the sea and put your fucking name on
it, your fucking flag. My goodness the millions and millions that
fell in your name, and against it, and yet you have the nerve to
tell me that I ruined everything, I made you bitch. How many ships
did I have sunk, how many cities did I have burnt, how many shots
did I have fired? How many mortal lives did I have ruined so that
you wouldn’t hate me?” asked Glory in earnest. Illicit immortal
tears rolled down her cheeks. This was the confrontation she had
dreamed of for centuries.

“You awful
child. You couldn’t even stay married.” screeched Britannia as she
slapped Glory again on the other cheek.

“Awful child? I
did more than any other daughter would do for their mother. I gave
you all the glory.”

“Yes but you
kept the power between you and your little seer friend
Liberty.”

“Of course I
did. What business would you have ruling anything? You don’t rule
your own faculties. Your opinions don’t matter because they’re all
laughably crackpot. You should have sat back and enjoyed it, soaked
in the glory. And such glory it was; is glory not the only virtue
worth pursuing? I gave you exactly what you wanted and yet you
still hate me. My own mother despises my very existence, even when
I have swept up and given her the four corners of the earth as if
it was a tablecloth and presented it to her on her own table.”
Glory sobbed.

“Glory isn’t a
virtue, you’re a sin.” Britannia paused and maliciously adding “You
look fat in that dress.”

“And you look
dead in your chair.”

“I never wanted
you.”

“I never wanted
me either.”

“Did you come
all the way here to threaten me?” asked Britannia.

“No, I came all
the way here to kill you. It became apparent yesterday that the
world, as it is, is about to end and that we are on the edge of a
new epoch. I wanted to kill you myself before anyone else takes the
opportunity over the coming days of chaos. I deserve that at least,
I deserve your blood on my hands.” Glory pulled out the little
knife she always carried and plunged it into the cavern where
Britannia’s heart should have been “You heartless... you heartless
evil bitch!”

Britannia’s
body began to metamorphose.

“There goes the
British.” Glory said through immortal tears. She slumped to the
floor broken and she sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. Jovial tears
welled at her emancipation from the tyranny of her mother’s
terminal disappointment in her. Britannia’s body had started
sprouting beautiful flowers akin to nasturtiums and would fully
melt away into a florist’s delight in a few hours. The kingdom, the
power, and the glory were now all hers. Glory picked herself up,
wiped the blade on the curtains and put her stoical veneer back on.
She left the room without even glancing back at the floral corpse.
Glory walked out of the house and into broad daylight, she did not
need to fabricate an alibi as no one would miss her mother and
besides she’d happily admit to stabbing her. She shut the door
behind her sealing Britannia’s tomb. Glory walked out into the
square and said out loud to herself “I do not look fat.”

***

Aphrodite’s
bedroom was as one would expect. The bed had satin sheets and of
course it was currently occupied. Ares laughed to himself.

“Darling, what
is it?” asked Aphrodite. Aphrodite tolerated Ares’s little follies
with other goddesses and the occasional mortal women because he
always came back to her. None of them ever seemed particularly
serious and she kept it like that. His thing for Glory was of some
longstanding but it was never going to happen as long as Glory was
trapped in her little Freudian nightmare. Besides she had the
niggling feeling that Apollo had a deep seated affection for the
Valkyrie. She had considered playing Apollo off against Ares over
Glory, but Apollo was never serious about nymphs and she didn’t
want to unnecessarily goad her dear Ares. Aphrodite hadn’t realised
how wrong she was.

“Oh nothing
sweetheart.” Ares said with a smile aimed not at Aphrodite. He knew
what Glory had done, as god of murder of course he did. He was
proud of her, atta girl. He also knew what Athena and Apollo had
done. Ares had yet to work out their game but he was sure it would
all be revealed in due course. It all excited him.

Olympus was everything it was
expected to be: all marble and columns – Corinthian, Doric, Ionic,
and ironic even – and yet it felt like a gaudy pastiche of itself,
a giant folly built on a country estate. The problem was, you see,
that the mortals had reinterpreted Ancient Greece from the ruins
that they finally took proper notice of, after a good millennium of
ignoring them. Time had worn the colour away and sanitised their
culture. No longer paying much attention to the murders, the incest
and the rapes they focused instead on the nudes and fashioned their
local bank branches after the Parthenon. Yet Olympus was that
brutality. You could feel that ineffable something in the air,
something akin to shiny oppression, it was a jovial tyranny if you
will.

Honour and Bea
were loitering near the entrance to the party. Honour stood rigid.
She didn’t want to walk in without Glory. She wasn’t sure how she
was supposed to act around these Olympians and felt reassured in
such social occasions with good old Glory, as Glory historically
had zero regard for ‘good manners’ or ‘delicate matters of
breeding’. Being stood next to Glory meant that Honour was allowed
to not care. Glory was an enabler. Liberty had a similar effect on
Honour but Liberty made her feel like she chose to be different,
Glory made her feel like she needed to be more than different, to
be exceptional, it was her very nature. She made Honour want to
rail and rage against the universe and fuck it all. Honour also
felt threatened, the small sentry hairs on the back of her neck
were standing to attention and you always want Glory behind when
you feel as vulnerable as that. Bea on the other hand was as still
as an Elgin marble. She was sat on the stone edge of the fountain
that the pair were idling next to. She seemed to be fascinated by
the pointlessly ornate body of water.

“Are you ok?”
Honour asked.

“Yeah I’m
fine.” Bea said, looking up from the shoots of water.

“Are you sure?
Your old man is an Olympian right?” Honour was concerned for her
young comrade.

“It’s cool he
walked past seventeen minutes ago and never batted an eyelid.” Bea
said coolly as Honour patted her on the arm.

“Glory finds it
very difficult, her father is Olympian too and has never recognised
her.” She realised that she had probably overstepped the mark and
changed the course of the conversation. “I wonder where Glory has
got to and Valour for that matter. I bloody rang her again this
morning but it went straight to voicemail. How much sex can you be
having that you don’t check your phone for two days?”

Glory appeared
real cool as the setting sun glanced off everything before it. She
was wearing a cerulean empire line dress, enough diamonds to make
Cartier wince and more bravado than is necessary in situations that
recommend themselves to high heels. The heels were debilitating.
Glory looked Honour up and down. “You look cute. Cute isn’t good in
Olympus.”

“Hey, you smell
of bleach.” Bea said, finally rising from her ornamental pond
inspired melancholy.

“I stabbed my
mother to death. Who knew she’d be so easy to kill? If I had known
I would have done it far sooner” Glory said.

“Mate, that’s
way too dark for an engagement party.” Honour said.

“I fucking hate
Olympus.” Glory said.

“It’s sort of
eerie.” Honour said.

“I’m surprised
you’re here Honour after the fight last night.” Glory said.

“Bea talked me
into it.” Honour said.

“Had we better
not go inside to the party rather than loiter here like an errant
girl band.” Bea said.

“Yes.” Glory
said, admiring the steel of Bea’s disingenuous determination. The
dispirited trio all turned and walked towards the hall where
Liberty and Apollo’s engagement party was about to take place. As
they walked up the steps and in through the main door Glory noticed
a subtle change in Bea. She had in fact become subtler. Bea, her
very existence, was less obvious than before. Glory was focussing
hard on her but the casual glance of a stranger would not take her
in. What an interesting talent Glory thought, as she wondered where
Bea had learnt to do that. The room was like that of a grand
ballroom. They bustled through the door and promptly found the
alcohol.

“Don’t drink.
Take one glass and nurse it all night. That is an order” Glory said
as her quick eyes flitted across the room taking in all potential
threats and categorising them in her head by their potential to
harm her team.

Glory had been
unable to locate either Liberty or Apollo, they were probably too
busy shagging. Dionysius was standing dangerously close to a large
group of sylphs. Hera was fussing over a flower arrangement looking
a bit pissed off; she was doing well to rein it in, although a
bitchy comment would fly out here and there to Hestia who was only
trying to help her. Hera always had the potential to flip where her
husband’s bastards were concerned, so she would need to be watched
carefully. Poseidon was showing pictures of his new surf board to a
very bored Demeter as she picked the compost out from under her
nails. Hades was being hen pecked by that petulant little brat
Persephone over his inability to tie a cravat ‘properly’. Artemis
was near the bar lamenting very loudly the existence of animal
rights groups. They had passed Hermes on their way in. He had been
yelling into his phone about peak oil prices. Athena was on her
iPad editing entries in Wikipedia. Hephaestus had been plonked in a
corner by Aphrodite and left there on his own for the remainder of
the evening. So far no real threat, the Olympians were too
concerned with themselves. Well that was all of them except for
Aphrodite. As Glory turned the pair locked eyes. Aphrodite had
clearly just had a fight with Ares who was standing next to her
trying to talk
at
her but failing as the goddess of love
seethed. Love hated Glory. Glory needed to tread carefully. She
wondered where that little shit Eros was. The big Z had yet to be
located.

Athena had
noticed Glory and with iPad in hand she came over to the girls. She
was wearing comfortable looking loafers and the slightest frown.
Glory wondered what Athena knew. Was it the encroachment of war in
the heavens or was it something trivial like the state of the ozone
layer that bothered her?

“Good evening
girls. May I first of all congratulate you on your plan for the
Second Korean War, most ingenious. I understand from Odin that you
did some of the minor planning initially before he stepped in and
masterminded the rest.” Athena said.

“Yes, thank you
Athena, we were ever so briefly involved. May I introduce you to
our newest recruit Bea.” Glory said.

“How do you
do?” Athena said. Glory detected a flicker of a smile from Athena’s
lips when she met Bea’s eyes.

“It is a
pleasure to meet you.” Bea said, as measured as ever.

“Excuse me
girls I must check on a little tactical skirmish I’ve organised in
Kashmir. Glory we really should have a little catch up at some
point in the near future.” Athena excused herself and walked out of
the room.