bronze, brass, and silver reflected images even more flattering than her favorite mirror in her own chamber. A pool of lilac-scented water extending along a low bed provided a different degree of reflection.
“Welcome, Athena,” came the soft, sensual greeting, as gentle and inviting as a lover’s caress.
“Lady Aphrodite.” Athena bowed deeply in the direction of the tapestry to her right, which depicted humans and gods copulating in half a hundred ways; this was the best bet for where the Goddess of Love might be hiding. They had a tense relationship, the Goddess of Sex and the virgin warrior, complicated by the somewhat uncertain nature of their familial connection.
Aphrodite had been born from the genitals of Ouranos, when his son Cronos-Zeus’s father-had ripped them from the elder god’s crotch and thrown them in the Mediterranean. The drops of blood had become the Furies-which to Athena had always made considerable sense-and the organ itself had been reborn as the infinitely desirable goddess. Being born from the sea foam, Aphrodite in one sense could be considered not to be part of the family at all, except by marriage-as she was wed to Athena’s brother Hephaestus. The goddess might be considered only Athena’s sister-in-law.
However, she had also been born as the result of an act by Cronos, which in a sense made her a sister of Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades. Which meant that she would be due considerably greater deference.
Finally, she had actually been incarnated from the penis of Ouranos, Zeus’s grandfather, which made her Zeus’s aunt.
Aphrodite herself refused to clarify the complicated genealogy. For her part, Athena avoided the lust goddess whenever possible. Athena’s guile was markedly different from Aphrodite’s.
The Tapestry of Infinite Coitus stirred and Aphrodite emerged from behind it, warming the room with her beauty. Indeed, all Olympus took on a softer, more sultry glow. “From your tone,” said Aphrodite, “I sense this is not a casual call, nor do you visit on business of my particular realm.”
Athena nodded. “I bring sad news.”
“Does this please you so that you cannot send Hermes?” Aphrodite lowered herself onto the seductively padded couch and lay along it languidly. “Hermes was… recently here… and he mentioned nothing.”
“Perhaps other concerns distracted him,” Athena said, knowing full well what Aphrodite and the Messenger of the Gods had been up to. The Messenger of the Gods was a frequent visitor to Aphrodite’s chambers, and it was known he brought the goddess more than news.
“Are you suggesting that mere pleasures of the flesh might distract him from his duties?”
“I suggest nothing,” Athena said innocently. “This young couple, whom you have lately had so much pleasure instructing-”
“In Mycenae?”
Athena thought, Why not? She’d had no one specifically in mind but knew Aphrodite’s attentions might be lavished on thousands of such lovers at any given time. “There is a rumor they might have offended Medusa with their amorous activities,” she said, thinking, A rumor I have just invented, but a rumor nonetheless. “It is possible she has vowed to turn to stone not only them but all your disciples-and perhaps your Olympian self.”
“Medusa is hardly a threat.” Aphrodite waved a dismissive hand. “She’s just a vicious old hag.”
“Not a hag but a Gorgon,” Athena corrected. “She may be intending to destroy all who would devote themselves to your… pleasurable ways.”
“You are still angry at her,” Aphrodite said teasingly. “Still haven’t forgiven her for her rendezvous with Poseidon in your temple over by Carthage?”
“My uncle’s trysts are of no concern to me.”
“Concern? No. But surprise, yes.” Aphrodite gave Athena a decidedly naughty smirk. “Oh, if you only knew how many times-and places-he and I have-”
“Medusa is the issue,” Athena said, with a slicing gesture, as though her hand might be a sword that could sever that line of conversation. “She may be a terrible danger to your worshippers.”
“Why would she bother? She and her sisters are limited in their release.”
“Limited to the blind, yes. Otherwise, they would turn their lovers into stone with a careless glance. But anger builds over the centuries. It has reached the point of consuming Medusa as she makes you the focus of her ire.”
“I will speak with her. We can-”
“Wait, Aphrodite. There is more. She would harm you. Her rage is that great. You have lost many followers recently.” Once more Athena made a calculated guess. In Athens she had lost hundreds of worshippers in only a day. War always caused upheaval and death. Aphrodite would be similarly encumbered with her followers’ deaths, even if they came at Ares’s bidding rather than Medusa’s.
“She cannot. Zeus would punish her severely if she tried.”
“You would be in no position to enjoy her penalty if you were forever consigned to the underworld.”
Aphrodite paced as she thought. Athena paid her little attention, being engrossed in her own image within image stretching to infinity in the mirrors. Aphrodite with a lover would be exciting. Athena had taken no lover, but the sight of herself alone was enough to suggest what gratification might be gained in a room such as this.
“I cannot kill Medusa, nor can you. Zeus forbids such squabbles.”
Athena almost laughed. Aphrodite called the offer to kill another god a mere “squabble.”
“That is so, but nothing says a mortal cannot kill a Gorgon.”
“It’s never been done.”
“That does not mean it cannot be done, using the right instrument of destruction.”
Aphrodite shook her head and said, “No, no, this isn’t right. To be the force behind Medusa’s death is wrong. We can work out our differences, whatever she might think them to be.”
“Medusa is jealous of your beauty,” Athena said. “She yearns for a lover-any lover-as skillful as one you might accept into your bed for one night only.” Athena lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “She thinks you have stolen Hermes from her.”
Aphrodite laughed harshly.
“Hermes sleeps where he pleases.” A small smile flicked on her face. “He is always welcome in these chambers, but I cannot imagine him bedding Medusa, even blindfolded.”
“Beauty inspires Hermes. Ugliness certainly offends him. Medusa blames you for his natural inclinations.”
“How can she demand that he go against his nature?” Aphrodite said. “That would introduce evil into the world, where there should be only love.”
“Such is her jealousy, such is her wickedness.” Athena saw that Aphrodite stood a little straighter as resolve hardened the goddess’s heart.
“I cannot bear the thought of Hermes being in danger from a Gorgon.”
“And I cannot endure for a moment longer the knowledge that Medusa plots against you, dear Aphrodite. Let me tell you what we can do…”
Athena left Aphrodite soon after, sure that Kratos’s character would be tempered even more and his skills sharpened to perfection before the final battle with Ares-if he could reach the Oracle and discover the method to kill a god.
EIGHT
KRATOS CLIMBED ATOP a pile of dead bodies to look over the repair work being completed on the wall. The engineers had placed sturdy cross members against the wall, then had driven posts deep into the ground to hold them in place. It was crude but provided a barrier to keep Ares’s minions from flooding into the roadway. As long as he didn’t have to worry about those skeletal archers coming up behind him, Kratos could safely head for the city again. Without a word to the defenders nearby, Kratos sprang down the roadway and ran for the city.
Night fell upon Athens. The vast columns of smoke now swirled and spun, lit only by the fires below, and through the haze Kratos would occasionally glimpse Ares himself, large as a mountain, towering over the Acropolis. It was from the god’s own hand that the Greek fire flew, great flaming gobbets that he cast at random around the city.
