Chapter Eighty-Seven
Disbelief rendered me mute. I briefly considered whether this was a vague attempt at humor, though when I looked at Ares, I saw no hint of amusement on his face. Certainly, some gods were known for their trickster ways, but not Ares.
“I can see you have much to think about.” Ares’s words broke my stream of thoughts.
“But think of this. You have built an army here. An army from nothing. Imagine that army with the daughters of Ares at its helm. Imagine our children, riding into battle with the name on their tongue. There would not be a single force from Anatolia to Thrace who would not fear you.”
His words were true, though they brought me no ease. Instead, a knot tightened at the base of my gut.
“My god.” I dipped my head low, bending at the knee as I did so. “Your offer is gracious and more generous than I deserve, but I cannot accept. For what you wish me to give, I cannot provide.”
Ares tilted his head slightly, indicating his confusion.
“Children,” I clarified. “I cannot give you children.” I had said the words so frequently before, always with an ache in my chest, but this time, it was a deep burning that spread out from behind my ribs.
A burning for myself, for the child I had lost and the ones that would never be brought into this world.
“My body will not carry them. I conceived only once, and she was born too young to survive. I am afraid I would most certainly fail you.”
I bowed again, remaining deep in the hope that he might take my words and leave, but he did not.
“Otrera, I know you have not birthed a living child. I am sorry for your suffering. But our children would not be mortal. They would have the ichor of a god running through their veins, and I can promise you, these children would survive. If you agree, you will hold your daughters in your arms and watch as they grow into fearless warriors. I promise you this.”
Unexpected tears burned behind my eyes. I lifted my gaze to the sun, and I tried to swallow them back the way I had managed countless times in the past, but it was not enough to stem the flow.
I raised my hand and wiped my eyes. The action lasted a few seconds at most, a few seconds during which my vision was entirely obscured.
Yet when I removed my hands and could see clearly again, the god was gone.
* * *
I found the women farther around the coast, in a place not unlike Themiscyra, where fresh water flowed into the briny bath of the sea and the horses drank greedily from the stream.
The journey took me several times longer than it would have done, and not merely because I had just fought the god of war.
It had been years since I had walked any distance instead of riding.
As soon as they spotted me, several of the women mounted their horses and galloped across the steppes, although one horse needed no rider. Erebus. He was the first at my side, but before I could mount him, Damaris had leapt from her own horse and thrown her arms around me.
“We did not know if we would ever see you again. He is angry, is he not? Because we have not placed blessings in his name.”
“That was part of our conversation,” I said.
“And the rest?” Althea appeared equally relieved, though she kept a short distance away, offering me the space she knew I needed.
“The rest we shall discuss when we are back in Themiscyra,” I said. “Come, we have been away too long.”
I should have known I would not be able to ride home in peace but was instead hounded with questions from every direction.
Did he throw fire? Did he transform into an animal as Zeus so often did?
Every woman had questions, and even those who remained silent listened in, eagerly hoping for scraps of information about the god and our meeting.
“He was not as I expected.” I offered as many truths as I could without revealing the complete nature of our conversation. “He was respectful to me as a warrior. That is how he sees us. All of us. As warriors.”
The elation that cascaded through the women distracted them from any other concerns. Ares had called them warriors. The news spread like a great wave, and they expressed it as screams of pleasure, so unadulterated it could not be kept within them. As did I.
“We should hold a feast,” Thalassa said the moment she heard the news. “We must hold a feast, surely? Our first feast in offering to Ares, the god of war. He will receive the greatest kills we have ever made.”
A twist of nerves tightened within me. While Ares had been paramount in building Themiscyra and turning the women into warriors, Artemis had been offering us her patronage long before.
She had been there with me from that first hunt with Hirtus until our last kills.
How would she respond if we were to switch allegiances?
Althea nodded, understanding my hesitation.
“This is right,” she said. “He honored us with his presence. We must repay him. The goddess would accept and understand this.”
I smiled at her softly, grateful for a friend who could think with strategy and foresight while my own mind spiraled so erratically. Of course we had to pay our honors to Ares, as we should have done from the very first time we battled.
“Then a feast it shall be,” I said.