“They’ll have no more success this time than the last,” Hermes spoke.
“Better to drive them back,” Ares added. “Better to crush them once and for all.”
Hades sat in his little-used throne and waited, considering their words.
Hebe, the Goddess of Youth, offered him refreshments. Her normally bright smile was forced, and her eyes stared upon the floor. This was the effect he was used to having upon women. This was as it should be.
He stared at the ambrosia. He did not like the taste of it. It was a cloying meal, weighing down his limbs and thickening his tongue. The drink, nectar and wine, he downed quickly enough and set the cup aside. He would welcome another cup, if Hebe dared offer him more.
His hands ached, chilled still from their work on the meadow. He flexed his hands, noting that bits of dirt and blood still clung to his fingers. He had washed quickly, knowing his lateness would provide meat for his fellow Olympians to feed upon. And after the morning’s events, he feared his patience too far gone to tolerate their heckling.
Truly, this morning had seemed to tilt his world completely. Now he must forget, and right it once more.
Athena’s voice rose, filling the Chamber and grabbing his attention. “Athens’ hoplites are strong, trained well to defend the city.”
“You would refuse my aid? You think your mortals can thwart the numbers that Persia will place upon Greek soil?” Ares stared, shaking his head. “This is war, Athena. My realm…”
“Olympus will have no need to interfere or offer aid, you will see,” she snapped.
He thought of the boy he’d left, his body surrounded by tiny blue flowers. His aid had done little to help the soldier.
“We must decide such matters carefully.” Zeus turned a pointed gaze upon Athena, then Ares. “That is the purpose behind this meeting, to ensure Greece, and Athens, victorious.”
“Our soldiers would do better without such a storm.” Apollo swept into the Chamber, his golden face tight with anger. “I fear we’ve lost more to the waves than to their mortal adversaries.”
He’d encountered no storm. The sun, Helios’ sun, had set Persephone aglow. Persephone. He stiffened, searching for Hebe and another cup of nectar. But Athena’s face, her flaring nostrils and red cheeks, caught his eye instead.
“Storm?” Athena glared at Poseidon.
Poseidon shrugged. “None of my doing, niece. I am here, as you plainly see.”
Hades’ eyes traveled between the two, marking Athena’s narrowed eyes and Poseidon’s contrived innocence. It was an old rivalry, one that seemed to have no end.
Would Poseidon ever tire of scheming? Surely provoking Athena grew tiresome. And how could Athena, Goddess of Wisdom and Reason, not see how shameful such pointless squabbling was?
Why did he continue to expect changes from them? Hades let out a sigh of exasperation. Olympus was beyond his control. He would stay for as long as Zeus required, no more. Until then, he would be wise to focus only on the matter at hand. The war, the mortals… Greece.
He fixed his gaze upon Apollo.
“And yet a storm wreaks havoc on Greece’s ships.” Apollo ran a hand through his gilded locks, smoothing the rain from his head.
“Is it so grave?” Zeus sounded astonished, causing Hades a moment’s sympathy. He did not envy his brother dominion over all.
“It is.” Apollo nodded. “For its temper is unleashed upon the Greeks while sparing the Persians.”
“What?” Zeus roared.
Hera gasped, clutching Zeus’ hand in her own. “Who would do this?”
Who indeed? Hades wondered at such foolishness. Surely even Poseidon… From the corner of his eye, Hades saw it. A quick smile of victory flickered across Poseidon’s face.
But Poseidon covered his mouth as he rubbed his chin in mock consideration.
What ruse was this?
“Phorcys…” Poseidon began, leaning forward with a sparkle in his eye.
Does no one see the bastard’s pretense?