Seeds (17 page)

     “Obviously,” she replied disdainfully. Rather than try to pursue some nymphs here or take another moment of the maiden's unnerving stare, he quickly excused himself, taking to the skies.

     His experience with Kora had been unnerving, to say the least. Her response to his advances was something he had never encountered before. But it didn't take long for him to tell Apollo of his curious discovery. The secret that Demeter had worked so hard to keep was blabbed from one mouth to another until all the younger gods knew of the pretty little demigoddess. Hermes had described her flatteringly despite her attitude towards him, and the other gods were curious to see her. Of course, this could only lead to trouble.

o0o

     Demeter and Kora remained entirely unaware of Hermes's loose lips. The only regret that Kora felt about her encounter with Hermes was that he had been so unwilling to consider what she wanted, flashing himself at her and expecting her to just give herself up to him! Were all the gods like that? She pushed away the encounter in her mind, wishing only that Hermes had been more willing to see her as a person or as a equal to talk to, rather than a girl that he could have his way with. No wonder Cyane was so cynical towards men!
Guard your heart
– Kora took these words to her own heart, and she was pleased with how she handled herself under Hermes's flirtations.

     One fresh autumn morning, the leaves dressed in bright flame and earth colors in sharp contrast against the warm blue sky, Kora went alone into the forest for one of her walks. Though she didn't enjoy the biting cold of winter, she understood her mother's words about the earth needing its own natural rhythm, and she did love watching the changes as the plants bloomed in the spring and then wilted in the fall. The only thing was that winter to her meant death, for the trees were bare and the grass old and yellow-brown where it wasn't covered with snow. Death meant the loss of her old life, of her father, of her family and her normal life. Death meant her own end one day.

     Here, autumns were fairly mild, so all Kora wore was a rust-colored chiton, the hem around her shoulders and ankles woven with gold leaves. Around her waist was a plain girdle of ocher-colored fabric that matched the color of the stitching on her gown. With her deep copper hair, she looked like a goddess of autumn, though her pubescent appearance was ill-fitting in this role.

     “Red and gold are such lovely colors,” she heard a deep, masculine voice state from somewhere behind her. She spun around, seeing a square-jawed but handsome and dark-haired man leaning against a tree. He was tanned but not heavily so, and his arms bulged with muscle. His eyes were as dark as his hair, and he had full lips that were at that moment upturned slightly in a smile.

     She did not respond immediately as she glanced at the rest of him. He had on a breastplate, that though polished, showed several long scratches from where he had been struck by weapons in the past. His arm- and leg-plates bore a few dents of their own, and his clothing was bright red, complementing the fallen leaves around his feet. In the crook of one arm was his helmet, polished brass with a thick red plume. She knew without being told who this man was.

     Her heart thudded as she took a step back from this thickly built, broad-shouldered man.

     The God of War thought about his brother's words as he glanced down at Demeter's daughter, taking in her looking up and down his form. He leaned there, allowing her to continue her perusal, noting her curiosity at his armor. Ares did not try to hide the damage in his armor, taking these marks as proof of his passion for battle. He wasn't a sissy like his brother Apollo, who demanded that his armor and garments be immaculate at all times. Hermes was right, this girl looked too young to have lived eighteen summers. Was Hermes trying to play another trick on him? Hermes was such a trickster, playing these stupid jokes instead of facing him like a man!

     “I take it that you are Ares,” Kora murmured, her eyes moving back to his face. Her cool hazel eyes stood out in sharp contrast amidst the palette of warm colors that surrounded them.

     “You would be right.”

     “Is there going to be a war here?” she asked. He threw his head back and laughed.

     “Little one, I may be God of War, but war is not the only art I know!”

     Kora placed her hands on her hips, biting back her irritation. War as art? Little one? Were all of the gods condescending like this? She remembered her mother's irritation with Zeus, and her own experience with Hermes. Was this why Mother wanted to keep her safe? Dealing with these gods' attitudes, she could see it from Mother's point of view.

     But Mother is the one who keeps you like this
, her inner voice reminded her. She swallowed. How often had she wished she was as full-bodied as the nymphs that surrounded her? Was she to be the only little girl – perpetually so – among a community of women? She frowned slightly and jutted out one hip.

     “I am not a 'little one', so do not call me that,” she replied firmly. The steadiness of her gaze made him smile.
How cute
. Normally, he didn't like 'cute', but here was the kind of cuteness he could definitely like.

     “So it is true then, that you are all grown up in here?” he asked, tapping his own temple with a thick index finger.

     “I
am
an adult, and I expect to be treated like one!” she flared, not realizing the implication of her words until they exploded out of her mouth. His eyes twinkled, and his smile became wolfish.

     “Well hey, think about it – Staying young means you do not need to worry about being old and wrinkled!” he laughed. Would he speak so disrespectfully to an old woman? She remembered the senior citizens of Enna, how they had been respected. All of the village elders were well... elderly. One could see that due to their age, they had seen and experienced a lot, and that the next generation should appreciate the wisdom that came with living for so long. At this point, after all the coddling and babysitting she had been forced to endure and the patronizing attitudes of silver-tongued Hermes, pompous Apollo, and chauvinistic Triton – he had emerged from the sea onto the beach when she had been taking a walk – being a crone didn't seem like such a bad idea! Could she not have a normal conversation with a god?!

     “Looking like a kid means I get treated like one. And I hate that.”

     “Then I will treat you like a woman.” His words should have reassured her, but a feeling of alarm exploded within her gut. Hermes had backed off quickly enough, but she sensed that Ares didn't understand subtlety as much.

     Kora was correct in her assessment. Ares wasn't considered the brightest of gods. He and his sister Athene were both gods of war – but they represented the two sides to the same coin. Where his sister concentrated on the strategy in wars and battles, seeking out the most efficient victory, he liked pitting men against one another without consideration to strategy. War was war – the fight, the bloodlust, the heat of battle, the tension just beforehand and the euphoria of victory after a long bloody battle afterward – not some silly little strategy game like his pompous sister preferred.

     He didn't care for the arts or poetry. Sculpture, painting, and pottery were okay, because he liked having statues and pictures made of him fighting his opponents – but he didn't give a shit about philosophy, literature, or peaceful solutions to conflicts. What if a mortal was angry with his neighbor for some offense real or imagined? Knock him on his ass! Any insult, real or feigned, caused Ares to respond with violence. Only Aphrodite was able to quiet him – sometimes, at least.

     He was a capricious god – sometimes switching sides in the middle of the battle to prolong it – and he was proud of the city-state that worshipped him. Only real men lived in Sparta, and their women were strong – strong women for strong men who would bear even stronger babies!

     The high-spirited god did not play games with women like Zeus or many of his relatives. No subtlety, no seduction, no courtship or wooing. Maybe a bit of chitchat, maybe some foreplay if he was feeling more relaxed, but he liked to get into the meat of things – literally and figuratively. Slam, bam, thank you ma'am, usually more than once, however often he was up to on that particular occasion – and he was a
very
virile man! – before taking leave of the girls. He didn't like to snuggle or talk in bed afterward. That kind of crap was for girly-men, and kicking the asses of such girly-men was a sport for him.

     “That is nice,” Kora murmured, nodding slowly. There was no denying that Ares was handsome and that her pulse picked up just slightly. But she knew that his presence was a mere novelty in the sameness of a life surrounded by members of the same sex. It was clear that he would not be suitable company for her, anyway. “But I need to be going back to my mother now. It was a pleasure meeting you.” Her voice was polite but noncommittal.

     Despite the fact that Ares had a less-than-average intelligence, he was aware of the fact that she was snubbing him.

     “Do you run back crying to your mommy every time you see a man?” he asked.

     “Hmph!” Kora's eyes glinted angrily. There was no denying that she was mature, but with her young appearance, she looked... well, childish. It was hard to take a cute pout seriously.

     “You say you are eighteen, right?” he asked. She nodded.

     “That is not an age to be shy. Why, I had my first girl when I was twelve!” he boasted. As amazing as this sounded, it truly wasn't a lie. Puberty had been very kind to him, sparing him years of lanky and awkward teenage-hood, adding to his masculine reputation. Just as Aphrodite was the embodiment of beauty of the female form, so Ares was the epitome of rugged and powerful manhood.

     “What if I do not want to?” Kora asked calmly.

     “Why? Why would you not want to?” Ares asked, thinking she must be playing coy. How silly of her. He didn't like coy games, it frustrated him.

     “Because I just don't.” She shrugged. He frowned in further confusion, tugging at his beard.

     “Just do not what? That is not an excuse!”

     “It is not. I just don't want to, that is all.” Her calmness unnerved him. Usually when women were being coy, they'd smile a little, or their eyes would twinkle. Aphrodite was coy a lot, though she was the only woman that he would be even just a bit patient with. She was just staring at him. Not even a bit of admiration or worship or fear or anything!

     “Do you know what I offer you, maiden?” he asked, just to be sure she understood. She nodded, still staring at him in that unnerving and unaffected way. It only served to grate on his nerves.

     “Then why do you turn it down? It is an honor!”

     “Do all of you gods think it is an honor to communicate to a woman that you intend to have intercourse with her despite her thoughts on the subject?” she asked. He blinked. That sentence had a couple of words he didn't quite understand... And he hated big words. It was one of the reasons he didn't like Athene, because she liked using all of these big words to annoy him.

     “You dare act like you are too good for me! You are just a little demigoddess!” he growled. She gasped and took a step back.

     “It is nothing personal,” Kora replied, raising her hands placatingly. “I... am just tired and not in the mood to romp around. After all, I am only a demigoddess, without the godly strength you have,” she added pleasantly. These words served to calm him just a bit and he smiled.

     “Worry not about it. I have had mortal women before. They can never outlast a god, you know. Just let me take care of it.” Usually, when his lovers wore out, he would just bang away into them until he spent himself, letting them lay there and moan and plead for him to stop being so wild so they could catch their breath. Nobody could ever call Ares a considerate lover. He regarded lovemaking as he did battle – approaching it with all his ferocity and strength, not to stop until he wore himself out.

     Kora's heart thudded as she realized that he had come here for one thing, and would not leave until he fulfilled his goal. Now she was wishing for Hermes's company – if she had been more polite to him, would he have kept his meeting with her a secret? The nymphs spoke of his propensity to gossip. Damn! But even with his faults, Hermes was far better behaved than Ares was rapidly turning out to be. His eyes glinted darkly as he approached her.

     “A tumble amidst the leaves will do us good. Ahh, the colors, how they excite. So much red, just as I like it! You must agree?” he asked. She would have replied yes – they did excite her, but in an entirely different way – but she knew she had to get out of there fast.

     “No. I really must go, sir. Thank you for the visit!” She turned away, trying to not be too quick or look obvious, and walked away, her heart thudding, praying that Ares wouldn't go after her. For several moments she heard nothing, but then the sudden rush of wind before a strong arm wrapped around her middle, hoisting her up in the air.

     Her shrieks filled the air before a rough hand clamped onto his mouth.

     “Do not anger a god,” he growled. She looked around frantically, but there were no nymphs in the immediate vicinity.

    
NO!
This could not happen to her! Next to his considerable bulk, she was barely more than a slight weight to him, almost like a doll. She let out a muffled shout as he lowered himself, pressing her to the ground. Her heart pounded at the thought of being violated by this brute, having her virginity taken away in a greedy act rather than giving it to someone she cared for.