Chapter Six

There was quite the rumble as the airship's pontoons touched down on the uneven terrain below it. Though Hermes himself mainly was unaffected, possessing uncanny balance, many of the soldiers that accompanied him stumbled and shifted position inside the aircraft. Even Ares took a moment to compose himself, grabbing a handrail as he took a single stumbling step to the side.

 "Rough landing," began Hermes, "especially compared to the smooth ride of the Athenian aerobarges," he said, unable to restrain himself as he flashed a devious grin at his step-brother.

 Ares replied with a scowl. "Athens builds their ships for comfort. Ours our built to win battles," he said in defense before he walked out, checking his arm into Hermes' shoulder in passing. Naturally, a bump from the God of War was akin to being kicked by a horse, and it put Hermes off his balance, wiping that smile off his face at once and causing him to stumble back and land in the lap of a sitting soldier.

 Hermes got back to his feet, flashing a grin and a wink at the soldier as he did so. He then followed Ares to the exit ramp that was now being deployed. Once outside, Hermes took a moment to get his bearings. He recognized the craggy horizon at once. They were in the Northern Thermopylae Mountains, not far from the Leonidas Pass. It was a rough place to live, but plenty of Spartans called this place home, fashioning settlements carved out of or built into the sides of these hostile mountains.

 Where Ares had brought Hermes was something of an artificial mesa, a summit that had lost its cap through focused mining, transforming it into a military base for about a dozen aerial gunboats and three massive aerobarges, much like Ares' personal airship which had brought them.

 "And the wreck?" asked Hermes, seeing no sign of an Athenian airship on the base.

 "We have a ways yet to go," said Ares, leading Hermes to some nearby stables where soldiers were bringing some steeds out for the gods to mount.

 "I could fly there much quicker," Hermes said, tapping one of his boots' talaria with his caduceus.

 "You're not carrying me," said Ares, tapping his sidearm. The weapon was one-third of his Arsenal of Three, weapons made of adamant and orichalcum which could take the form of any weapon he so desired, typically carrying them on his person as a sidearm, sheathed short sword, and dagger.

 Hermes let out a sigh.

 "Is my brother, the great traveler himself, afraid of riding horses?" asked Ares with a taunting grin.

 Hermes scoffed and strode past Ares to quickly mount a horse with an accomplished equestrian's distinctive flourish and ease. "Petrified," he quipped with a sarcastic smirk.

 Ares chuckled and likewise mounted his own steed, a black behemoth of a horse with a thick mane and a red and black saddle made of the finest Corinthian leather. Judging by the masterwork saddle and its accruements, this steed was likely one of Ares' personal steeds, likely brought aboard the massive aerobarge with them for just this purpose.

 After a few moments spent waiting for the accompanying soldiers to mount up, the voyage resumed. With one of Ares' captains taking point and Ares and Hermes riding right behind him, the contingent of two gods and ten soldiers, with a dozen steeds, descended down a vast mountain trail, across wondrous stone and steel bridges, and through no less than three carved tunnels before arriving on the outskirts of a farming village built in an elevated mountain valley. A large force of Spartan soldiers and the wreckage of a still smoking airship were on the far side of the town.

 It was clear to Hermes that this was the strategic settlement of Pavor. It had a highly secure military installation not far from it, built into the side of the mountains overlooking Pavor. Hermes glanced upward at the nearby cliff-face and saw massive cannons jutting outward. No doubt these were the cannons that shot the airship down. However, Hermes was less sure of the proof of Ares' claim that Pavor had been attacked as he could see no leveled structures or scorched streets that would usually mark the target of an airship attack.

 Arriving at the wreckage of the Athenian ship, Hermes dismounted from his steed and handed the reins off to a military attendant waiting to take charge of the gods' mounts. Once his brother had likewise dismounted, Hermes followed Ares to survey the wreckage.

 The airship was a small Athenian ship built mostly for patrol and transport. It was not designed for troop transport or artillery assaults. If Hermes' estimates were correct, it could only have a crew of maybe seven or eight. Currently combing through the wreckage were about three dozen Spartan soldiers.

 Strolling into the wreckage and quietly causing every one of the Spartans to scatter, afraid of offending the god with their presence, Hermes began to turn over pieces of debris.

 "Are you searching for something, brother?" Ares asked after he too stepped into the wreckage.

 "The pulse-clicker," Hermes said, identifying the ship's communications equipment.

 "Confiscated," said a familiar voice.

 Hermes looked up to see Hephaestus limping through the wreckage, holding a large copper coil in his arms. "That was among the first thing we salvaged and sent to Mars' Stand. Should we arrange a personal examination for you?"

 Hermes had not expected to see Hephaestus here but was nevertheless happy about the surprise. The welcome surprise brought a wide grin to his face. "Don't bother," said Hermes as he idly strolled through the wreckage. "If your military analysts have gotten to it already, I'll find no useful evidence."

 Ares scoffed and rolled his eyes, trying not to take offense to his brother's insinuation. "What were you hoping to find?" asked the God of War, eager to be done with this.

 "Record of their last transmissions," Hermes replied, sifting through the wreckage with the tip of his boot and unearthing a partially melted locket among the scorched earth. Hermes casually hid his finding under his boot and kneeled down to feign interest in a different piece of equipment.

 "We have the transcripts here," said Hephaestus. "I can make those available to you."

 "Thank you," said Hermes as he deftly snatched the locket from under his boot and stashed it in his pocket. Then, Hermes strolled over to Hephaestus with his hands tucked into his pockets. "What do you make of this situation, brother?" he asked, shifting his eyes to check for Spartan eavesdroppers.

 "I think the evidence here speaks quite clearly," said the broad and tall god with the bum leg and signature clockwork leg brace.

 Hermes raised an eyebrow. "Like the thriving town we just came from? Is that the evidence to which you are referring?"

 Ares scoffed. "Metus took the brunt of the attack. It is on the other side of this mountain."

 "By the looks of it, Metus took the entirety of the attack, except for this single farm on which your soldiers dropped a perfectly good airship on, I'd say Pavor looks absolutely untouched," Hermes countered with a smartass grin.

 "Fortunately," said Ares, "our cannons were able to dispatch this ship before it got in range of Pavor while its weapons were operational."

 "A comfort for Pavor," said Hephaestus, "but not much relief for the folk of Metus."

 Hermes sighed as he strolled out of the wreckage, putting his brothers behind him for a spell. As he stepped further from the crash, he noticed six uniformed bodies lying in the sun not far from where Hermes stood. Picking up his pace, he closed the distance and confirmed his suspicions. The dead were wearing uniforms of the Athenian Republic Aerial Fleet, or what was left of their uniforms. They were bloodied, tattered, and scorched, but what concerned Hermes most was that all of their uniforms had a recent gash across the left breast, a telltale sign of a most heinous act.

 "Ares!" Hermes called out to his brother as he began to confirm that all six of the corpses bore these markings.

 "What is it, Hermes?" asked Hephaestus as he and Ares approached.

 "Surely you cannot be startled to see the dead bloating in the light of the sun," grumbled Ares.

 Hermes scowled as he threw an accusatory finger at the remains of the Republic crew. "Tell me, brothers, is it standard practice for Imperial soldiers to engage in grave-robbery?"

 "What are you talking about?" asked Ares with a scowl as he looked closer to examine what Hermes was talking about.

 "Athenian soldiers sew coins into their uniforms, right here over their heart," Hermes said, tugging on the cut fabric of the navigator's corpse. "It's missing. It's recently been cut out. As you can see, all of their uniforms bear this damage."

 Ares stroked his stubbled chin as he examined Hermes' claims. With a shrug, Ares scoffed. "So they cannot pay the ferryman? Not my problem."

 Hermes glowered at the God of War. "Excuse me? This is a huge violation of Divine Decree from our father. Believe me; he'll consider it your problem. This is a war crime, brother!"

 While Ares looked primed to draw his weapons and smite Hermes, Hephaestus hustled into the space between the two gods. "I think what Ares means to say is that we will remedy the problem. When we release the bodies to whatever fate awaits them, we will pay their boat fare. The Empire has the utmost respect for the Stygian traditions. Is that not right, Ares?"

 Ares scoffed, still scowling at Hermes. "Damn straight."

 Hermes shook his head. "I do not like this. Even if you pay the fare from imperial coffers, you still have to reconcile the fact that your men are robbing from the dead. Disrespecting the dead in a manner such as this is a capital offense against the Faith."

 "We will investigate this, Hermes," said Hephaestus. At least he seemed to be taking this charge seriously.

 Hermes glanced at Ares. The God of War was visibly upset by these accusations. What was less clear was whether he was upset with the offense happening in his army or that Hermes was the one that discovered this.

 After a long moment of locking eyes with his brother, Ares threw his head back and shouted. "Commander!"

 "Yes, sir?" asked the reporting officer, a man with a pressed uniform and meticulous facial hair.

 Ares drew his sidearm and instantly caused it to transform into a long sword which he used to point to the closest corpse's torn uniform. "What is the meaning of this?"

 The commander took a moment to identify what Ares was going on about. Then, after a few seconds, his eyes returned to the patron god with a curious expression. "I am afraid I do not understand."

 "Grave robbery," Ares exclaimed with a frothy hiss.

 "Oh dear," said the commander. "I will look into this at once, your grace."

 Ares nodded and slowly let his blade return to the form of a cylinder chambered sidearm. "There. The matter is resolved," said Ares with an angry gait as he approached. "Will there be anything else, brother?"

 Hermes had his arms folded. "Where is the captain of this vessel?"

 "She was sent elsewhere," explained Hephaestus.

 "Why?"

 "She survived the crash," Hephaestus went on, "for a moment. She died en route to treatment."

 "Treatment?" asked a doubtful Hermes. "Why do I feel that is not the imperial way?"

 Ares scoffed. "Treatment prior to interrogation," he elaborated with an unsettling grin.

 "That does sound more Spartan," Hermes quipped. "Well, I expect to find that she will have ferry fare," said Hermes as he slowly strolled away.

 "Expect to find?" asked Ares, raising an eyebrow. "What am I to make of that?"

 "I am heading to the Underworld," said Hermes. "If I hurry, I should be able to find these mortal souls on the shores of Akheron."

 "It's been days since they departed," said Hephaestus with a somber tone. "Surely they will have moved-" he paused midsentence, realizing what Hermes was getting at now. He chuckled and shook his head. "Except by taking their fare, they will still be unable to pay the toll and be awaiting passage," he said.

 Hermes tipped his hat to Ares and Hephaestus. "Precisely, so be sure to thank your grave robber for aiding my investigation before you skewer him or her," Hermes said with a roguish smile as he took his leave. "Oh, and I'll be sure to check out Metus as I pass overhead. I hope to find some evidence of an aerial assault, or my report to father will not be that favorable to you or the imperial cause."

 Ares groaned. "You'll see it, alright. It's hard to miss. A large explosive struck the town center."

 "Sounds messy," said Hermes as his talaria began to charge with essence.

 Hephaestus simply nodded while Ares stepped closer to Hermes, locking eyes. "It looks downright peaceful compared to the vengeance I will reap upon sister's charming capital city. You will find, dear brother, that when I am done with it, the stench of burning corpses will be so pervasive, the smell will tickle father's nose as he sits on his throne in Haven."

 Hermes paused from his flight preparations to gauge Ares' expression. "You're retaliating? You cannot be serious! My investigation-"

 "I don't care about your curiosities, brother," Ares said with a snarl.

 Hermes made a fist but kept his mind and did not swing it. "Something about this does not feel right to me."

 "Of course not," Ares said with a cold glare. "They attacked an innocent settlement and violated our border agreement. How can that be right?"

 Shaking his head, Hermes let out a sigh. "When?"

 "Tomorrow morning," explained Ares.

 "Give me a week," countered Hermes.

 Ares chuckled and shook his head. "You are madder than I!"

 With a limping step, Hephaestus tossed his coil aside and placed one hand on each brother's shoulder. "A compromise can be found here. Hermes needs more time and the Empire still needs a couple days to position its fleet for an optimal strike. Shall we split the difference and say four days?"

 "Five," replied Hermes.

 "Three," Ares said in retort.

 "Three," Hermes said with a smile, knowing he could have this case cracked open by nightfall if he got lucky – and fortunately, he was the father of the Goddess of Luck.

 "Excellent," said Hephaestus, patting both gods' shoulders with his massive, meaty hands. "Synergy! I love it!"

 "Not a moment more, though!" Ares barked back at Hermes.

 Hermes scoffed. "Have you even known me to miss a deadline, dear brother?"

 "Godspeed," said Hephaestus, giving a courteous nod toward his much smaller brother.

 Hermes flashed a smile in reply, and with a blast of aeromantic essence, he launched into the sky. Hermes was careful to make sure he was well into the clouds before he suddenly shifted course, directing himself away from the nearest Underworld entrance. Instead, he made a beeline toward the New Republic of Athens at breakneck speed.

## Characters

### Gods

* Hermes
* Ares
* Hephaestus