Balm In Gilead: Chapter 21

We return to this story after four years, in a more uncertain world than once had been. I dedicate this next arc to Hestia, and being kind to those who come to us with nothing. Please enjoy.

This chapter was edited by EVASaiyajin

Interlude: Cruelty Has a Human Heart, The Human Form Divine

Freya had many plans in motion.

She walked now in the gutters of Orario’s pleasure district to advance several of those plans, for a lady never served only one end.

Apollo had begun to grow bored with Taylor’s reticence. He’d baited the trap, but she hadn’t bit, and the God of Poetry had enough distractions that Freya’s gem all but slipped from his mind once godly gossip moved on to Ganesha’s most recent paramour. It would only be a few months until he broke his alliance with the Hestia familia in a fit of pique.

That would not do.

Aphrodite, another divine of love—and in rare instances war as well—had descended from heaven. T’would have been the perfect bookend if he’d arrived to fill the gap Soma had left behind, but mortal plans rarely aligned with divine decorum. He wound Hestia’s attention too tightly around Taylor, preventing Freya the access she needed in order to polish the tarnish from her gem. He played games with hearts that did not belong to him.

That would not do.

Freya came to a stop in front of the largest bordello in the district. Beggers sat at the stoop, only to be beaten off by amazons with bland expressions, as if the poor and destitute did not have souls near as bright as the guards who brutalized them. It made Freya’s authority curl, to see Humanity so disregard itself. She set foot in this place so rarely because even the presence of that odious creature’s get made her feel unclean.

Ishtar was a bur fastened upon Freya’s raiment, and it would do well to remove her.

Freya climbed the steps, pausing at the doors, hood of her cloak drawn low across her face.

“What?” one of the Amazon’s asked. “Need invitation to get your pussy wet?” Her partner laughed.

Freya tilted her head back every so slightly, and the laughter ceased.

“I thought it polite,” she said. “To inform your mistress of my presence.”

The amazons shared a look, and the first jerked her head to the door. The second all but sprinted back into the bordello, throwing aside the brightly woven curtain to reveal a haze of opium smoke and faux laughter, draped across cushions that had more mortal secretions staining their fabric than dye.

It was an affront to the very concept of love. Freya would enjoy ripping it away.

“Please, lady Freya.” The first amazon, who had so cruelly referenced her divine womanhood, bowed deeply. “If you would care to wait inside, I—”

“Cease speaking.” Freya pulled the hood of her cloak back down. “I am not here for your words.” The mortal woman quailed despite her strength and size, because Freya was a goddess of love, but she was also War, and War draped across her shoulders in its wrath.

She waited, a bare fraction of her attention tracking a bead of sweat as it wove a trail down the amazon’s face. “How strange,” Freya said. The woman stiffened. “Just a handful of seconds ago, I saw you laughing as you beat a man begging for alms. You broke the fingers in his hand, and grinned as he sobbed and ran. Where now is your fire, daughter of the Amazon? Has it so quickly abandoned you?”

The woman, most wisely, said nothing.

T’was the province of the weak to fill their bellies on the suffering of those who could not strike back. How disgusting. No amount of polish could scrub away the obnubilating filth from this soul. Freya idly wondered if she should try.

She came to a decision by the time the other Amazon reemerged from the bordello.

“Lady Freya.” She likewise bowed. “Our goddess will gladly treat with you.”

“Most excellent.” She pointed at the first amazon, the woman with no strength but for those who had no strength of their own. “You. Escort me.”

The woman’s eyes flickered, first to Freya, then to her partner. The other Amazon didn’t even look over, gaze fixed firmly on the tips of Freya’s sandals. Freya tilted her head.

“This way…goddess.” The woman stepped back, pulling the curtain to the side.

Freya smiled.

She paid little mind to the interior. It reflected Ishtar in all of her short-sighted lusts and greed. Freya allowed herself to be led from the main floor up past the private rooms, where drifts of thick smoke left ash upon the lintels, until at last they reached the clean air of the third floor. The woman bowed low as she held open a rich crimson dyed curtain and allowed Freya to step into the room beyond.

Ishtar lay resplendent across a richly appointed divan. One of her daughters, an Amazon with skin only a shade darker than Ishtar’s, massaged the goddess’s feet with oil. A man cared for her shoulders. Swaths of fabric lay arranged to set her in the center of a portrait, each fold and brush made to illustrate her beauty, from the swath of her trim and olive toned waist, up to the lustrous black curtain of her hair.

Freya spent a moment on those black tresses, contemplating.

“My greetings.” Ishtar smirked, lips pulling sharply up one cheek. “It’s been a while since I’ve had you as a supplicant.”

“Oh?” Freya took a seat on the simple wicker chair set out for her. She did not arrange herself upon it so much as let it begin to compliment her form. Ishtar’s smirk shrank slightly. “I thought it an excellent time to have a chat.”

“Cut the shit.” Ishtar waved a hand. “I’m not in the mood for your games.”

“Games?” Freya leaned idly. “I simply wondered what your plans were, regarding the newest God of Love to descend to this mortal realm.”

“Haah? Aphrodite?” Ishtar tilted her head back, accepting a grape from one of her children’s fingers. “Little prick isn’t even recruiting, and if he stepped into my territory, I’d crush him.”

She bit down, allowing a spurt of juice to fly out and stain the floor at Freya’s feet.

Freya raised an eyebrow. “Just like I’d crush you?”

“Hey, hey.” Ishtar leaned forward. “I let you in to be polite, but if you think you can throw your weight around without your little boytoy here to back you up…”

Freya let Ishtar’s threat hang in the air and fade powerlessly away.

“I only mentioned this,” Freya said. “Because our dear ‘Dite has proclivities that run much closer to yours. I have no interest in…this, but Aphrodite is a different creature, and he has made alliances with two of the stronger Familias in Orario.”

Ishtar raised an eyebrow. “Two? Him and Hephaestus are still sickeningly in love, but even she wouldn’t survive a fight with my girls.”

“Perhaps,” Freya replied. “But if she also had Apollo on her side…”

Ishtar stilled for a moment, before relaxing back onto her divan. Freya almost laughed. Ah, how transparent these gods were. Had they left behind all that was worthwhile of themselves when they left Heaven in turn? Soma had proved that the gods could attain the divine in this realm, but Ishtar lacked the…devotion.

Ishtar ran a finger across her lip. “Apollo is still chasing after that new level two. I haven’t heard anything about an alliance between him and the Hephaestus Familia.”

“My, but what big ears you have.” Freya smiled. “Did you also hear that Apollo has only been putting in a token effort to seducing away his ‘prize’ from little Hestia? Did you hear that he only finalized his alliance after Hestia and Hephaestus put theirs to ink? Please, dear, exercise a little intuition.”

Ishtar frowned, but the wheels of conspiracy turned in her mind. “Is this true?” She snapped her fingers at one of the Amazons ringing the room. “Feruna, did they file the alliance documents in the guild in that order? You told me that Apollo reached out first!”

“He did.” The woman swallowed once. “I-I don’t know what order the alliances were filed in. I—”

“Then go find out!” Ishtar swept up a goblet and hurled it at her child’s head. “Useless. Why do I have to tell you to do your job.”

Freya smiled as Feruna darted from the room. “Have you ever known that fool Apollo to wait for anything, least of all his own gratification?”

Ishtar snorted. “I sent over a girl once, said he only lasted one pump, and spent the rest of the hour composing awful poetry.”

“If he truly desired Hestia’s little level two, would he have waited? How suspect.” Freya leaned back in the chair, languidly crossing one leg over the other. “Instead, he waits until Aphrodite and his wife make an alliance with the same, unassuming, Hestia Familia.”

Ishtar growled, grinding her teeth. “Aphrodite’s been scouting around other high-level adventurers. Hasn’t snagged any of them yet though…why wouldn’t he start forming his Famila though, unless…”

“Unless it’s part of the same ruse?” Freya asked. “Why wouldn’t the three of them simply write their own alliance and leave Hestia out of it? Unless they wished to disguise the strength of their hand.”

“No, no.” Ishtar slashed a hand through the air. “That doesn’t make any sense. There’s no reason for it.”

Freya hummed. “Hephaestus and Aphrodite are sickeningly in love.” What trifling words. They belonged to one another, two souls becoming one. Ishtar could not see that devotion divine through the haze of her own opiate satisfactions. “And it is customary for lovers to present gifts to each other.”

Ishtar’s eyes narrowed. “Gifts like what?”

“Didn’t you tell everyone that Apollo spent in a single thrust?” Freya tilted her head. “Do you imagine that he might have held a grudge?”

“Apollo can’t take me, and that little bitch knows it,” Ishtar growled.

“Apollo can’t take you…alone,” Freya replied.

Ishtar stood. The woman at her feet scrambled out of the way. Ishtar’s limbs trembled with barely repressed rage as she put the pieces together. Led like a hound on a leash to something filthy, Ishtar could do nothing but jump in.

“They’re going to muscle me out, huh?” Ishtar glared at Freya. “That’s what you’re suggesting? Hephaestus and Apollo are gonna shove me out of my town and put Aphrodite on my throne?”

“An entire pleasure district,” Freya mused, “would be an excellent gift for Aphrodite. Has he been, yet? Has he been looking for anything? Or did your ears miss that as well?”

Another man stepped forward. “My Goddess…Aphrodite did tour several of the brothels at the edge of your territory. He asked to see the merchandise, but left shortly after.”

Ishtar turned, eyes blazing. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“H-he said he was looking for a mortal lover for his wife,” the man replied.

“Ah of course, you just believed him!” She stepped towards him, glaring up into the man’s face. “A God of Love wants to farm out his wife! Did he buy a chair as well? Did he strip her naked and parade her in front of potential suitors? You let a rival scope out my territory without informing me!”

The man began blabbering, words tumbling over each other in an uncomprehensible torrent.

Ishtar slapped him full across the face. “Bryna, toss this one in the stocks.” She turned away from his begging as two Amazons seized the poor soul and dragged him bodily from the room.

Ishtar turned back to Freya, a glower set deeply on her face. Freya smiled and waited. Not a minute did pass before Feruna returned. She bowed into the room, hastening to her goddess to whisper into Ishtar’s ear. Freya did not need to hear to know what had been said.

Hephaestus, Hestia, and Aphrodite had signed a tripartite alliance, and Apollo had aligned with Hestia the very next day. What a neat little nexus of power, orbiting an inconsequential spoke. But just like a wheel, the axle need not move to spin round the world.

Ishtar sank back to her divan. She lifted a foot, and her pet masseuse scrambled back to her task. Ishtar slouched, indolent and indignant, and Freya waited.

“And what do you get out of this, Freya?” Ishtar asked. “There’s no love lost between us either, we hoard it all to ourselves.”

“You don’t play well with others.” Freya shrugged. “But an alliance of three Familias with Apollo’s numbers, Hephaestus’s weapons, and Aphrodite providing information…”

Ishtar laughed once. “Would be annoying even for you, wouldn’t it.”

Freya smiled. It would be the barest inconvenience to have Hedin and Ottar sweep them all aside, and only that for the harm it would do to Freya’s gem. Such cracks might never be repaired.

“So.” Ishtar shifted. “You want me to do your dirty work for you.”

“Want?” Freya laughed, and stood. “I expect you to act in your best interest, and for my aid in bringing this information to you, I expect a favor as well.”

“A favor.” Ishtar’s glare deepened. “For rumors and hearsay.”

“Confirm it if you will.” Freya shrugged. “Poke around Hestia’s little Familia, see if you can peek up Aphrodite’s skirts.”

“Maybe I will,” Ishtar replied.

“And if you’d prefer not to owe me.” Freya pointed. “I’ll have that one from you.”

The Amazon who’d greeted Freya at the door stiffened.

“Haah?” Ishtar tilted her head. “What’d Yrute do to make you so mad?”

“She made remarks about my person. What was it, darling?” Freta tilted her head at Yrute. “I might have forgotten.”

Yrute shook her head, lips glued shut.

“Ah!” Freya clapped her hands. “She asked if I needed an invitation to ‘get my pussy wet.’ What else do you think she’s said, Ishtar?”

Ishtar laughed again. “Ah, well. If it’s just that.”

“Goddess, please!” Yrute threw herself to the floor.

“At last she finds her voice,” Freya said.

“I didn’t know! I didn’t know, I swear on all that is holy that—”

Ishar placed a foot on her head. “Do I look like I care what you knew? You disrespected a goddess in my house. Imagine if Freya had left without sharing this. Would you have known about this alliance against us? Would you have figured it out in her place?”

“Please, my goddess…” Yrute sobbed.

“I’m not your goddess.” She slid her foot down, to where Yrute’s neck met her back. A keening wail emerged from the Amazon. “I revoke your blessing, perhaps your new owner will see fit to return it to you.”

Yrute screamed again as her Falna flashed once, before fading away. Ishtar shook a hair from her foot and dismissed the Amazon from her attention. “Feruna, call my captains. We have a war to plan!”

“Yes, my goddess!” Feruna all but ran from the room. Others moved to bring out a table, more seats. None of them looked at Yrute.

The Amazon staggered to her feet. She moved slowly, as if her limbs were pressed down by great weights. She regained her feet, only to slip and fall.

Freya caught her. “There, there, little one. You’re mine now. Come.”

Yrute sobbed, but she was too weak to resist as Freya bundled her under her cloak and ushered her out of the bordello. It took almost the entire walk back to one of Freya’s manors in the city for the Amazon to regain her footing. She still moved slowly, with great effort, but her body began to remember what it was like to move without the grace of the gods animating her limbs.

Freya had plans for Yrute as well, for a lady never served but one end. This soul was too tarnished, though. To bring out its shine, it would first be broken.

Freya summoned Ottar.

“He will train you for me,” Freya told Yrute. “For you are in need of discipline. You will receive no rest, no respite, and if you give up I will cast you out. You will never again awaken your Falna.”

The Amazon quailed, senseless at the sight of Orario’s only level seven.

“Survive a week.” Freya smiled. “And perhaps you’ll be worthy of serving in my plans.”