Page 182

Gia and Cassius guarded Claudia, trying to manoeuvre her out of the mass, but the conflict was getting closer and thicker, more ferocious, pressing in from every side.

The smell of blood and sweat. The clash of steel. The grunting of the wounded and the last breaths of the dying.

Finally, Darius broke through the ranks.

‘You are free,’ said Claudia, as he approached.

‘I knew you wouldn’t leave us,’ said Cassius.

Darius offered his hand, pulling Cassius up on the back of his steed. He could not stop himself from smiling.

‘I swore I would fight until the end,’ said Darius. ‘My goddess Anahita came to my assistance. It seems she has made a pact with your goddess Minerva. We shall fight together, for Persia and for Rome. If you will agree, that is?’

‘Gladly,’ said Claudia, shaking his hand. ‘I want nothing more.’

As another legion of Mars’s soldiers appeared above, the Persian archers began firing arrows up at them in kind, but they were as harmless as pine needles, bouncing off not only the chariots but the drivers themselves. The gods were impervious to human weapons.

A terrific roar sounded, shaking the ground. Claudia looked back to the temple, watching as the largest of the sky chariots descended.

Inside were Jupiter and Juno, king and queen of the gods, golden-crowned and side by side. He in pale blue robes and carrying his distinctive thunderbolt staff, she hooded and holding a sceptre.

An orchestra of cherubs played trumpets and harps, creating an unnatural melody that silenced the city, as Aquinas and his soldiers moved to greet their royals. But before Jupiter could land, another chariot glided down to meet him, drawn by black horses with ruby red eyes.

This one was driven by a man in rust-coloured armour, his helmet fringed with an exuberant red plume.

Mars. The consort of Venus. The ruler of the Roman army. Mars had fathered the twins Romulus and Remus, the patrons of the sacred city, after raping their mother. Like father, like son.

A frenzied battle began, as both parties fired arrows. Jupiter and Mars, both struggling for control, their shouts and cries ringing through the sky above the battlefield of Rome. As above, so below: men warred on the streets and among the clouds alike.

Well, mostly men – for Gia, Dido and Livia had also launched into battle, inspiring the women around them to do the same.

The gods were making themselves visible to mortals, and Rome was the collateral, for many fallen chariots and cannons had wrecked some of the city’s most famous buildings.

Lit up by fires, shrouded in black smoke, it reminded Claudia of the underworld Rome she’d recently traversed.

‘My children have disobeyed me for the last time,’ said Jupiter, loud enough to be heard on the ground. ‘I didn’t bring you into existence just so you could overthrow me.’

‘Like you did to your own father?’ said Mars.

‘You have no respect for tradition, for authority, for order,’ said Juno, her face souring.

‘You reign is over,’ said Mars. ‘Now it’s my turn.’

‘Never.’

‘Give it to me. I deserve it.’

‘No! It is mine!’

It was like watching two children fighting over a toy, as Mars rode closer, trying to snatch his father’s staff while Juno chided them. Claudia thought of her own father and brother.

‘Step aside, old man.’

‘You are not even a man, but a boy.’

‘Both of you, stop it!’ shrieked Juno. ‘We must stick together!’

As fighting slowed on the ground, the human crowd watched the scene above with interest. The gods had revealed themselves on Earth in more ways than one – for while they were undeniably powerful, dangerous and fearsome, they were also recognizably flawed, a mere mirror of mortal foibles made supernaturally large.