Forged by Fate fotg-1

by Amalia Dillin

  Odd that Gabriel had mentioned her. How could the angel have known his parentage at all? Known his mother’s name was Jörd? It had been another plane, another world, another time. Before this world and its angels had even been created.

  He had been puzzling over Gabriel’s words for more than a century now, and come no closer to their meaning. What could the True God owe him? What had he done to deserve any gift from Him, any attention? It couldn’t be his love for Eve that Michael found so distasteful. So simple a thing, not worth any reward. It wasn’t as if it had been done purposefully. Indeed, for the last thousand years it had felt as though he carried his love as a curse.

  But Gabriel had said he would have her love again. That she would know him, someday. And it had filled him with a hope he hadn’t felt since before he had watched her die as Tora. One more reason to preserve her. One more reason to save her. If she was meant to know him, to love him again, he couldn’t let her be sentenced to death by the Council. She had been his wife, and he had been her husband. He could not sit by and watch her be consigned to death any more than he could do nothing if it was Baldur’s life in question. And no matter what Odin said, he would do the same now for any of the Aesir as he did for Eve. Argue for their lives just as fiercely. Even Sif, for all her cruelty, he would defend.

  Odin would disown him completely after the Council meeting tomorrow. Thor would have no home, no family, no place. Magni and Modi, Ullr and Thrud would be forbidden from speaking with him. Thor would be exiled, left to care for the people who looked to him alone. He snorted. There were worse things than to walk the earth.

  The earth. Isn’t that what Gabriel had said? Son of the earth?

  He shook his head. Perhaps when this was over, he could consult Athena on that issue. Perhaps she would be able to make more sense of it than he had. But the Council meeting must come first. He must focus his thoughts on that. On Eve’s defense.

  That someday she might know him, and his love for her, again.

  At Ra’s suggestion, the Council meeting was held in Egypt. No one could argue he was not fair or just, or that he would not listen to reason. His opinions were well respected among the gods, as he was the oldest of this plane but for the Hindu Lord, Bhagavan. But because Bhagavan had taken the form of Shiva, the gods could not count on him to mediate without prejudice or preference. Shiva favored destruction and chaos. That much had been Ra’s idea, but Thor still remembered Bhagavan’s booming laughter at the suggestion.

  “Ah, Thor. Good. Your timing is perfect.” Ra did not even turn away from the window, but he flicked his fingers in the direction of a table when the lightning of Thor’s journey had faded. Ra’s personal chambers were, as ever, well supplied with refreshment. “Help yourself to the wine. Athena said to give you her regrets. She is still arguing with her father, and does not dare to leave his side before the Council meets, for fear he’ll change his mind.”

  Thor grimaced, but poured himself a taste of the fine red wine, cutting it with water to quench his thirst. “I was given to understand that Zeus would not be a problem.”

  “He wasn’t. He won’t be. Athena has him well in hand with Aphrodite’s assistance. As long as she does not leave him open to the suggestions of Ares and Hermes. Loki found great allies in those two.” Ra finally turned away from the window and studied him. “She told me about Odin.”

  He drank down the wine in two gulps and poured another glass. “I once thought myself to be my father’s favorite son. Nothing I did could displease him, once I had grown into my power. Now he seeks the death of the woman I love. How else does he expect this to go between us? Does he think I’ll roll over and beg his forgiveness if he succeeds?”

  Ra’s face was lined, his eyes full of sympathy. “Odin wants what is best for his people, Thor. To the exclusion of all else. You know this. He wants what he believes is best for you. To free you from the enchantment he imagines has been placed on your heart. So yes, I think he does believe that with her destruction, you will turn back to him, your eyes suddenly opened.”

  “Eve does not have that kind of power. I have told him so, repeatedly.”

  “What power she does and does not have, I cannot say. But I do not believe you are controlled by her influence.” Ra sighed and sat in his throne. “You are prepared? You know what you are to say?”

  Thor nodded, sipping the wine though he would have preferred to drink it by the mug to settle his nerves. He dared not lose his wits before this meeting by too much drink. “Backwards and forwards.”

  “Let the others have their say. Let them shout for her death, and make their own suggestions. Speak for her only after they’ve aired their grievances. I suspect it will go quickly.”

  “This meeting should not be about Eve, Ra. The true threat to them, to all of us, is the Christians.”

  Ra smiled. It was thin and humorless. “Yes, Michael and Gabriel outdid themselves. It will be fascinating to see what develops.” Then he waved a hand in dismissal. “Go on ahead. The longer you dally here the more likely someone will suspect where you have gone. Have faith, Thor. A body this large is always better at inaction than anything else. Democracy does not favor bold acts.” He shook his head. “It is a wonder the Greeks ever accomplished anything.”

  Thor finished his wine, bowed, and left for the temple where the meeting would be held. He took up a seat in the shadows and waited.

  “All who have joined together within this temple have accepted the Covenant,” Ra began, formally calling them to order. It did not take long for the room to quiet.

  “And it shall not be broken,” Thor replied with the assembled.

  “We gather today to discuss what action must be taken to preserve ourselves and our people from the threat of Adam and Eve,” Ra said.

  “Let us just kill them and be done with it,” Loki called from among a group of lesser gods. Celts mostly, Thor thought, and Lugh among them, leaning back into the lap of a goddess. Thor narrowed his eyes. Hermes sat with them as well, declaring his allegiance, but Ra and Athena had expected as much from the patron god of thieves.

  Zeus stood, robed in gray, and waited for Ra to allow him to speak. The king of the Olympians stared Loki down with an expression like a thundercloud. “And when Elohim stirs in anger, and his angels come to smite us for our sins, what then, Trickster? Eve is harmless enough on her own, unwilling to hurt so much as a mouse if it can be avoided, and Adam is without his memory. The only threat he poses is as a warmonger among men.”

  Zeus retook his seat, and Ra nodded to Buddha, who did not stand, but floated upwards from his cushion while maintaining the lotus. “As a warmonger he has already served as a great threat to all our people. I do not advocate the destruction of either of them, but perhaps there is some way we might limit his influence.”

  Clever of him, Thor thought, to redirect their concerns to Adam alone, after what Zeus had said. And of course Adam’s violence would distress him. Thor glanced at Sif, seated by his father. She leaned over, whispering something in the Allfather’s ear, but he could not tell from her expression if she had expected the shift.

  Odin stood, his fur lined cloak made him look even larger than Zeus, and Thor did not fail to notice his father displayed his missing eye. A gaping black hole, made even more horrendous by the scar that ran over the socket. If Odin sought to impress this assembly with his sacrifice and strength, he had begun well. No one who met his single eye, or stared into the empty socket would forget Odin was a god both of wisdom and war, and had earned the honors with blood.

  The Lord of Asgard barely waited for Ra to acknowledge him, his disgust clear on his face. “Just a moment ago, Zeus warned that interference will earn the wrath of Elohim, and now you speak of meddling with Elohim’s son? The True God may as well be dead, for all it matters. The angels are no threat to us, provided we stand together, but the Christians, born from Eve’s own womb, already swarm like flies. You say she is harmless, but she threatens the very heart of our power with h
er new faith. Kill her and the Christians will die with her. Kill her, and Elohim’s power will wane, leaving us this world uncontested!”

  Thor rose out of the darkness, catching Ra’s eye. “I disagree.”

  He paused and felt all eyes turn to him. Even from across the room, he could feel the lash of Odin’s anger, but he avoided his father’s gaze. None of what he was about to say was a surprise to any of the Aesir.

  “The woman who has been called Eve is essential to the wellness of humanity. Without the renewal of the race through her children, they will rot. I have watched her for many generations, as she moves from people to people, and she is always born into the community most in need, where love and compassion have been trampled, and healing must take place. Her purpose is larger than we have understood it to be. After all, what good is this world if there are no people to offer sacrifice and prayer? We may as well wander the void, or return to the dead worlds we left.”

  “What do you propose?” Ra asked.

  “If Adam’s warmongering is the problem, restore his memory. Make of him an ally instead of an enemy!” Thor measured the responses of the others as he spoke. Athena’s expression was carefully neutral beside Zeus, but she leaned over to murmur in his ear. Bhagavan-Shiva, across the room, was grinning at the potential for chaos. “He is less scrupulous than his sister and may be persuaded through riches and power to do as we ask.”

  “And if he does not?”

  Thor shrugged. “If you destroy Adam, you destroy Eve. If you destroy Eve, you destroy humanity. If humanity is destroyed, this plane of existence is worth nothing to us, just as surely as if the godchild to come had cast us out and remade it all.”

  There was an uproar of angry objections. Ra waited until it had become a mumble before he raised a hand to gesture for quiet. He had to stare down many into silence before he nodded to Isis and the goddess could be heard.

  “Perhaps it would be best to leave well enough alone. We must first face the Christian movement, as Odin has said. If Adam and Eve have not found each other by now, surely they will not in the near future. If Eve is as Thor and others have described her, she will instinctively avoid Adam and his destructive ways. She has her memory. She knows the danger he is to all. I cannot imagine she would willingly give him a child of her womb.”

  Hera stood, the gold cuffs on her wrists catching the light. “Isis is correct. Eve is a discerning woman.” She smirked slightly. “Even Zeus failed to bed her.”

  Again, Ra had to wait for the temple to quiet, although this time it was laughter that drowned everything else out. Thor hid his own amusement. Zeus waved a hand in dismissal of the insult, a tolerant smile curving his lips, but there was a spark in his eyes when he looked at his wife that suggested Hera would pay for the remark later. Not that it would be the first time they disagreed. Zeus had a habit of ignoring his wife’s needs in favor of his own, and Hera took great delight in punishing him for the results.

  Bhagavan-Shiva stood, when all had quieted, a garland of skulls rattling as he did so. “In the void, there is no chaos, no order, no sustenance. I would not hasten our return to it by foolish action when we might yet enjoy many more centuries of prosperity and madness. And I find it strange, also, that these two lesser gods have inspired such fear in even the most powerful among us. Elohim’s children are but two, and we are many. Even this godchild will be mewling and weak upon its birth, leaving time enough for action, should that day come. But for myself, and for the Brahman, I will add this: to destroy another god or goddess without warning will be seen as a breach of the Covenant to our people. And if we are so threatened, we will not hesitate to go to war.”

  Thor was not the only god who drew a startled breath at the words. Shiva smiled with all three of his eyes, and reseated himself in the silence that followed. His third eye swept the room before his gaze settled upon Thor, blinking once. The wink did not comfort him at all. To promise war—it was nothing they had agreed upon. If the Covenant broke, with so many disparate pantheons already present, the world would not survive it.

  “Will one of this body appoint himself to watch the twins to ensure their separation while the rest of us concern ourselves with our flocks?” Ra asked, at last, when no one else rose to speak.

  Murmuring spread throughout the chamber, but none objected after Bhagavan’s threat. Thor hesitated to volunteer himself, though having an excuse to follow Eve for generations made his heart soar. Sif would not like it, Odin even less, but across the room, Loki had a very thoughtful expression on his face. Thor dared not allow the Trickster to interfere in their lives, or in any way guide the fate of humanity. He could not trust that Loki would not act as Odin’s hand, and Odin had made his feelings clear—he wanted Eve dead and gone, and Thor returned to the wife he had chosen for his son. Not that Sif would have him, or he her. Not that it would bring Thor back to heel. He would never be his father’s dog again.

  Thor stood, and once more, all eyes turned to him.

  “I will do so.” He kept his gaze on Ra, though Sif’s gaze burned through his heart with bitter fury. “I have already been observing them. If anything out of the ordinary occurs, I will be able to notify the Council.”

  “So it shall be,” Ra said quickly, before an argument offered itself. “You are bound by the Covenant, Thor of the North. Until some course drives them together, united against us, no action will be taken by this body.” And now he looked hardest at the gods whose specialties were trouble and trickery: Lugh, Puck, and Loki; Hermes and Eris; Set, Anansi and Legba; Coyote, Raven, and Crow; Kaulu and Olifat; and of course Hanuman. It was only natural that they had found seats all together, though others still were sprinkled among their respective pantheons.

  “Are we in agreement?” Ra asked.

  “The Covenant has been made,” they all replied, though some voices and faces were clearly disappointed.

  “And it shall not be broken,” Ra finished. “Very well. This session is concluded.”

  Thor seated himself and watched as gods began to file out of the temple in groups of two or three, trying to sense those who had been disappointed by the outcome of this meeting. He did not miss Loki’s sneering scowl, or the look the Trickster exchanged with Sif. When all had gone, Thor stood, staring at the empty chamber.

  He knew he should return home to Asgard while he was still permitted within its walls, but he couldn’t bring himself to go without checking on Eve first.

  After all, this time it was his duty.

  Chapter Forty: Creation

  Hannah and Sarah had brought seeds with them from the Garden, and planting them was their first concern. They found a place near the stream with good earth and marked it with stones. The presence of the lions had driven the smaller animals away, so they didn’t need to worry about rabbits or rodents nibbling the stalks as they grew. Someday they would have fruit and nuts to supplement the meat Reu was teaching the other men to provide.

  Most of the women settled into their new land easily, finding a routine for themselves and work to keep them busy. As the weeks passed, it was not just the seeds that sprouted and grew, but Tova’s stomach as well, becoming heavy and awkward. No one quite knew what to do to help her. Reu had mentioned watching a dog give birth once, but could offer little more than his witness that it had been messy and difficult for mother and child. Worse, Reu was certain the baby belonged to Adam, not Tova’s husband Enoch. One of several, it seemed, but Adam showed no interest in any of the women.

  “I don’t understand,” she told Reu one night. Several moons had come and gone since the others had arrived. “Why is he still here? He does as he’s asked, keeps the terms you set without complaint. It’s not right, Reu. It isn’t like him to remain so subdued.”

  Lilith had married Adam and lived with him outside the shelter of the caves. When Eve realized she was sleeping in the cold, she had given her the fur from an antelope to warm herself, but Lilith had sneered at her and the gift, even as her waist thickened. Adam k
ept his word, and no new bruises appeared on Lilith’s body, but there was little Eve could do to help her, and she did not trust Adam, even so.

  Reu shook his head and settled her more comfortably against his body under the fur they kept as a blanket. “Maybe he’s changed. Maybe being thrown from the Garden taught him humility.”

  “I wish I could believe that.”

  “This has been difficult for everyone, Eve. Losing the abundance of the Garden, hunting to feed ourselves. I would be more surprised if he moved through this life unchanged and untouched.” His hands were warm and rough, calloused now from the work he did with them.

  She drew his hand across her waist and pressed herself as close to him as possible.

  He chuckled softly in her ear and then stopped, his hand passing across her stomach and abdomen again more firmly, searching. “Have I given you a child, Eve?”

  “I have begun to wonder, too.” She twisted in his arms to look at him in the darkness, reminded suddenly of the first time they had spoken, when all she could see of him was shadow in the cave. “But I’m not sure I know how to be a mother, Reu.”

  He kissed her, stroking her hair and face. “Nor I a father. But there will be other children before ours to learn from, and God made us for this more than anything. You mother us already, caring for Tova when she sickens in the morning and making sure we are all fed and clothed.”

  “You give me more honor than I deserve, husband.”

  “I give you the honors you have earned, wife.” He pressed his forehead to hers, and his voice became rough. “Keep Eri close.”

  “Always,” she agreed, though the reminder made her frown. Eri protected her from Adam, first and foremost.

  He sighed and held her close. “I love you more knowing you have my child within you. I cannot let any harm come to you now.”