Fate of the Gods 01 - Forged by Fate (20 page)

Yes, she was certain.

Reu was watching her, searching her face. “What will you do?”

Eve stepped toward the tree, and the low branch from which the serpent had hung. One of the fruits, hidden in the red leaves, winked with a flash of sunlight. A faint tingle traveled down her arm as her hand closed around it and the fruit came free. The branch swayed, relieved of its burden, weeping the broad scarlet leaves in a shower around her.

The fruit was heavy in her hand. Much heavier than an apple would have been. She wondered briefly about the angels. Who they were, and what they would do to her when they realized she had broken God’s law. Sin, the creature had called it. But was it, really? Or was it wisdom, for the greater good, like the story Reu had told her about the one-eyed man in the sky?

She raised the fruit to her lips.

Chapter Eighteen: 650 BC

In the North, the ocean currents shifted and beneath the surface, magma channels altered course. A frozen fist closed around their people, and even Sif forgot her anger for a time, as the gods worked to save the lives of those who looked to them. It had come upon them without warning, as though the Aesir were bedeviled by a higher power. Thor did not like to dwell on the possibility that this might be a punishment sent by the True God, Eve’s Elohim, nor did he so much as breathe the suggestion to Odin. If it was the True God, the fault was his for meddling with Elohim’s daughter, and Thor did not dare speak of Eve to Sif. There was no room for strife in Asgard, not while their people starved. There was no room for anything but what might be done to save them.

Freyr ensured what crops remained gave a bountiful harvest, but the vines could not survive the cold for long. The summers had been easier, but no matter how well Freyr tended the crops, or how much rain and sun Thor gave the fields, there wasn’t enough to see the people through the lengthening months of barren cold with so little hunting to supplement their meals. Fighting against snowdrifts taller than a man made game hard to find, and as the winters lengthened, more plants began to fail.

Sif spent her days in the storehouses, blessing meager harvests of wheat to protect them from spoil, and Freyja spent long days and nights, shepherding the dead to their final rest. Men so weak they died hunting in the snow, desperate to find game for their wives and children, starving at home. Frigg consulted the runes and her visions of fate, but she saw no end in sight.

On Odin’s order, Thor left for Egypt to beg for grain. But the North lands did not suffer alone.

“War,” Ra told him, his ancient face looking older still. “Eve’s brother is King of the Universe in Assyria, and he is determined to crush us beneath his heel. Bakare did well for a time, but Thebes is sacked now. I fear the dynasty will not recover.”

“Surely the Assyrians cannot mean to displace you?”

Ra stood with him by the window, looking out over the city. Egypt reflected its god, Thor thought. Worn and tired, but still living. Still strong in the ways that mattered.

“It is not the will of Ashur, no,” Ra agreed. “But Assurbanipal—Adam—he has no respect for man or god, and Ashur is unwilling to act against him for fear he will leave. In truth, I do not blame him. As long as Adam makes the proper offerings, Ashur’s power grows. It is a heady thing, to be worshipped by the son of Elohim.”

Thor grunted. Eve may not have known him for a god, but the love she had given him had been as powerful as any sacrifice. Truly, even more so. When they had made love, her power had spilled over the whole village, leaving peace in its wake. He could only imagine what Adam’s worship might bring.

“Did you find her family?” Ra asked. “You could not have come so far to speak of Adam’s foolishness.”

“I fear I did not come to speak of Eve, either,” Thor admitted. “My father sent me in the hope that you might have grain to spare, but I could not ask it of you now, even in trade.”

“Nonsense,” Ra said, the lines of his face growing deeper. “You would not come if the need were not desperate. It is for your people?”

Thor nodded stiffly. “The climate has shifted and our people starve. Half the crops have failed, already. We have done what we can, of course, and begun moving our people south, but it has been a hard adjustment, and the southern and coastal villages cannot feed so many on their own stores.”

“Of course,” Ra said, staring out the window again. “When Elohim stirs, the world awakes. But He has slept for so long, I did not think even to warn you.”

“Then it is His way?”

Ra shook his head. “It happens rarely. As I said, He was greatly weakened by Creation. Before the Covenant, it was much more common. He feared for the world, you see. As long as we are at peace with one another, it is nothing to Him if we remain. But He could not rest, knowing we might tear the earth apart. Was there some sign of unrest among the Aesir?”

“No,” Thor said, thinking guiltily of Eve. “None among us would violate the Covenant. Odin would not stand for it.”

“But there is something else?” Ra asked, no longer studying his city, his Egypt. Thor felt his gaze, sharp and searching, and he dared not lie. Not to Ra, who had treated him always as an honored friend. And at least if he spoke with Ra about his fears, it would not return to Sif.

“I married her,” he said. “I had not meant to do it—only to know her better. But she is without equal. And when she began to love me! She is made for it, Ra. Made to love so perfectly that I wonder at the True God’s power. She has no idea of her perfection. Not truly. No understanding of her true godhead. And after Sif’s betrayal…” His jaw tightened until his teeth ached. “It is my fault, what has happened in the North.”

“Enough,” Ra said gently. “She has suffered through more marriages of pain and abuse that I cannot imagine Elohim would stir himself against your love. But it is dangerous, Thor. She does not belong to us. A goddess she may be, but this road you walk will only bring heartbreak to both of you. You would be better served seeking comfort in Athena’s embrace.”

“Athena?” Thor snorted. “What has she to do with any of it?”

Ra flicked his fingers, dismissing the suggestion. “I mean only to say there is no future to be had with her. Will you find her in every life? Court her every century, as if it were the first? Be husband, father, brother, and child to her as she grows from babe to child to woman to decrepit hag once more?”

Yes.
The thought startled him all the more for the way his heart twisted with longing. To spend eternity with Eve—it tempted him in a way he had never imagined possible. He had Sif, after all. He was married, and until they had come to this world, he had been content. They both had been. His affair with Eve should have ended with Tora’s death. He had promised himself it would be so.

“Perhaps for a century or two, you would have peace with her,” Ra went on, as if knowing his thoughts. “But she is not made to love you, Thor. She is made to love mortal men, who will age and grow as she does, die as she does. Would you interfere, thwart the will of her Father? Teach her the love of a god so that she would be spoiled by it, ruined for any mortal who might come after?”

“My ability to love is far from perfect,” Thor said, unable to stop himself from arguing like a sullen boy. “My inconstancy has already been proven. I am twice damned by my wife. Would loving Eve so imperfectly be a crime?”

Ra shook his head, his old eyes filled with compassion. “She is of the world, Thor. You are merely in it. Do not forget that, whatever you decide.”

Thor wanted to snarl, to growl, to thunder his frustration. But these were not his lands, and he had not come to Egypt to fight with Ra over Eve. He had not meant to think of her at all. She would not have wanted him distracted by this while his people suffered. And if she had known he was married…

“I have gold to trade,” he said at last, his tone dull even to his own ears, “if Egypt can afford to part with any of its bounty.”

Ra nodded. “Even in times of war, we can spare a little for our friends in the North, but you might have better luck with the Olympians. Speak with Athena and she will see Zeus agrees.”

“And how might I reach her?”

Ra smiled faintly. “Take yourself to Athens and she will find you.”

Athens. Thor grimaced internally. Eve had spoken far too much of Athens. Going there would only remind him of what he should not want. But he had lost too much time already, and he had promised his father he would seek out Poseidon, besides. Odin hoped the Olympian god of earth and sea would know some secret that might help them. But if it was Elohim who had changed the course of the currents, and the flow of magma beneath the surface, Thor did not have much hope.

“My gratitude, Ra,” he remembered to say, offering a short bow. “I wish you good fortune in your conflict with Assyria.”

Ra waved the sentiment away. “We will rise up again. Another century or two, and who can say. Perhaps it will be Adam leading Egypt’s armies in conquering Assyria instead.”

The thought brought him little comfort.

“Thor of the North!” Athena smiled, taking both his hands. Unlike Aphrodite, she did not try to greet him any more warmly. “I had not expected to see you again so soon. Ra sent word ahead of your needs, and if I must give you grain from Athens’ own stores, you will have it for your people, but I expect my father will see reason. He will like having you in his debt.”

“I have gold—”

“Please,” she stopped him, her expression suddenly grave. “The last apples you gave us resulted in more grief than I wish to remember. No. If there is any trade, let it be in some other currency.”

The Athenians had directed him to a shrine, nestled in the heart of an olive grove. A low stone altar stood beneath the oldest tree, with a spring fed pond reflecting moonlight beside it. Athena seemed to shine with the same light, between the silver breastplate and the white of her simple gown. Snakes curled around her upper arms like so much gold. She brushed olive leaves off the altar and sat upon it like a bench, making room for him beside her.

He pressed his lips together. Virgin goddess or not, she seemed to know her beauty and how best to display it with simple elegance. Her skin glowed, moon-pale and perfect, in contrast to the rich brown of her hair, so dark it looked black without sunlight, but she wore no ornamentation, nor did she paint her face as Aphrodite might. Thor dared not give offense, and sat beside her, as far from her as the stone allowed.

Her smile mocked him. “You cannot be nervous of me? If you could resist my sister’s wiles and all of Bhagavan’s court, there is nothing I can offer that would tempt you, were I so disposed.”

He inclined his head politely. “You do not give yourself the credit you deserve, Athena.”

She laughed. “Are all the Aesir so generous? Perhaps I should insist on accompanying you back to Asgard in exchange for grain—but no, you do not have time for such foolishness, and I would not tire you with it.”

“You have my gratitude,” he said. “For anything you might offer us.”

“In Athens we have not much. Perhaps it would see three of your villages through the winter.” Her eyes narrowed just slightly, shrewdly, and he wondered what it was she looked for. One of the snakes slithered from her arm to her wrist, and she stroked its head. “Are you willing to trade more than gold, Thor of the North? Zeus has no sense of urgency for pursuits other than his own, but if you can persuade him, your people will not go hungry this year or the next.”

He arched a brow. “What must I do?”

“There is a feast this night upon Olympus. If you can keep from offending my family, I believe my father would be most likely to grant his aid come morning. Do you suppose you can manage?”

No doubt Sif would take exception to an evening spent carousing with Olympian goddesses, but he had come for grain, and he would not leave without it. And truly, it would be better if she believed him unfaithful in their company than Eve’s.

“Do I have the promise of your support?” he asked.

Athena rose, offering him her hand. “I fear you will not succeed without it.”