Fate of the Gods 01 - Forged by Fate (43 page)

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 her 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 kept 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.”

“I’m safe, Reu. Here with you, I always feel safe.”

“It will be many months before the baby comes,” he said softly.

“Hannah says Tova’s child will come any day now. We stay by her side, waiting for signs. I think it will be reassuring to all of us to be able to witness our own futures, but I know she’s frightened.”

“Keep some of the willow bark at hand. If there’s pain, it should help.” He stared at the stone above them, his eyes unfocused. “I wonder if Adam knows anything of this.”

The idea he might had occurred to her, but she had not wanted to ask. “Perhaps.”

“I’ll speak with him during our hunt tomorrow.” He sounded determined. Eve silently wished him luck, though it was unlikely he would meet with much success. He yawned, and she felt his exhaustion creeping over her.

“Sleep, love,” she said, curling up against his body. “Sleep well.”