Fate of the Gods 01 - Forged by Fate (30 page)

War. The Romans never had their fill of it, and in spite of himself, Thor found himself in sympathy with Adam, an elderly advisor to the Carthaginian general, Hannibal. If it were not for the House of Lions, caught in the middle and ripe for the raiding by both sides, he would have wished them all good fortune and ignored the mess of it. As it was, he had taken the high ground of a mountain, watching the movements of any soldiers who strayed too near. Carthaginians, Romans, even Gauls and Celts, all looking for the path of least resistance across the Alps.

And not for the first time. The entire region had been in turmoil for the last forty years at least, and before it had been Adam urging Carthage to war against Rome, it had been Pyrrhus, attacking from the East. Thor was certain the only reason Pyrrhus of Epirus had done so well in his own battles was because of Eve, born as his daughter Olympias. Athena had taken pity on Thor, in spite of her own wishes, and granted the king her favor, and no matter how heavy the losses, Pyrrhus still rose triumphant in the end, keeping Olympias from falling into ruin for her father’s ambitions. Eve had even ruled for a time, before she had watched both her sons die, then she had seen Deidamia, her granddaughter, made queen, before pretending her own death and retiring west, back to her Lions. Into the heart of more war and far too near to Adam, no matter how aged they both were.

“Have you seen her?” Athena asked. He had noted the owl soaring over the marching columns, but lost track of her in the passing clouds. Of course Athena would be present, just as Tanit was sure to be present among the Carthaginians, being that city’s patron goddess, and goddess of war as well.

Thor lifted a shoulder, neither confirmation nor denial, though he would much rather have pretended a lack of understanding. Athena deserved better after everything she had done, and he would not treat her dishonestly. Not that what he had seen of Eve was worth mentioning in much detail. He did not dare show himself, or risk drawing Sif’s attention, and to have her so near, on his own lands, and be unable to know her at all.…

It was one more reason he hated this war. And he still would not speak to Sif, though he had taken care to spend time with Ullr and Thrud, bringing them both to Egypt, then Olympus. Whatever happened between himself and Sif, he would not have the children they had raised together believe he had turned from them.

“I did not even think of Adam in Carthage when she left us,” Athena confessed, coming to stand beside him on the rocky precipice. “I only hoped she would be safe enough with her family.”

“So she is,” Thor agreed. “You were kind to send me word. There are times I wish the House of Lions was not so near to the North Lands, with the Celts gossiping like Norns between us. Loki seems to hear every rumor of even the slightest events.”

“Do they know yet that Zeus granted you these lands?”

Thor shook his head. “The boundary is so ill-defined, they take no notice, assuming it is some patch of Gauls worshipping Woden and Donar.”

“And when they learn of it, what then?”

He grunted. If Rome won this war, they would expand, swallowing the Alps and driving the Celts and the Gauls north. When that day came, there would be no hiding his work so far south.

“I will do what I must to protect them, Athena. As I have sworn.”

She sighed, her gray eyes softening with something near pity. “And what will you do for yourself, Thor? Even on Olympus, we know the break in your marriage has not healed. Yet you remain Sif’s husband, still.”

He pressed his lips together. It was not as though he had not considered it. After that night in Olympus, he had returned home, ready to finish it all. But Sif had been prepared, waiting, ready, and when he had found her, she had smiled. A smug and cruel expression that made his blood run cold. Heimdall had appeared a moment later, catching Baldur at the door, and then together they had both turned to look at him, faces grim.

Baldur had shoved through the milling gods and servants to reach him, and Thor ducked his head to listen to the news his brother brought so urgently.

“Famine,” Baldur said. “Thorgrim’s fishing village starves, and what stores they had for trade were burned to the ground. Heimdall says it was Sif. He said she told the people of the village that they must pray to you if they wished for deliverance.”

Thor did not take his gaze from his wife, his vision hazing, but Sif had only smiled wider.

The message had been clear. Leave her, and she would turn all who looked to him, everything he loved and nourished, into dust. This was her warning.

Thor had left the hall without a word. He had not dared to waste a moment in seeing to the village, to Owen’s people, his own family. And when he found them, it was worse. She’d sickened them, too. Wasting diseases that lasted months, or even years, all of them miserable with suffering. And Owen’s line—every direct descendant of Eve’s son was struck down.

If he acted against her, he had no doubt that the next time, she would kill them. And the time after that, when she noticed the House of Lions, it would be the same again. He had no power to protect any people against disease, and there would be no proving Sif had acted so cruelly. Perhaps he had done the House of Lions a disservice, claiming them; were they beholden to Zeus, Sif could not harm them.

“If she loved you once, it does not seem she cares for anything but herself now,” Athena said gently, touching his arm. “You deserve better, Thor.”

“It is not so simple as what I deserve.” A god protected his people, or what good was he? He would not turn on those who looked to him, abandon them for his own gain. “The Covenant will not protect the House of Lions. I am not certain it protects even Eve, herself.”

“And if I promised you she would have my protection? That we would not let Sif or Loki harm her? I would even help your House of Lions, if you wished it, to see you made free, and I am certain Bhagavan and Ra would guard Eve as well, if it is needed.”

He met her eyes then, and brushed a stray tendril of dark hair from her pale cheek. He could never have asked it of her, and now she offered it so easily, without thought to the pain it might bring her. For his sake.

“You deserve more than what I might give you, Athena.”

She smiled sadly, pressing his hand to her cheek, and then turned her face to kiss his palm. “Think on it, Thor. At least promise me that.”

He let his hand fall away. “You have my word.”

Tanit guided Hannibal’s army through a pass further north, and Athena forced the Romans back when they strayed too near the House of Lions, but the Celts, allied with Hannibal, felt no such restrictions, and more than once, Thor had been forced to defend the lands he had claimed as his own. Fortunately, the Celts traveled often enough with the Gauls, and once his own people recognized his signs, they urged their companions away, begging forgiveness.

Thor granted it, of course, and when he could, blessed them with clear skies and an easy journey. Obedience should never be left unrewarded, and the work he did turned more hearts to the Aesir. Odin could have no complaints, and Thor was careful to return home each night, even if he did not stay longer than it took to make his presence known.

“Father would see you, Thor,” Baldur said, catching him on his way into Odin’s hall. “Let Tyr go to guard our people this night.”

“Better if it is you,” Thor said. He did not dare ignore his father’s summons, but nor would he send the Norse god of war so near the House of Lions. Tyr would send the Gauls to sack the rich settlement without a thought. But Baldur he might trust not to abuse an innocent people. His brother would not attack a party that had taken no side.
Athena, I must send a brother in my place.

Baldur smiled, gripping his shoulder in reassurance. “If that is what you wish, I will see they are treated justly in your absence.”

I will meet him, and care for your Lions,
she answered.
Do what you must.

“Athena waits for you at the head of the Roman column,” he told his brother. “See that she is treated fairly as well.”

Baldur nodded, and with a brief and brilliant flash of silver light, he had gone. Thor took another moment to search the hall, noting Sif with a pitcher of mead laughing among the Einherjar—Odin’s warriors, chosen from the slain. It made him ache to see the way she looked on them, the light in her eyes and the seeming joy in her heart as she teased and flirted. She had looked at him that way once, and the more he saw of her now, the more he could not help but think it had all been a lie. A game to her, to see how long he might be fooled. It felt as though he had woken from a dream to fall into a nightmare.

Thor forced himself to turn away, and then he went to find his father.

Odin sat alone upon Hlidskjalf, his one eye half-closed, and a raven upon each shoulder, muttering in his ears. Behind the throne, two wolves lounged upon the rushes, ears pricking at Thor’s entrance. They were new additions to Odin’s menagerie, and from what he had heard in the hall, a gift of the Trickster. At best it made them trouble, and at worst, spies. But Odin was no fool. He would not keep them in his presence if they did not serve his purposes, somehow.

Thor closed the door silently behind him, and waited. From the high seat, a god could see the entire world with a single glance, but only Frigg and Odin themselves were permitted use of the silver throne. A lesser god would go mad seeing everything at once. Some even claimed it was because Frigg had already lost her mind in the seas of fate that Hlidskjalf did not trouble her, but Thor was not inclined to believe his step-mother insane. Inclined to riddles, perhaps, but nothing worse. Certainly she had always shown Thor more understanding and compassion in his youth than he had ever received from his father.

“There is trouble in my house, Thor,” Odin said, his gaze still unfocused. Even his voice was distant. “And my son falls prey to the Trickster’s wiles.”

“Not Baldur, surely.”

Odin grunted, brushing the ravens from his shoulders. They squawked, flapping to the rafters and settling there to stare at Thor in accusation. “Sif’s foolishness is one thing, but yours, Thor? Did you not learn your lesson from Jarnsaxa, that you credit Loki’s lies as truth?”

Thor flushed, his jaw tightening until his teeth ached. “You are wrong, Father, I have learned too well. It seems there are none among the Aesir willing to speak the truth when it comes to my wife.”

“And if we had spoken, would you have heard it?” Odin scoffed. “Your loyalty has always left you blinded. To Jarnsaxa, to Sif, to this daughter of Elohim, and before them, to the Trickster, himself. Do you still not understand, Thor? Ymir woke because of you! All the Jotuns you terrorized at the Trickster’s behest, calling to their father, drawing him from his slumber. And now you would see us all destroyed a second time, cast out into the void with no people, no world to retreat to!”

“I have done nothing but make peace in this world, at your command.” Thunder growled outside, and Thor’s hands balled into fists. He had not been the only one terrorizing Frost Giants in those days, and until Thor had involved himself with Jarnsaxa, Odin had been all too happy to overlook his excursions with Loki. Indeed, Odin had overlooked him altogether. “What happened with Ymir was Loki’s doing, and if in my fool youth, I served as his tool, where was my father to stop him? To stop me? Or is that what you did—is that what Sif was?”