Forged by Fate fotg-1

by Amalia Dillin

  He sat on the bank, the skin draped for shelter, and watched as she immersed herself, not even stopping to remove her robe first, though she did not feel as self-conscious about her nakedness now that her body had been joined to his. She closed her eyes and let the water flow over her reddened skin, keeping only her face free of the stream so she could breathe.

  Distracted until that moment by her discomfort, she felt again as though she were being watched, studied with intense curiosity. It had begun to take a greater shape now, though there were no words. A sense of otherness, strangeness. She opened her eyes, looking to the banks around them, but there was nothing in the grass she could see.

  Eve pushed it from her mind, and made no mention of it to Reu, as he seemed troubled enough by the search for shelter and the need for food. They had made another meal from the carcass before they had left it, but they would both be hungry again before night fell, and the idea of hunting and killing another animal themselves made her uneasy.

  “We should make it to the other side before the sun sets, I think,” he said.

  She left the water reluctantly, and moved to sit beside him. The wetness of her garment was comfortable, though the sun leeched the moisture from it almost at once. What they might have seen of the Garden was obscured by the masses of angels that had flocked to it, waiting just outside its walls. She didn’t know what made them wait, or when they would act. Perhaps Adam had not eaten of the fruit, and they would not cast him out after all. Or maybe they were waiting for him to eat of it. Either way, she and Reu would have that much more time together before he arrived.

  “Do you think there will be fruit trees?” It was a hopeless question. Nothing here was what they wished it would be.

  Reu spread the skin over her when she was settled beside him. “I can’t imagine that God would make this world devoid of fruit trees, save for the Garden. But I would be happy for bushes of berries.”

  “Or trees with nuts,” she agreed.

  He laughed. “We could live very well off acorns and almonds.” He sighed and rose, offering her his hand and pulling her to her feet beside him. “We should keep going. I’d like to find shelter before the others are cast from the Garden. It will go easier for them, if we are not all wandering endlessly.”

  She let him lead her on, keeping her hand in his. These golden grasses scratched her skin, and her feet were sore. “Will they come to us? When they have Adam?”

  “I hope they will. That they’ll see Adam has led them falsely.”

  “We’re only two, Reu. Even with the help of fire, if they follow Adam still, and he wants to harm us, I’m not sure what will happen.”

  His hand tightened around hers. “We’ll find a way. The greatest threat has passed, now. As my wife, he cannot touch you. If you had not wanted me, I would have suggested you take Lamech as your husband when they joined us. He would have been willing.”

  She considered his words, and the words of the angels the previous day, as they walked on in silence for a time. Something had bothered her about what they had said, and the serpent before them. “What was the greatest threat, Reu? That you are oath sworn to protect me from?”

  He was silent for such a long time she wondered if he had heard, but in his mind, it was clear the question troubled him as much as the answer. She waited for him to find the words, or the strength to speak them.

  “The angels fear that if you join with Adam, you will create a Godchild. Lucifer told me something similar, though I wasn’t sure I believed him. That’s all I can tell you. They didn’t explain themselves further.”

  She frowned, picking her way through the grass as carefully as she could to avoid further discomfort to her feet. “Having a husband will stop him?”

  “God’s law stops him. He cannot take a woman who has chosen another. It is forbidden.”

  “What will stop him without God?” She knew too well the ease with which Adam had thrown away the limitations of God’s laws. He had no respect for any law but his own.

  “We will.” There was a new determination in his voice. “We have already, with our marriage. As long as we love one another, that binding protects us both even from his power. And the others will help us. I will not let him force you to live in fear. I know the law, and if he will not abide by it, he will not be welcome among us.”

  She saw the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes darkened with anger and resolve. It was easy to believe when there was no room in his mind for failure. Before, Reu’s protection of her had been yielding. He had hesitated to act until she had known her own mind. Now that she had chosen, there was no uncertainty, nothing to give him pause. He would find a way to protect her, whatever that meant.

  They found caves at the base of the mountain, but it was well after dark, and they were stumbling by the light of a torch and the crescent moon. The shelter was shallow, and they did not see water nearby, but they were both too tired and too cold to continue looking.

  They used the torch to light a fire near the mouth and Reu curled his body around hers, under the fur from the gazelle, and not even the cold kept her from falling asleep.

  Eve woke to soft footsteps on stone and a softer whuffling. Hot air blew against her face and she stared into gold eyes and ivory teeth the length of her smallest finger. The animal’s curiosity overwhelmed her, and she scrambled back from its reach.

  The lion snarled at the sudden movement, its eyes becoming slits, and one massive paw, claws unsheathed, grasped the edge of her robe, stopping her. She tried to tug it free, but the lion snarled again. She froze. Its nose and whiskers twitched delicately as it sniffed the air around her, tickling her skin.

  She glanced to where Reu still lay under the fur blanket. His eyes were open, his face tense, his hands in fists. She felt his caution and fear, warring with the desire to act. She swallowed against the tightness in her throat and held still.

  The lion released her robe, though its nose didn’t stop twitching. It sat back on its hindquarters and began to lick a paw without taking its eyes from her. This was the curiosity she had felt yesterday, the interest in her otherness. The lion had followed them across the grassland, staying out of sight, waiting for an opportunity to inspect them. Now that it had backed away from her, she could see blood on its muzzle, which it began almost at once to wash away.

  Reu shifted, and the lion turned its head, ears perking and narrow eyes focusing on him. It growled and stalked forward, stopping to smell the fur. Eve could sense its confusion. A roar from outside the cave caught its attention, and the lion turned abruptly away, padding back out. Eve exhaled, relief flooding through her, but the lion did not even go a stone’s throw from the mouth of the cave before it gave a roar of its own and lay in the dirt and grass.

  She was shaking, trembling, her heart pounding in her chest. Reu crept to her then, and pulled her with him to the back of the cave, wrapping her in his arms and holding her against him.

  “Shh,” he said, when she started to weep, gulping back sobs. His eyes were on the lion, which rose to its feet at the approach of another of the tawny beasts. She watched it through his eyes, her face hidden against his neck. The lions greeted one another, rubbing their heads against each other’s bodies and making rumbling noises.

  He stroked her hair, trying to calm her, though she could feel his own worry. Her heartbeat slowed and her breathing became more regular again. The two lions threw themselves back to the ground and yawned.

  “They hunt at night,” Reu was saying, his voice just a breath against her ear. “They should sleep soon, and perhaps we can get around and away without waking them.”

  “What do they want?”

  He held her closer and she felt him shake his head. “You would know better than I would. A full belly, and a place to sleep out of the sun, maybe. And we’re lucky their stomachs were already full, or I might have been their next meal.” Then he hushed her and stroked her hair again, because she began to tremble. “You’re safe, Eve. A lion can’t
kill you. Nothing in this world but Michael’s sword will kill you or Adam before your time. Elohim has made it so. You’re safe.”

  But it wasn’t her life that she feared for. It was the image in her mind of the carcass on the bank of the first, wide stream, and what those teeth and claws could do to Reu’s warm skin. Reu, her husband and protector. Reu, who she loved, who she knew she was meant for, whose children she was meant to bear.

  She had to keep him safe.

  Chapter Thirty: 180 BC

  Odin refused him the right to a divorce, of course. And refused, too, to forbid Sif from Thorgrim’s village on the coast. Between Sif’s threats and his father’s determination, Thor was tied more closely to Asgard than he had ever been. During the days, he might go out, traveling by lightning to any lands he knew, but he could not risk an absence of more than a night, for fear of what Sif might do. Nor did he dare to frequent the House of Lions and the lands Zeus had ceded him. Ra took pity upon him, and Athena, too, watching over them, even reminding them of their history when they lost their way.

  But with Thor’s declaration of loyalty to Eve, Sif and Loki gave up all pretense of disinterest, flaunting themselves before him at every opportunity. It wore at his patience and his pride, leaving his temper badly frayed, and the thunder of his anger lurked much too near. So Thor walked the Earth, and when he returned to Asgard, he drank to drown the fire in his blood, but his mind wandered, reaching toward Eve, and what he could not have. So he drank more, to keep himself from thinking and let the Valkyries flirt and tease him to distraction.

  Perhaps he drank too much.

  “Thor.”

  He lifted his head from the table and tried to focus his eyes on the person before him. Too much mead. The voice was odd, though without seeing who spoke, he couldn’t put his finger on why.

  There was a sigh, and then he was slapped across the face. Hard.

  Anger and lightning burned away the blur in his eyes, and when Athena raised her hand to slap him again, he caught it by the wrist, rising to his feet with a growl. “You have no business here, Greek.”

  “Because you’re so obviously drunk, I’ll forgive the intended slur.” She pulled her arm free from his grasp and her eyes flashed as she glared up at him. “I came at your brother’s invitation, though I cannot say Odin is entirely pleased.”

  Thor grunted and dropped back to the bench, rubbing his face and trying to calm himself. Athena was his ally. Eve’s protector. Tora. His Eve. His lovely, brave Eve. “She is well? Sif and Loki—?”

  Athena’s gray eyes narrowed. “This is neither the time nor the place for that discussion, Thor. How could you allow yourself to become this—what could you possibly be hoping to accomplish by drooling on the table?”

  “Peace,” he grumbled, but he let the lightning consume the alcohol in his blood and tried to clear his mind. Using his power this way always left him with a ferocious headache, and he did not love Athena overmuch for giving him need to abandon his stupor. “As long as I remain here, drooling, as you put it, Tora’s village is left alone, and so are the others. But I can hardly tolerate that—” he jerked his chin up, indicating Sif, where she sat upon the Trickster’s lap, “without help.”

  Her voice softened, and she touched his arm. “This is not peace. This is poison and pain. Your brother says you spend your days drinking until you black out, and he carries you to your bed. If she is holding your people hostage—”

  “What?” he demanded, unable to hide his bitterness. “I should appeal to my father?” He barked a laugh, but didn’t look at her. Didn’t want to see the judgment in her eyes or the pity in her face. Easier to watch Sif, feeding Loki bits of fruit and cheese, tracing her fingertip over the curve of his ear. “It is no business of yours what goes on in these lands.”

  “It is not the lands I care about, nor even the people. We have need of you. Sif and Loki have not been idle while you were leashed to Asgard.”

  He watched Sif rise, casting him a sly smile as she took the Trickster with her from the hall. It seemed she did not even care enough to be jealous of Athena, now that she had Loki to satisfy her. “No, I do not suppose they have.”

  “Thor.” Athena’s hand tightened on his arm, her fingers digging into the muscle and drawing his attention. He glowered at her, but her expression stopped him. She looked gray with stress and worry, lines fanning out from around her eyes that had not been there before. “They are calling for Eve’s death.”

  Thunder cracked so loud overhead the rafters shook, a rain of dust falling from the ceiling. “The Covenant—”

  “Makes room for sanctions against another god or goddess, if it is agreed to in Council. But Adam and Eve are not part of the Council, and the angels refused to take part in the agreement when it was made. She has no defense.”

  His eyes burned, and the headache he had thought ferocious before became blinding. Or perhaps that was the lightning, hazing his vision. “She has done nothing wrong, made no threat to any of us. She does not even know we live! What reason could they possibly give for this?”

  “Loki argues her very presence is a threat. And if she does learn of us, she might choose to give herself to Adam. The two of them together, and the godchild they might create will unmake the world, destroying every living thing upon it, and with a god of that power laying claim, we will be fortunate to escape with our lives. He says it is the only way to protect our people.”

  Thor sneered, rising to his feet. “Loki argues, does he? And his silver tongue serves him well, I am sure, no matter how offensive the lie.”

  “Thor,” Athena’s tone held caution, her nails biting into his skin. “If you lose your temper now, lash out blindly—”

  “Not blindly,” he said. “No, I would not miss the sight of it for anything after all I’ve suffered. Have you any idea how long I’ve wondered why Odin tolerated that filthy cur? But I see, now. I see exactly what purposes he serves, and I have had enough. The Covenant that binds us will be honored in letter as well as spirit, whether that is my father’s will or not!”

  He shook off Athena’s hand, and ignored her call for him to calm, to see reason. He’d had enough of reason, enough of wisdom, for it had only brought him to this place, leashed like a dog to his father’s throne. If Odin wished him to remain in Asgard, so be it. But Thor would not stand by and let them strip him of his honor, too. He would not let Loki, Sif, or Odin use the relationships he had built for the Aesir for ill-purpose. He had a right to extract payment for the insult and dishonor, and he would do so now.

  Thor shouldered his way past his brothers, past his sons, snarling at their questions and concerns. Of course it did not stop Baldur from following, or Athena, her pale face even whiter still, but he did not care. It was better to have witnesses, besides. Baldur would defend his right to justice, and what Baldur judged fair, no Aesir would argue. Not even Odin, though he might still punish Thor for disobedience of some kind.

  As long as he silenced the Trickster before he spread more lies about Eve, it would be worth it.

  “Loki!” he bellowed, thunder rumbling beneath the word. He knew where they would be. No god could have failed to notice after all these years. And even Sif was not foolish enough to bring the Trickster back to the cottage, now that Thor spent his nights at home.

  The god was lounging in the courtyard of his hall with a group of women, Sif and Sigyn among them. Servants darted in and out from the kitchens bringing food and drink to Loki’s guests. Unlike the Aesir, Loki did not care for the cold, and had built an external hearth in his garden. A fire burned low, now, for the sun was still warm. Until Thor covered it with storm clouds.

  Loki did not rise, but smirked and raised his mug. “Thor, what a surprise. Sigyn, my love, find some mead for the Odin-son. As much as he can drink!”

  Sigyn rose lazily from her position, draped against his chest. “Of course, husband.”

  Thor did not watch her go. That any goddess had found the Trickster worth marrying,
and could suffer his infidelities thereafter, was beyond his capacity for understanding. As it was, Sigyn seemed to do little else beside wait on her husband.

  Sif smiled at him, her fingers playing in Loki’s hair. “Husband, how kind of you to join us.”

  “Kindness has little to do with you, I promise.”

  “Pay him no mind, Sif. Thor is blustering because we found his mistress at last. His honor demands he make threats until I am cowed.” Loki smirked, but still did not move to dislodge Sif, and nor did she stir, though her skirts were in clear disarray, the Trickster’s hand on the bare skin of her thigh.

  Lightning crackled behind his eyes, but he banked his fury, letting his anger cool into the calm of anticipation. Loki would pay for his insults today, and the knowledge settled his temper nicely. “You will stop spreading your lies by treading on my honor, Loki.”

  “All in good fun, Thor. You can hardly deny me this smallest of entertainments, when you run about the world fathering children and taking lovers as you please. Though I should have thought you had better taste, Athena. Or is Thor the sexless wonder you’ve been waiting for?”

  Baldur shifted uneasily, behind him. “It is unwise to say such things, Loki, of any god.”

  “No, brother, let him go on. Let him continue to perjure himself, so there can be no doubt by any who witness that my response is justified.” Thor hefted a hammer that had been left beside the fire. No doubt Loki had been attempting to smelt and forge, tired of having to trade with the other pantheons for metal arms, now that there were no dwarves to work for them.

  “Perjure myself? Do you deny you took a wife during the exile we shared on earth?” Loki grinned. “I suppose I couldn’t blame you if you were only practicing your arts, knowing that when you returned to Sif’s bed you would have to live up to my skill.”