While working on my novel, which involves ancient gods manifesting themselves here on Earth in modern times, I’ve had occasion to rewrite some of the ancient myths which lie behind many of these gods. This is to help the divinities to make more sense to modern readers.
There have been other books which place the old gods in more modern settings. Neil Gaiman’s American Gods is a good example. The gods are given contemporary garb and are in competition with newer gods. For younger readers there is the Percy Jackson series. I choose to keep the gods in their traditional roles but have their legends reflect modern discoveries. For example Ouranos (better known to snickering teens everywhere as Uranus) is an ancient Titan Who is millions of years old but in the story has already Transcended so He’s not seen in the novel, only mentioned.
Rewrites of myths are nothing new. In ancient times, such stories were originally told orally and would be altered to suit the audience listening to the tales. There was no centralized religious doctrine which would have standardized the legends.This is why you often see more than one origin for a god. Dionysus is most commonly portrayed as the son of Zeus by a mortal woman called Semele. But other stories have Him as the son of Persephone by Zeus, an origin which no doubt raised a few eyebrows as Persephone was the daughter of Zeus by Demeter Who happens to be a sister of Zeus.
The God Dionysus
Athena no longer springs full grown from the head of Zeus. Instead she is the daughter of Metis who was an earlier wife of Zeus. As a young goddess, She watches Her parents quarrel and become estranged over the War with the Titans, which Metis advised against. After Metis’s warnings are borne out by the massive disruption of global ecosystems and human societies which was the end of the Ice Age, She quits Her throne in disgust and Transcends which is when Hera becomes the new consort of Zeus.
Minor tales come in for a rewrite as well. The Graeae sisters were originally portrayed as immortal beings sharing one tooth and one eye between Them. This odd characteristic is thought by some to indicate that the single eye and tooth may have been a source of oracular powers. Since the stories have long since become detached from the cultures they were a part of, these details have lost whatever meaning they had. I rewrote the story in the following manner.
The Graeae were daughters of Ceto and Phorcys Who were sea gods. When They were born, the Graeae had Their teeth but possessed no eyes, only empty sockets. Their mother Ceto went to the god Hephaestus, asking the Master Craftsman of the gods if He would create eyes for Her children so They could see. Hephaestus crafted a set of eyes for each of the sisters and all was well for a while. But the sisters got careless with Their eyes, playfully swapping them around or juggling them. This eventually resulted in the eyes being lost or broken one by one until the Sisters had only the one eye left. When Ceto returned to Hephaestus for replacement eyes, He was infuriated over how carelessly His creations had been handled and refused to make new ones. So, to this day, the Graeae must make do with the one eye.
Hephaestus
The gorgons have a similar jumble of tales. In one, only Medusa has the power to turn Her victims to stone, the result of having violated the sanctity of one of Athena’s temples by having sex with Poseidon, which angered Athena, Who changed the once beautiful woman into a hideous monster. Other tales have three gorgons, Stheno, Euryale and Medusa, all born hideous with snakes for hair. Of the trio, only Medusa is mortal and can be killed, though no explanation of why she was mortal was given. I amended this by writing all three were immortal, but Perseus was given the great Harpe sword by his father Zeus. The Harpe sword is portrayed as a divine weapon, able to slay divinities as well as mortals and it was this he used to destroy Medusa.
Harpe sword of Zeus
Lastly comes Odin. Legends portray Him and His brothers as having killed Ymir, a primeval androgenous being, said to be the first giant. The divine siblings then dismember Ymir and create the world with His body parts. This has been rewritten as Ymir still being an ancient giant but living in already existing world. One of His roles was leader of the Wild Hunt. When He finally Transcended, He turned over control of the Wild Hunt to Odin, Who’s been conducting it ever since. And what exactly is the Wild Hunt? Well, it’s not what you might think.
Writing about characters who are gods includes noting something about their backgrounds. A problem which quickly crops up is that how the ancients viewed their divinities doesn’t really sit well with modern audiences. Zeus with His endless peccadillos and Hera (who’s His sister!) as the perpetually jealous spouse is one example. The late poet Robert Graves pointed out that one of the functions of myth is to justify an existing social system so the ancient myths say far more about the ancient Greeks than they do about the gods Themselves.
The simplest solution is of course rewrite the myths so they are more palatable for today’s readers (and make a little more sense). The tale of Semele, Dionysus’s mother, asking to see what Zeus’s true form was and getting fried as a result, with Dionysus subsequently being incubated in Zeus’s thigh has been changed to her dying in childbirth and Zeus’s son being given to Silenus to foster. The image of Athena popping full grown out of the head of Zeus after He swallowed Her mother Metis just to evade the prophecy of Her giving birth to a son that might overthrow him always seemed to have an element of the absurd about it. So I gave that a major rewrite in the following section from my book in progress.
……………………………..
They were known by many names; the Moirai, the Parcae, the Sudice, the Norns. They existed in a place that was not a place, in the Otherworld yet not of it. Seated on a great dais suspended in the Otherworld mists, looming even mightier than the primeval Titans, They sometimes had the appearance of males but the majority of the time They were female, either taking the form of young or old women. An colossal tapestry inched its way out from Their hands, colors both worldly and unworldly spun with inconceivable intricacy, stretching out into the amorphous distance, even beyond Athena’s ability to see. So They had been weaving even before the beginning of time. They drew out thread, wove, adjusted, rethreaded and snipped implacably, seldom speaking, never stopping. When She came into Their presence, They rarely acknowledged Her.
It was a conceit of humans that the Moirai governed every moment of each human’s life from birth to death. To a certain extent that was true but Their constant weaving and reweaving ensured the coherence of the ever shifting universe. Because of that, mortals could freely choose the course of their lives within the confines of the laws of the material realm. Events affecting both mortals and divinities went into the tapestry, creating a pattern so complex even Athena for all Her wisdom could not fathom it. In Her early efforts to probe the essence of the Fates work, She once had a vision of the mighty tapestry reaching out into the measureless distance, merging with other tapestries woven by other Fates forming a thread which still mightier Fates took and wove with yet other threads into vaster tapestries in Their turn.
She had begun a tapestry of Her own in the hopes of counteracting Her Brother’s actions. But She had to be careful it did not work to cross purposes to anything the Moirai were creating. Sometimes She could catch a brief glimpse of the underlying harmony contained withing Their weavings. It finally occurred to Her that anything She did would simply be incorporated into Their own work. Better to save Her worries for what Her half-Brother meant to do. But She couldn’t shake Her anxiety.
“I weave to derail His plans.” She said, more to Herself than the Moirai. “But I have to be careful not to counteract what You are doing. He’s so certain what He’s doing is right. He doesn’t understand that events work themselves out of their own accord. It doesn’t need to be pushed or manipulated. We only need to work with what happens.”
The Moirai continued Their work on the endless tapestry, seemingly oblivious to Her. But She suspected They were listening. Her Father said They heard everything. At one time He had stood where She did, attempting to consult Them. He had returned with a scowl on His face. Either They never answered Him or the answer was not to His liking.
But Zeus had gone ahead with His War against the Titans so many ages ago certain He was doing the right thing, Her Mother Metis pushed aside when She attempted counseling against it. The schism this created between Them never healed. Athena watched sadly as Her Mother quit Her throne and left Olympus eventually Transcending, leaving Her Helmet, Shield and Great Owl for Her Daughter. The chaos set off by the overthrow of the Titans and the ending of the Golden Age took several millennium to stabilize. Hera became new co-ruler of Olympus with Zeus but the peace of the Golden Age was gone, replaced by a brittle calm. It would not always remain this way. There were Great Cycles within Great Cycles. The ancient harmony of old would return but in its own time and way. Her Brother’s efforts to rush it based on the signs He was convinced were there would only prolong the Age of Iron, not end it.
“He won’t listen.” She said quietly. “I’m the voice of the past. He thinks His is the future. What can I do to ensure His failure?”
She hadn’t expected any response from the Moirai. But one of the veiled figures, Clotho, suddenly turned towards Her and threw a spool of thread to Her. Although startled, She caught the spool deftly.
“Use or do not use. It is Your choice.” It was Atropos the Unturning Who spoke. The enormous figure resumed Her snipping and re-threading. It was the first time Athena had heard more than two words from any of Them.
The thread was darker than night. The spool would have fit in the hand of a human but was so heavy a half dozen would have been needed to lift it. Athena shuddered when She looked at it. Thread this dark could only have one purpose. But the Moirai said it would be Her choice. With the constant morphing of the vast tapestry under Their hands, nothing was truly carved in stone. Did this mean She could still turn events? She felt a scowl not unlike Her Father’s beginning to furrow Her brow. She relaxed Her face. Her father had no doubt received a similar enigmatic answer which would have infuriated Him. He preferred certainty to ambiguity. But Athena was more comfortable with uncertainty. She tucked the spool into her pouch.
Do not use. That would be Her goal. Stubborn like Their Father, Dionysus would plow ahead. Her task was to stymie his actions with so many obstacles, His plans would fall apart. Turning, She left the place which was not a place, through the Otherworld, back to Her pavilion, where a great loom awaited. She had the warp threads strung. Now for the weft. She pulled yarn out of the great ball beside Her seat. After hesitating, She took out the spool of black thread and after looking at it a moment, set it down beside the ball of yarn. Just in case. She thought. Just in case.
A few weeks ago I posted a fragment
of the novel I’m working on. We saw some of the gods both opposed and
in favor of the god Dionysus and His actions. Here is part two.
…..Launching Himself into the air,
Coyote streaked towards the south. Once He was gone, Manannan shifted
Himself to the Otherworld and entered the quiet park where Athena was
busy working over Her loom.
“Coyote saw Takannaaluk give Dionysus
two pieces of Ares’ Armor, the greaves.”
“I suspected as much. The yarn just
took on a darker color while I was weaving.” Athena paused in Her
work and scowled at the Tapestry. “I’ll have to adjust my strategy
a little.”
“Takannaakuk isn’t the only one who’s
sympathetic to Dionysus. I’ve spoken with a few minor divinities Who
hope for a chance to ride on His coattails, as humans say.”
“And I’ve spoken to some who either
prefer remaining neutral, waiting to see which way the wind blows or
refraining because They have no ability to fight.” replied Athena.
Manannan watched as She plucked out a few threads and adjusted a few
more. She then sat back and surveyed the results. The son of Lir
thought the pattern looked good but given the complexity of what
Athena was weaving, He knew that might be deceptive. The sound of two
ravens croaking outside the pavilion drew Their attention. A figure
in a ragged cloak and drooping hat approached, His shoulders sporting
two sleek ravens.
“I for one will no longer remain
neutral.” Said Odin, stepping into the pavilion. “Indeed, I
regret now not adding My voice to Yours when You tried to dissuade
Him.”
“What made you change your mind?”
asked Athena.
“I finally cast the Runes to see what your brother’s rise might portend. What I saw wasn’t good. It makes me wish I had Transcended with the others. Ragnarok was a myth created by humans but if your brother continues to rise unopposed, it will likely become reality.”
“Enough have told me They loathe my
brother and intend to fight Him that I fear you are right,
All-Father. Right now They are too busy arguing among Themselves as
to who should lead the battle. While They squabble, my brother grows
stronger. It will make the battle that much harder for Them.”
“Some of Them approached me asking if
I would conduct the Wild Hunt against your brother. I refused Them of
course. The Wild Hunt is not meant for warfare but is only done out
of the most dire necessity, when negative energies have built up to a
catastrophic level and need to be safely discharged. It hasn’t
reached that point – yet.” Odin’s single eye flared in anger. “Any
one of Them could have struck down Dionysus when they had the chance
but didn’t bother because They held Him in so much contempt. Now They
realize Their mistake and are scrambling to make battle plans.”
“Dionysus knows this, which is why He
searches for the Armor. He has no fighting ability but the Armor
would make him nearly indestructible. If only Ares had come willingly
instead of being dragged kicking and screaming by my Father into the
Otherworld, I would have been able to get the Armor in my possession.
Then it would have been a simple matter to give It to Pele or
Sethlans to melt down once and for all. There’s no other Armor which
comes close to what Hephaestus forged. Only Sethlans approaches Him
in ability and He has already indicated He stands against Dionysus.”
“Hmph! I can’t picture Ares willingly
Transcending.” said Manannan. “He might have given you an
argument on what to do with that Armor. What finally did happen to
Him?”
“Ares refused to Transcend and
attacked Zeus in an effort to break His power so He could return to
the ordinary world. Our Father slew Him with Artemis’s Bow and
Arrow.” replied Athena, heavily. “Dionysus saw all this and never
forgot it. That’s why He searches for the Armor. He fully expects me
to make a strike against Him as Father did against Ares.”
Odin’s ravens suddenly began croaking
loudly and Athena’s owl bristled its feathers as it spread its beak
in a fierce hiss. The three gods turned to look at what approached.
At first all that could be seen was a
black shadow moving along the cobblestone path. But as it drew near,
the gentle light given off by the the pavilion began to illuminate
it. Mannanan sensed Odin shudder and heard Him mutter in a low voice.
“…And I thought Hela was ugly….”
She Who walked the path was evidently
sharp eared enough to hear Him, for a dry rattling laugh floated
towards them.
“Yes, I am no beauty, All-Father.
Death is often ugly especially to those never touched by it.”
She was hideous. Dressed in a blood red
robe thrown back revealing Her skeletal body, She clutched a scythe
in one bony hand and a sack brightly decorated with colorful skull
patterns in the other. She did have some flesh, tendons and ligaments
holding Her form together. Two shriveled breasts dangled from Her
near fleshless chest. Scarlet orbs burned in the depths of Her eye
sockets.
“Mictecacihuatl?” Even Athena
seemed uncertain about the identity of their visitor now standing at
the foot of the pavilion.
“Santa Muerta, they call Me now.”
“One of the Aztec gods?” Said
Manannan. “I thought you all perished in the Catastrophe.”
“Not all. Most of My brethren lost
coherence when Their followers died from disease and genocide but a
few of Us managed to cling to existence when populations stabilized.
It was a good though bitter lesson for Us, not to base all Our power
on the sacrifices the mortals used to make to us. Now my power begins
to grow once more.” Her dry chuckle sounded again. “Death is a
constant after all. And the devotion of My new followers has become
important to Me. However your half-brother threatens that. He brings
the danger of chaos which could wipe out what gains I have managed to
make. You should have killed and flayed Him when you had the
opportunity, Athena.”
“That…is not My way.” replied
Athena, a wry twist momentarily appearing on Her mouth. “I prefer
strategy to brute force.”
“As You will.” replied Santa Muerta
with a shrug. “However I have brought something which might help
out Your strategy.”
So saying, She opened the sack She held
and dumped out its contents. Two golden gauntlets fell to the ground.
Mannanan stepped forward and took them up, bringing them to Athena.
“I thank you.” Said Athena gravely.
“May I ask how you managed to come by them?”
“They were found by some tomb robbers
who attempted to melt them down for the gold. When the gauntlets
failed to melt, they became frightened and brought them to a follower
of mine, an up and coming drug lord. He fancies himself the next
Pablo Escobar and dabbles in the occult. He saw at once their
otherworldly nature and presented them as a gift to Me after
summoning Me in a ritual. The offering pleased Me, so needless to
say, his affairs will be prospering in the future.”
Manannan wondered what kind of ritual
would draw such a one as Santa Muerta, but decided it was better not
to ask. As one who slipped regularly between the Otherworld and the
ordinary realms, He often helped guide the confused spirits of those
who had just died on their transition into the Afterlife, seeing His
efforts as a benefit to humans. But He never ruled over any of the
realms of the Dead such as Arawn, Hela and their visitor did. While
many of these realms were pleasant and comforting to those who had
passed, some were dark and fearsome, reflecting the nature of the
souls who had fallen into them. Given the frightful appearance of
Santa Muerta, She likely ruled one of these latter realms.
“So far only the outer parts of
Ares’s Armor have been found.” Said Odin. “It’s the Helm and
Cuirass, the main parts of the Armor that concern Me. Have no sign of
them been seen?”
“Not by I.” replied Santa Muerta.
“But a soul I recently collected had a memory of seeing golden
armor such as you mention when he was in the Middle East. Whether it
belonged to Ares or was simply mortal armor was impossible to
determine. Regrettably he could not recall where exactly he had seen
it. The trauma of his death was too great to retain the memory.”
“Athena, there’s so much violence
and turmoil in that place, so much so that it makes Me wonder.”
said Manannan. “Would the Armor cause any of that?”
“No. Human warfare is self-generated.
What’s happening there is the result of ordinary human meddling. The
Armor would not affect that. Its energies are passive in nature. So
unfortunately We can’t use it as a barometer for locating the
remaining fragments.”
“I will question some of the other
souls who have arrived in My realm.” Said Santa Muerta. “Because
many who come to Me have died by violence, their memories are often
fragmented. But a few do arrive intact so I will see if any who
visited that region have any memories which might help You.”
Santa Muerta turned and left the same way She came. Athena’s owl finally smoothed its feathers and Odins’ ravens who had quietly grumbled the whole time She was present, fell silent.
“An unorthodox ally.” remarked
Manannan.
“She helps us for Her own reasons.”
answered Athena. “In Her own grim way, She promotes harmony as She
knows it in the realm that is Her proper domain. She shepherds the
souls who enter her realm rather than torment or devour them as
demons would. She doesn’t try to remake worlds to suit Her taste.”
“But She might try to extend Her rule
to other Underworlds.” said Odin. “More than a few are empty of
any ruler. I know Hades has Transcended and so have a few Others. If
no one assumes command of these places other than a few pitiful
demons trying to raise Themselves up, She will likely expel Them and
take on rulership Herself. She bears watching, I think.”
“Perhaps.” replied Athena. “But
that’s a concern for the future. My brother is the great worry now.”
“True enough.” replied Odin,
straightening. He lifted the two ravens off His shoulders and sent
them flying in opposite directions. “I will return to Asgard and
watch for further developments. Some of the Others may see an
opportunity for advancing Their own agendas so We will need to beware
of that. I don’t know about You but I don’t really want any more
surprises.” So saying He exited the pavilion and vanished.
“I’ll go to New York City and do a
little spying for You.” Said Manannan. “That seems to be where
Dionysus is centering His activities.”
“I agree.” nodded Athena. Then Her
lips curved in amusement. “By the way, did You make good use of
those porcupine quills I gave You?”
“I did, Great Avatar of Wisdom.” Grinned Manannan happily. “I most certainly did.”
The
above text is not carved in stone by any means and I may rewrite
parts of it. The process of writing is for the most part inspiration
rather than anything planned. As new ideas bubble up, the preceding
words will be edited or deleted. Sometimes I don’t even know what I’m
going to write until I actually sit down and start typing. Stay
tuned.
Divinities both great and small populate the pages of the novel I am working on. They are not portrayed as all powerful but they are definitely Beings to be reckoned with. Dionysus drives the action of the story which shows the effects of what He does both on mortals and on other gods. His goal is to usher out the Age of Iron and bring in the new Age of Gold, completing a primeval cycle and starting a new one. His ambition is to be head of the Gods of that new age just as His father Zeus commanded the ages previous to that. As you might imagine, some of the current gods take exception to this but others welcome His actions. Below is some sample text. I’ll post the second half in a few weeks.
Dionysus stood on a stony shore of
Baffin Bay waiting. It was a bleak isolated spot, unspoiled by human
habitation. Grey hills sprinkled with snow loomed around Him. While
the air was chilly, the ice that normally filled the bay was gone,
sea birds skimming the waters. Low hanging dark clouds spitting sleet
and fat raindrops came and went. A pale gray arctic fox paused and
stared at Him, then seemed to shrug its furry shoulders and went
along its business. The carcass of a polar bear lay yards away from
Him, a flock of skuas, ravens and other scavengers feeding on it. A
few seals popped up in the waters and dove back under, their faces
momentarily having a human look. But the face He was watching for was
neither a seal’s nor human.
He saw Her finally, surfacing and
swimming in His direction. She slowly heaved Her massive body up onto
the stony beach, a sack clutched in Her teeth. Black wet braids
trailed along the ground. Her face had sacred markings tattooed on
her dark skin . Short stubby fingers on Her front flippers gripped at
the stones as She pulled Herself close to Dionysus and dropped the
sack before Him.
“I only found the greaves.” Spoke
Takannaaluk in a thick echoing voice. “I had the fish search for
other parts but if there are other surviving pieces of Your Brother’s
armor, they have not fallen into My domain.”
“This is actually more than I hoped
for. Ares journeyed through all the mortal realms, avoiding our
Father who insisted it was time to fully transition to the
Otherworld. I’m not sure why He broke the Armor up and scattered it,
unless it was to spite Zeus.”
“You best hope He didn’t drop any in
Pele’s domain. She would have made short work of them in Her
fire-pits.”
“If She finds them, She certainly will. But breaking the Armor up as He did makes it impossible to detect the pieces unless you are right on top of them.”
“True enough.” replied Takannaaluk.
“I only chanced on the greaves after I had sunk a fishing trawler
for violating sacred waters. Their nets had accidentally snagged them
from the sea bed.”
“I thank you for contacting me.”
said Dionysus, removing the greaves from the coarse woven sack. They
gleamed a brilliant gold but the metal was Otherworldly in Its
hardness. Hephaestus never did second rate work if He could help it.
“What reward do you wish for your assistance?”
“Only that you put an end to the vile
creations of humans that devastate My ocean. Their disgusting
plastics, the nets which will not break down catching the innocent in
their mindless grip. The huge boats with their stinking oils,
poisonous radiation and endless streams of waste of every sort. I
will be many centuries cleaning up after them.” Her voice grew
mournful. “The many animals whose like will not be seen again; the
Sea Cows, the Great Auks, the mighty whales who dwindle every year.
Fah! If all the humans died, I would gladly celebrate their
extinction. But you’ll want worshipers, I suppose.”
“Most gods do. But the number of humans will be greatly reduced. And I will teach them to honor our Mother Earth. You’ll be glad to hear I’ve already decontaminated many radioactive sites including a few underwater. It will take some time to eliminate them all but Gaia will be cleaner for it.”
“That sounds like a good start.
Manannan mac Lir showed up recently at the borders of my domain
warning me of the hazards of aiding you. I thought He had His nerve,
telling me what I should or shouldn’t do. He’s not the god His father
was, but Lir moved into the Otherworld long ago. Now there was a sea
god! His son can’t hold a candle to Him. I threatened to eat Him if
He kept bothering me. So He left.” Takannaaluk smiled grimly, Her
razor sharp teeth gleaming. “If He thinks the humans are so
wonderful, let Him be the one to clean up their messes.”
“There are many Who cling to the old
order of things, my Sister among them. But times have changed. It’s
clear the Age of Iron has reached its end point. If the Golden Age is
to have a clean start, it’s necessary to wipe out the artifacts of
the Iron Age. But I expect a good deal of resistance to that and not
just from the Lesser Ones. Humans will fight tooth and nail to keep
things the way they are, even if it does reduce Mother Earth to a
waste land. They will certainly pray to their gods for assistance.”
“I wish them good luck with that!”
snorted Takannaaluk. “Many of Them have either gone to the
Otherworld or stopped listening to Their followers because the humans
think they themselves own the world and can do whatever they want. If
they pray at all, it’s only when it’s an emergency and they want
something. They’ve forgotten that it’s a partnership, that they must
give if they wish to receive. Teach them that if you teach
them anything.”
“I will.” replied Dionysus, placing
the greaves back in the pouch and slinging it over His shoulder.
“Keep your ears open and let me know if you hear rumors of where
the other Armor parts may be.”
“I shall.” said Takannaaluk. She heaved Her bulk around and crawled back into the ocean. Dionysus Himself vanished in a spray of golden light.
A raven, swallowing gobbets of meat
from the dead polar bear, watched with a beady eye until He was sure
the two gods had disappeared. Then leaving the carcass to the other
scavengers, He flew into the air and headed towards Ireland with a
speed far greater than any ordinary bird could achieve.
On the northwest coast of Ireland,
Manannan sat on the grassy hillside above the Arranmore Lighthouse,
whittling a large chunk of driftwood, the sound of crashing surf off
in the distance. His reddish brown beard and mustache were neat in
appearance. His dark hair, held in place with a headband, flowed over
his shoulders. He wore a homespun shirt delicately embroidered with
interlaced birds, their legs and wings woven in a complex design, His
dark rugged breeches also homespun. The sea breeze teased a few stray
locks of His beard. Hearing the sea gulls squawk in alarm, He glanced
up. He watched as a raven dove out of the heavens at break neck
speed. Just as it seemed the bird would shatter itself on the
hardscrabble shore, it came up short, changed into a coyote and
approached Manannan.
“Hail Brother.” It cried.
“Greetings, He-Who-Wears-The-Drab-Coat.”
“Well, now.” laughed Manannan.
“It’s been a while since anyone has called me that! So, Brother
Coyote. What news do you bring?”
“Nothing good, I fear.” As He spoke, Coyote took on the form of a human with dusky skin, His face generously coated with bear grease some of which He wiped away and sucked off His finger. He wore buckskin richly decorated with beads and embroidery. “Takannaaluk found the greaves of Ares’ Armor and has given them to Dionysus.”
“I was afraid of that.” Glowered
Manannan. “I suppose it was too much to hope She would heed my
warning.”
“Is it true She threatened to eat
you?”
“She did hint I was a tasty looking
morsel.” Laughed Manannan. “She’s like the other giants; the
Jotnar, Gigantes, Nephelim – all with vast appetites and all very
old. She remembers how it was before humans. If She thinks Dionysus
will bring any of that back with His new Golden Age, then yes, she’s
going to help Him no matter what I tell Her.”
He set down the little wooden carving
He had been working on, a child’s toy rocking horse. Coyote eyed it
with interest.
“Nice. Is a blessed event in the
offing for You and Your Wife?”
“Not that She’s told me. This is for
some humans who live down the way and still put out offerings for the
Good Folk. They’ve been childless a long time but the husband has
been pestering my Wife and Me with prayers so I did an unbinding
charm to open up his wife’s womb. She’ll be giving him the good news
tonight, I think. I’ll leave this on their doorstep. They’ve done
enough good work for the land, they deserve a reward for it.”
“I’ll head down south and visit my
cousin Spider. See if He’s heard any interesting rumors.”
“I’ll go tell Athena about this
latest news. She won’t be happy.”
“Is She ever happy? I don’t think I’ve ever seen Her crack a smile.”
“Of course She smiles and laughs.”
Manannan leaned forward and lowered His voice. “Of course it helps
if a certain Someone would refrain from taking rabbit form and
leaving droppings in that kibble stuff She gives Her owl.”
“Why does everybody look at Me when
stuff like that happens?” Coyote exclaimed, His tone injured.
“Let’s face it, when She has a lot of tricksters around, She has to
expect that sort of thing. Not that I would do anything like
that!”
“Of course not, an honorable fellow
like you?” replied Manannan facetiously. “Just remember She knows
how to get Her own back.”
“Oh? …. Oh!” Coyote’s eyes
widened. “Well, that might explain the porcupine quills in my
sleeping mat last night! Man, I was hours picking those things out.
Ha! That was a good one! Didn’t know the old girl had it in Her.
Well, I’m off!” He shifted back to raven form. “I’ll get a
message to you if I hear anything.”
Launching Himself into the air, Coyote streaked towards the south. Once He was gone, Manannan shifted Himself to the Otherworld and entered the quiet park where Athena was busy working over Her loom.
