Downfall of the Gods Read Online Free

from me.
    Otherwise yes, I’d be ashes by now.” He looked at me down far more nose than any circumstances could ever justify. “You’re pathetic,” he said.
    T HIS BUSINESS OF the Covenant.
    A mortal who thought he was really clever once posed the question; can God create a rock so heavy that he can’t lift it? Clearly he knew nothing about my family. It’s the sort of thing we do to each other all the time. Because to us all things are possible, we get our kicks, and pass the endless, dreary time, creating rocks the others can’t lift; just to spite them, because we can. As witness my father and me. The rock I can’t lift is when he asks me nicely.
    But the Covenant— Do you really think we’d sign up to something that actually restricted us, confined our freedom of choice and action? And for what in return? No, we abide by it because it pleases us to do so. And if it doesn’t please—Well.
    (Pol reckons we abide by the Covenant because, being infinite, at some level we crave containment; for the same reason that, being imperishable, insensitive to cold and heat and definitively waterproof, nevertheless we sleep indoors, under a roof. Among his other titles and portfolios, Pol is God of Wisdom. I think that says it all.)
    “Y OU DO REALISE ,” I said, “that since I got here, you’ve forfeited your right to clemency under the Covenant at least three times. Are you stupid, or what?”
    “Maybe I don’t want clemency.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous.”
    “Maybe I don’t want it from you.”
    I don’t gasp, but if I did, I would’ve. “I think I’ll go away and come back later,” I said. “When you’ve had time to think.”
    “I thought you might say that,” he said. “I expect you’ll leave it right to the very last minute, when they’re putting the rope round my neck.” He yawned. “Play your games if you want to. It’s all right. I know you’ll save me. I have faith.”
    “Do you now.”
    He nodded. “I know you want something from me. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Death, if you want something from me, I know I’ll be just fine. Well? Am I right?”
    “Let’s wait to the very last moment and find out.”
    But he just smiled at me, confident, cocky. Well; it’s not often an immortal gets a chance to try something new. So I decided to be a good loser.
    “It’s all right,” I said. “You’ve made your point. Let’s get down to cases. Yes, I’m prepared to grant you clemency. Your life will be spared. More to the point, the sentence of eternal damnation will be lifted. Suspended, anyway. But there are conditions.”
    He looked so smug, I could’ve sworn we must be related. “Good heavens,” he said. “Fancy that.”
    “You’re going to get another chance. If you can prove that you truly feel remorse for what you’ve done, you will be forgiven and the slate will be wiped clean. If not, you’ll find yourself back here. Do you understand?”
    “Perfectly.” He waited, then folded his hands in his lap and said, “What do you want?”
    A S I LEFT the prison, I tripped over an old beggar sitting on the steps. He was a horrible creature; one eye, one withered arm, one leg missing from the knee down. “Bless you, sweetheart,” he called out—I’d just trodden on his good hand. “God bless you and keep you.”
    The irony appealed to me, so I gave him a coin, one of the two I had on me, and walked on. “Are you mad?” he called out after me. I stopped and turned round.
    “Five gulden,” he said, with the coin lying flat on his outstretched palm. “Have you no idea of the value of money?”
    I sighed. “Dad,” I said.
    He stood up. The absence of his left leg didn’t hinder him. “Five gulden,” he said, “is a fortune to these people, it’s the price of a farm. Even I know that. You can’t just go flinging it around. First thing you know, they’ll have galloping inflation.”
    “I earned that,” I told him. “By the sweat of