the biggest mountain they had yet seen. The wind carried away the giant’s words, but Thor seemed to have understood. The goats quickened their pace towards the mountain, whose top hung in cloud.
After a good hour of climbing, Shea began to get glimpses of a shape looming from the bare crest, intermittently blotted out by the eddies of mist. When they were close enough to see it plainly, it became clearly a house, not unlike that of the bonder Sverre. But it was cruder, made of logs with the bark on, and vastly bigger — as big as a metropolitan railroad terminal.
Thjalfi said into his ear: «That will be Utgard Castle. Ye’ll need whatever mite of courage ye have here, friend Harald.» The young man’s teeth were chattering from something other than cold.
Skrymir lurched up to the door and pounded on it with his fist. He stood there for a long minute, the wind flapping his furs. A rectangular hole opened in the door. The door swung open. The chariot riders climbed down, stretching their stiff muscles as they followed their guide. The door banged shut behind them. They were in a dark vestibule like that in Sverre’s house but larger and foul with the odour of unwashed giant. A huge arm pushed the leather curtain aside, revealing through the triangular opening a view of roaring yellow flame and thronging, shouting giants.
Thjalfi murmured: «Keep your eyes open, Harald. As Thjodolf of Hvin says:
All the gateways Ere one goes out
Thoughtfully should a man scan;
Uncertain it is Where sits the unfriendly
Upon the bench before thee.»
Within, the place was a disorderly parody of Sverre’s. Of the same general form, with the same benches, its tables were all uneven, filthy, and littered with fragments of food. The fire in the centre hung a pall of smoke under the rafters. The dirty straw on the floor was thick about the ankles.
The benches and the passageway behind them were filled with giants, drinking, eating, shouting at the tops of their voices. Before him a group of six, with iron-grey topknots and patchy beards like Skrymir’s, were wrangling. One drew back his arm in anger. His elbow struck a mug of mead borne by a harassed-looking man who was evidently a thrall. The mead splashed onto another giant, who instantly snatched up a bowl of stew from the table and slammed it on the man’s head.
Down went the man with a squeal. Skrymir calmly kicked him from the path of his guests. The six giants burst into bubbling laughter, rolling in their seats and clapping each other on the back, their argument forgotten.
«Hai, Skridbaldnir!» Skrymir was gripping another giant on the bench by the arm. «How’s every little thing wit’ you? Commere, I wantcha to meet a friend of mine. This here guy’s Asa-Thor!»
Skridbaldnir turned. Shea noticed that he was slenderer than Skrymir, with ash-blond hair, the pink eyes of an albino, and a long, red ulcerated nose.
«He’s a frost giant,» whispered Thjalfi, «and that gang over there are fire giants.» He waved a trembling hand towards the other side of the table, where a group of individuals like taller and straighter gorillas were howling at each other. They were shorter than the other giants, not much more than eight feet tall. They had prognathous jaws and coarse black hair where their bodies were exposed. They scratched ceaselessly.
Halfway down the hall, at one side, sat the biggest hill giant of all, in a huge chair with interwoven serpents carved on the legs and arms. His costume was distinguished from those of the other giants in that the bone skewers through his topknot had rough gold knobs on their ends. One of his lower snag teeth projected for several inches beyond his upper lip. He looked at Skrymir and said: «Hai, bud. I see you got some kids witcha. It ain’t a good idea to bring kids to these feeds; they learns bad language.»
«They ain’t kids,» said Skrvmir. They’re a couple of men and a couple of ?sir. I told ’em they could come wit’ me. That okay, boss?»
Utgardaloki picked his nose and wiped his fingers on his greasy leather jacket before replying; «I guess so. But ain’t that one with the red whiskers Asa-Thor?»
«You are not mistaken,» said Thor.
«Well, well, you don’t say so. I always thought Thor was a big husky guy.»
Thor stuck out his chest, scowling. «It is ill to jest with the ?sir, giant.»
«Ho, ho, ain’t he the cutest little fella?» Utgardaloki paused to capture a small creeping thing that had crawled out of his left eyebrow and crack it between his teeth.
«A fair arrangement,» murmured Loki in Shea’s ear. «They live on him; he lives on them.»
Utgardaloki continued ominously: «But whatcha doing here, you? This is a respectable party, see, and I don’t want no trouble.»
Thor said; «I have come for my hammer, Mjollnir.»
«Huh? What makes ya think we got it?»
«Ask not of the tree where it got its growth or of the gods their wisdom. Will you give it up, or do I have to fight you for it?»
«Aw, don’t be like that, oku-Thor. Sure, I’d give you your piddling nutcracker if I knew where it was.»
«Nutcracker! Why you —»
«Easy!» Shea could hear Loki’s whisper. «Son of Odinn, with the strong use strength; with the liar, lies.» He turned to Utgardaloki and bowed mockingly: «Chief of giants, we thank you for your courtesy and will not trouble you long. Trusting your word, lord, are we to understand that Mjollnir is not here?»
«’Taint here as far as I know,» replied Utgardaloki, spitting on the floor and rubbing his bare foot over the spot, with just a hint of uneasiness.
«Might it not have been brought hither without your knowledge?»
Utgardaloki shrugged. «How in hell should I know? I said as far as I knew. This is a hell of a way to come at your host.»
«Evidently there is no objection should the desire come upon us to search the place.»
«Huh? You’re damn right there’s objections! This is my joint and I don’t let no foreigners go sniffing around.»
Loki smiled ingratiatingly. «Greatest of the Jotun, your objection is but natural with one who knows his own value. But the gods do not idly speak; we believe Mjollnir is here, and have come in peace to ask it, rather than in arms with Odinn and his spear at our head, Heimdall and his great sword and Ulir’s deadly bow. Now you shall let us search for the hammer, or we will go away and return with them to make you such a feasting as you will not soon forget. But if we fail to find it we will depart in all peace. This is my word.»
«And mine!» cried Thor, his brows knitting. Beside him Shea noticed Thjalfi’s face go the colour of skimmed milk and was slightly surprised to find himself unafraid. But that may be because I don’t understand the situation, he told himself.
Utgardaloki scratched thoughtfully, his lips working. «Tell you what,» he said at last. «You ?sir are sporting gents, ain’t you?»
«It is not to be denied,» said Loki guardedly «that we enjoy sports.»
«I’ll make you a sporting proposition. You think you are great athaletes. Well, we got some pretty tough babies here, too. We’ll have some games, and if you beat us at even one of ’em; see, I’ll let you go ahead and search. If you lose, out you get.»
«What manner of games?»
«Hell, sonny, anything youse want.»
Thor’s face had gone thoughtful. «I am not unknown as a wrestler,» he remarked.
«Awright,» said Utgardaloki. «We’ll find someone to rassle you down. Can you do anything else?»
Loki spoke up. «I will meet your best champion at eating and our man Thjalfi here will run a race with you. Asa-Thor also will undertake any trial of strength you care to hold.»
«Swell. Me, I think these games are kid stuff, see? But it ought to be fun for some of the gang to see you take your licking. HAI! Bring Elli up here; here’s a punk that wants to rassle!»
With a good deal of shouting and confusion a space was cleared near the Fire in the centre of the hall. Thor stood with fists on hips, waiting the giant’s champion There came forward, not a giant, but a tall old woman. She was at least a hundred, a hunched bag of bones covered by thin, almost transparent skin, as wrinkled as the surface of a file.
Thor shouted: «What manner of jest is this, Utgardaloki? It is not to be said that Asa-Thor wrestles with
