before I die laughing.»
Shea felt himself seized once more and carried off, face downward in the same ignominious position as before.
* * *
Down — down — down they went, stumbling through the lurid semidark. At last they came to a passage lined with cells between whose bars the hollow eyes of previous arrivals stared at them. The stench had become overpowering.
The commanding giant thundered: «Stegg!»
There was a stir in an alcove at the far end of the passage, and out came a scaly being about five feet tall, with an oversize head decorated by a snub nose and a pair of long pointed ears. Instead of hair and beard it had wormlike excrescences on its head. They moved. The being squeaked:
«Yes, Lord.»
The giant said: «Got a couple more prisoners for you. Say, what stinks?»
«Please, lord, mortal him die. Five days gone.»
«You lug! And you left him in there?»
«No lord here. Snogg say ‘no’, must have lord’s orders to do —»
«You damn nitwit! Take him out and give him to the furnace detail! Hai, wait, take care of these prisoners first. Hai, bolt the door, somebody. We don’t take no chances with the ?sir.»
Stegg set about efficiently stripping Shea and Heimdall. Shea wasn’t especially afraid. So many extraordinary things had happened to him lately that the whole proceeding possessed an air of unreality. Besides, even the difficulties of such a place might not be beyond the resources of a well-applied brain.
Stegg said: «Lord, must put in dead mortal’s cell. No more. All full.»
«Awright, get in there, youse.» The giant gave Shea a cuff that almost knocked him flat and set him staggering towards the cell which Stegg had opened. Shea avoided the mass of corruption at one side and looked for a place to sit down. there was none. The only furnishings of any kind consisted of a bucket whose purpose was obvious.
Heimdall followed him in, still wearing his high, imperturbable air. Stegg gathered up the corpse, went out, and slammed the door. The giant took hold of the bars and heaved on them. There was no visible lock or bolt, but the door stayed tight.
«Oh, ho!» roared the giant. «Don’t the Sleepless One look cute? When we get through with the other ?sir we’ll come back and show you some fun. Have yourselves a time.» With this farewell, the giants all tramped out.
Fortunately the air was warm enough so Shea didn’t mind the loss of his garments from a thermal point of view. Around them the dungeon was silent, save for a drip of water somewhere and the occasional rustle of a prisoner in his cell.
Across from Shea there was a clank of chains. An emaciated figure with a wildly disordered beard shuffled up to the bars and screamed. «Yngvi is a louse!» and shuffled back again.
«What means he?» Heimdall called out.
From the right came a muffled answer: «None knows. He says it every hour. He is mad, as you will be.»
«Cheerful place,» remarked Shea.
«Is it not?» agreed Heimdall readily. «Worse have I seen, but happily without being confined therein. I will say that for a mortal, your are not without spirit, Turnip Harald. Your demeanor likes me well.»
«Thanks.» Shea had not entirely forgotten his irritation over Heimdall’s patronizing manner, but the Sleepless One held his interest more than the choleric and rather slow-witted Thor or the snearing Loki. «If you don’t mind my asking, Golden One, why can’t you just use your powers to get out?»
«To all things there is a limit,» replied Heimdall, «of size, of power, and of duration. Wide is the lifetime of a god; wider than of a thousand of your feeble species one after the other. Yet even gods grow old and die. Likewise, as to these fire giants and their chief, Surt, that worst of beings. I have not much strength. If my brother Frey were here now, or if we were among the frost giants, I could overcome the magic of that door.»
«How do you mean?»
«It has no lock. Yet it will not open save when an authorized person pulls it and with intent to open. Look, now» — Heimdall pushed against the bars without effect — «if you will be quiet for awhile, I will try to see my way out of this place.»
The Sleepless One leaned back against the wall, his eyes moving restlessly about. His body quivered with energy in spite of his relaxed position.
«Not too well can I see,» he announced after a few minutes. «There is so much magic here — fire magic of a kind both evil and difficult — that it hurts my head. Yet this much I see clearly: around us all is rock, with no entrance but the way by which we came. Beyond that there lies a passage with trolls to watch it.
«Can you see beyond?» asked Shea.
«A little. Beyond the trolls, a ledge sits over a pile of molten slag at the entrance of the hall where the flaming swords are forged, and then — and then» — his forehead contracted, his lips moved a trifle — «a giant sits by the pool of slag. No more can I see.»
Heimdall relapsed into gloomy silence. Shea felt considerable respect and some liking for him, but it is hard to be friendly with a god, even in a prison cell. Thjalfi’s cheerful human warmth was missing.
Stegg re-entered the cell hall. One of the prisoners called out: «Good Stegg, a little water, please; I die of thirst.»
Stegg turned his head a rifle. «Dinner time soon, slave.» The prisoner gave a yell of anger and shouted abuse at the troll, who continued down to his alcove in the most perfect indifference. Here he hoisted himself into a broken-down stool, dropped his chin on his chest, and apparently went to sleep.
«Nice guy,» said Shea.
The prisoner across the way came to the front of his cell and shrieked, «Yngvi is a louse!» again.
«The troll is not asleep,» said Heimdall. «I can hear his thoughts, for he is of a race that can hardly think at all without moving the lips. But I cannot make them out. Harald, you see a thing that is uncommon; namely, one of the ?sir confessing he is beaten. But there is this to be said: if we are held here it will be the worst of days for gods and men.»
«Why would that be?»
«So near is the balance of strength, gods against giants, that the issue of what will happen at the
Shea asked: «Why don’t the ?sir
Heimdalj stared at him. «You know not the Law of the Nine Worlds, Harald. We ?sir cannot attack the giants all together before the
He began to pace back and forth with rapid steps, his forehead set in a frown. Shea noted that even at this moment the Sleepless One was careful to place one foot before the other to best display the litheness of his walk.
«Surely they’ll miss you,» said Shea. «Can’t they set other guards to watch the giants get together, or» — he finished lamely at the glint in Heimdall’s eye — «something?»
«A mortal’s thoughts! Aye!» Heimdall gave a short bark of bitter laughter. «Set other guards, here and there! Listen, Turnip Harald; Harald the fool. Of all us ?sir, Frey is the best, the only one who can stand before Surt with weapons in hand. Yet the worlds are so made, and we cannot change it, that one race Frey fears. Against the frost giants he has no power. Only I, I and my sword Head, can deal with them; and if I am not there to lead my band against the frost giants, we shall live to something less than a ripe old age thereafter.»
«I’m sorry — sir,» said Shea.
