“They are the runes of the high magic, the deep wisdom, gathered together from the lore of gods, elves, dwarves, giants and men. With them can one who knows bring help in sorrow and sickness; he can break fetters and blunt a foeman’s sword; he can stop arrows, spells, and fire; he can quell hatred among men and storms at sea; he can make witches flee; he can hearten warriors when their hearts are failing them; he can raise the dead and they will foretell for him what shall come to pass; he can win the love of any maiden—and thus did Odin afterward win the love of skaldcraft; he can know the hidden names of gods, elves, dwarves, and giants; he can know what he will never tell to anyone else.
“So did Odin go beyond death and come back. So did he find the runes. Ever since has the Tree borne the name Yggdrasil, the Horse of the Terrible One, who is Odin. And when men are offered to him it is by hanging, for he is the Lord of the Gallows.”
Hadding stopped. Rain rushed loud. Cross-legged at the little fire, their hands held to it unless the mead was going by, Ketil and Vigleik peered blearily at him through the curdling gloom. His tale had been of such uncanniness that they wanted great swigs from the horn while they listened.
“Well, what then?” Ketil mumbled.
Hadding laughed. “The rest is merrier. Mind you, I heard it from a jotun, who may not have felt as worshipful toward the gods as he should.
“Two brothers does Odin have, Vili and Ve. It was with them that he slew Ymir and made Midgard from the body of the father of giants. Afterward he had taken the lead, and they dwelt aside. Less and less did they like this.
“Now, while he was away and none knew if he would return, they went to Asgard. They said—honestly enough, maybe—that theirs was the right of kingship after him, and ill would the Aesir fare unless they yielded it Indeed, what but lawfulness makes gods different from thursir? Thus Vili and Ve took over the might and riches of their brother, and, yes, his wife Frigg, lady of Fensalir and mother of Baldr the Bright.
“This was what Odin found when at length he had wended the weary road home. With his hard-won new wisdom, he did not want strife in Asgard. The Vanir were still his foemen. Besides, these were his brothers.
“He was the foremost of skinturners. He made himself into a flea and bit the upstart kings, over and over. He made himself into a fly and buzzed around them every dawn. They grew haggard from lack of sleep. When they sat in the high seat before the gods, he was a louse that danced in their beards for all to see, but they could never catch him. He became a worm and burrowed through those apples of Ydun’s, the apples of youthfulness, which were to be Vili’s and Ve’s, making the fruit too disgusting to eat. In all this grief there was nothing of honor. The gods began to laugh. That is worse than hatred.
“When Loki deemed the time ripe, he told Odin to ride into Asgard. ‘Welcome back,’ said Vii and Ve grimly. ‘We have no further wish to dwell in a stead so ill kept and are glad to lay down the burden of it.’ Thereupon they left. Odin has heard no more from them. He took back his lordship and his queen. By his wise words he wrought peace with the Vanir.
“But first, after what Loki had done, Odin swore blood brotherhood with him and gave him a seat among the gods. Already he knew something of what a troublebrewer this was. Yet he owed him much. Also, he thought, the gods might well have use for the cunning and deftness of Laufey’s son Loki.
“And they did. But ever oftener, the woes he helped them deal with were of his own making; and more and more did he wreak sheer evil—”
Hadding went silent. Tired and drunken, Vigleik had fallen asleep, snoring and sprawled on the floor. Ketil nodded heavily and his eyelids sank. “My throat is dry, wet though the evening be,” Hadding said. “Give me another drink.”
“Indeed, fellow Dane,” slurred from Ketil. He reached the horn over. “Hoo, it’s gotten late, no? Vigleik, wake. We’ve a task, don’t we?” He shook the Geat but aroused no answer. “Well, well, a hard day yesterday, we’ve a right to our rest, no hurry, no hurry. Say on, friend.”
There was scant need. Ketil too drowsed off while Hadding told a bit more.
Dusk stole in like the chill. When he was sure both his keepers were deep in slumber, Hadding smashed the horn against the roofpost. It splintered. The shards were sharp. He used them to saw his bonds across.
Groping through gloom, he took a sword and went out the doorway. Nobody else was abroad. A wolf-howl sounded. The but stood hard against the stockade. He clambered up onto its roof and from there sprang over the uprights. His weight thudded softly on earth. Away he loped to the wood.
It was like his homeland with Hardgreip. Night or no, he knew how to go among trees, through brush, around brambles, over deadwood, across quagmires. Nonetheless he went warily, the sword naked in his hand.
That came which he awaited. Something huge lumbered out of the blackness ahead. Branches broke before it and cracked under its weight. He heard it growl, he breathed the rotten-meat breath of it.
No fear was in him as he braced for its onslaught. In the great dim hall Gangleri had chanted:
Leave them behind. Along your way
Soon a monster you meet.
With fang and claw it catches men,
But grip its gristly hide,
Boring your blade into its breast.
Then suck the steaming blood.
Eat of the flesh and all the heart
To straightway gain their strength.
Through your marrow will rush new might,
Enlivening every limb.
I will
