Shea thought a minute. These people probably didn’t use family names, So he said simply, «Harold.»
«Hungh?»
Shea repeated, more distinctly. «Oh,» said Sverre. «Harald.» He made it rhyme with «dolled».
Dressed, except for his boots, Shea took the place on the bench that Sverre indicated. As he waited for food he glanced round the hall. Nearest him was a huge middle-aged man with red hair and beard, whose appearance made Shea’s mind leap to Sverre’s phrase about «the red bear». His dark-red cloak felt back to show a belt with carved gold work on it. Next to him sat another redhead, more on the sandy order, small-boned and foxy-faced, with quick, shifty eyes. Beyond Foxy-face was a blond young man of about Shea’s size and build, with a little golden fuzz on his face.
At the middle of the bench two pillars of black wood rose from floor to ceiling, heavily carved, and so near the table that they almost cut off one seat. It was now occupied by the grey-bearded, one-eyed man Shea had followed in from the road. His floppy hat was on the table before him, and he was half leaning around one of the pillars to talk to another big blond man — a stout chap whose face bore an expression of permanent good nature, overlaid with worry. Leaning against the table at his side was an empty scabbard that could have held a sword as large as the one Shea had noticed on the wall.
The explorer’s eye, roving along the table, caught and was held by that of the slim young man. The latter nodded, then rose and came round the table, grinning bashfully.
«WouId ye like a seat companion?» he asked. «You know how it is, as Hбvamбl says:
Care eats the heart If you cannot speak
To another all your thought.»
He half-chanted the lines, accenting the alliteration in a way that made the rhymeless verse curiously attractive. He went on: «It would help me a lot with the
«Mine’s Harald,» said Shea, pronouncing it as Sverre had done.
«You came with the Wanderer, didn’t ye? Are ye one of those outland warlocks?»
It was the second time Shea had been accused of that. «I don’t know what a warlock is, honest,» said he, «and I didn’t come with the Wanderer. I just got lost and followed him here, and ever since I’ve been trying to find out where I am.»
Thjalfi laughed, then took a long drink of mead. As Shea wondered what there was to laugh at, the young man said; «No offence, friend Harald. Only it does seem mighty funny for man to say he’s lost at Crossroads of the World. Ha, ha, I never did hear the like.»
«The where did you say?»
«Sure, the Crossroads of the World. You must come from seven miles beyond the moon not to know that. Hai! You picked a queer time to come, with all of
To the silent and sage Does care seldom come
When he goes to a house as guest.
Ye’re likely to be in a jam when the trouble starts if ye don’t have protection from one of
He jabbed a finger to indicate the small, sharp-featured man among the four, then went on quickly: «Or are ye a hero? If ye are, I can get Redbeard to take ye into his service when the
«What time? Tell me what this is all—» began Shea, but at that moment Aud and another girl appeared with wooden platters loaded with food.
«Hai, sis!» called Thjalfi cheerfully, and tried to grab a chop from the platter carried by the second, a girl Shea had not previously seen. The girl kicked him neatly on the shin and set it before the late-comer.
The meal consisted of various meats, with beside them a big slab of bread, looking as though it had been cut from a quilt. There was no sign of knife, fork, or any vegetable element. Of course, they would not have table silver, Shea assured himself. he broke off a piece of the bread and bit into it. It was better than it looked. The meat that he picked up rather gingerly was apparently a boiled pork chop, well-cooked and well-seasoned. But as he was taking the second bite, he noted that the shield girl, Aud, was still standing beside him.
As he looked round Aud made a curtsy and said rapidly: «Lord, with this meal as with all things, your wishes are our law. Is there aught else that you desire?»
Shea hesitated for a moment, realizing it was a formula required by politeness and that he should make some remark praising the food. But he had had a long drink of potent mead on an empty stomach. The normal food habits of an American urged him to action.
«Would it be too much to ask whether you have any vegetables?» he said.
For one brief second both the girl and Thjalfi stared at him. Then both burst into shrieks of laughter, Aud staggering back towards the wall, Thjalfi rolling his head forward on his arms. Shea sat staring, red with embarrassment, the half-eaten chop in his hand. He hardly noticed that the four men at the other side of the table were looking at him till the big red-headed man boomed out:
«Good is the wit when men’s children laugh before the ?sir! Now, Thjalfi, you shall tell us what brings this lightness of heart.»
Thjalfi, making no effort to control himself, managed to gasp out: «The. the warlock Harald wants to eat a turnip!» His renewed burst of laughter was drowned in the roar from Redbeard, who leaned back, bellowing: «Oh, ho, ho, ho, ho! Turnip Harald, ha, ha ha!» His merriment was like a gale with the other three adding their part, even the blue-cloaked Wanderer.
When they had quieted down a little, Shea turned to Thjalfi. «What did I do?» he asked. «After all—»
«Ye named yourself Turnip Harald! I’m afeared ye spoiled your chance of standing under Rcdbeard’s banner at the
«But —»
«Ye didn’t know better. Well, now your only chance is Uncle Fox. Ye can thank me for saying ye’re a warlock. Besides, he loves a good joke; the only humorist in the lot of them, I always say. But eating turnips — ha, ha, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard since the giant tried to marry the Hammer Thrower!»
Shea, a trifle angry and now completely mystified, turned to ask explanations. Before he could frame the words there was a pounding at the door. Sverre admitted a tall man, pale, blond and beardless, with a proud, stately face and a huge golden horn slung over his back. «There’s another of
«Who the devil are
«
* * *
The four bearded men nodded welcome to the newcomer. He took his place beside the Wanderer with lithe grace and immediately began to say something to the older man, who nodded in rapt attention. Shea caught a few of the words: «— fire horses, but no use telling you with the Bearer of Bad Tidings present.» He nodded contemptuously towards Uncle Fox.
«It is often seen,» said the latter, raising his voice a trifle but addressing the red-bearded man as though continuing a conversation begun before, «that liars tell few lies when those are present who can see the truth.»
«Or it may be that I have that to tell which I do not wish to have repeated to our enemies by the Evil Companion,» said Heimdall, looking straight at Uncle Fox.
«There are even those,» continued the latter evenly, still paying Heimdall no attention, «who, having no character of their own, wish to destroy all character by assassinating the reputations of others.»
«Liar and thief!» cried Heimdall angrily, bringing his fist down on the table and almost snarling. Shea saw that his front teeth were, surprisingly, of gold.
«Here,» rumbled the large redhead, judicially. «Let there be an allaying of the anger of the ?sir, in the presence of mortals.»
