Chapter V

After accepting Loki's profuse thanks, Kevan MacGreene went on his way, feeling virtuous for having performed such a good deed. It did occur to him that he should have recommended a few good programs for Loki, perhaps one or two of a spiritual nature, but he decided against turning back to correct it. There was a possibility that a god might resent being instructed by a mere mortal.

Kevan walked rapidly along the broad path he discovered and it wasn't long before he arrived at what Loki had called the first station--although in reality it was little more than a thatched hut. Kevan entered and soon composed the two messages which he wanted to send to Thor and Odin. He handed them over to the old man who ran the station and almost immediately two ravens darted from the hut. Kevan retired to a corner to await their return, but much to his surprise he had barely seated himself when the ravens were back.

Impressed by the service, Kevan toyed with the idea of learning more about the method, thinking that it might be knowledge he could take back and sell for a reasonable price to the various telegraph companies. But he dismissed this as probably being unfair to Brian Shanachie.

While the answers were brief and to the point, it seemed that both Odin and Thor would be happy to see the mortal ambassador. After some dickering with the old man who ran the ravengraph agency, which involved handing over his wristwatch, Kevan received a horse and instructions on how to reach Odin's local castle. As he rode off, the old man was holding the watch to his ear and nodding in time to the rhythmic ticking.

It was a pleasant ride over the rolling hills of Asgard, and Kevan soon arrived at the huge, sprawling castle. The guards evidently expected him, for he was immediately shown into the throne room of the chief of the gods.

Odin, bald-headed and gray-bearded, slouched on his throne and regarded his visitor with interest. It was a mutual attitude, with Kevan finally deciding that Odin must be something of a local character. There were two ravens seated on his shoulders and they seemed to be constantly whispering in his ears. On either side of the throne a gigantic wolf was crouched. Except for his costume, Odin reminded Kevan of an aging Hollywood producer ready to have his picture taken for the press. But, of course, he permitted none of this disrespect to show in his manner.

Kevan delivered a carefully-rehearsed speech, in which he praised Odin's great knowledge, then fell silent.

Odin nodded, as though agreeing with all the points made. "And what are your plans now, mortal?" he asked.

"I thought of visiting Thor," Kevan said.

"My son?" the old god asked, blinking in astonishment. "Why should you visit him? You seem interested in knowledge. I'm afraid you'll find my son rather dull company. Or were you planning to ask for a thunder license?"

"I want to challenge him to answer three riddles," Kevan said. "If he fails to answer them, then I will claim his daughter, Thrud."

"Thrud, eh?" Odin said. A crafty look came into his eyes. "If it's only a matter of a woman, why not stay here and expound your riddles. I'll let you have one of the Valkyries. It'll be a much better bargain. They are all quite skilled in the arts of love and Thor is rather strict with Thrud so she may be a little too innocent for a man of the world such as yourself."

"No, it must be Thrud," Kevan said, deciding there was no use in defending the purity of his own intentions.

"Jaded appetites, eh?" the old god said, shrugging his shoulders. "What riddles are you going to try on my son? Perhaps I can advise you."

"I'm sorry, sir," Kevan said, "but I'd rather not say. You know the old saying, 'the walls have ears'?"

"Of course they do," Odin said a trifle impatiently. "They're battle trophies. I removed every single one of them myself."

At first, Kevan thought the god might be a little mad, but then he realized that the walls of the throne room were indeed covered with ears. And not very attractive ears at that. "No, no," he said, averting his eyes, "I meant that someone might overhear the riddles and tip off Thor."

"And he wouldn't be above using the information," Odin agreed. "Well, I'll tell you what--I'll ride you over to Thor's."

"I wouldn't want to trouble you," Kevan began, but was stopped by a wave of Odin's hand.

"No trouble. After all, we seldom have visitors here. I wouldn't want it said that Odin lets visitors just wander off by themselves--maybe even be eaten up by a stray dragon. Besides, I wouldn't mind seeing that son of mine taken down a notch or two." He looked pleased at the prospect.

* * * * *

The mention of dragons was enough to keep Kevan from protesting further. Within a few minutes, he was again mounted on his horse while Odin rode beside him. As they galloped through the gate, they were joined by a dozen of the Valkyries. These beautiful young women, their charms not sufficiently concealed by the armor they wore, immediately began casting covetous glances at Kevan. He was careful to ride close beside Odin.

Their arrival at Thor's castle, Belskirnir, was filled with confusion for Kevan. The palace was swarming with various lusty gods, their wives, mistresses and children. He was introduced to so many that he could remember the names of none. He did, however, catch the name of Thrud when he was introduced to a shapely blonde girl, with a sullen face. He managed to whisper to her, telling her who he was and the purpose of his errand, whereupon the sullenness fell from her face. The result was so startling that Kevan found it difficult to remember that he was there on behalf of Alviss.

It seemed that they were just in time for a banquet and Kevan found himself forced to go through what seemed like a hundred course meal, consisting mostly of half-cooked venison, and so many cups of mead that his head was swimming.

Kevan had tried several times to get Thor's attention to bring up the matter of his challenge, but found it almost impossible to make himself heard above the roar of voices in the banquet hall. But the matter was finally settled for him by Odin, whose curiosity could no longer stand the strain.

"Quiet," shouted the chief of the gods, leaping to his feet. He struck the table a mighty blow with his hand, causing the mead cups to jump and spill. "Silence!" He waited until the shouting and talking died down. "The mortal who is our guest would like to challenge my son, Thor, on three riddles."

Thor looked up from the head of the table, but there was no evidence of pleasure in his face. He was dressed in a peasant costume and Kevan had secretly decided that the costume was an affectation.

"I'm not interested in riddles," Thor grunted. "I know enough of them anyway."

"Well, I am," retorted Odin. "So you'll accept the challenge or I'll take the thunder concession away from you and give it to Sif."

There was a burst of laughter from around the table and Thor frowned. He didn't really care about the thunder concession, but if it were taken from him and given to his wife, the symbolism would be one he'd never live down. "All right," he growled. "Where is this mortal?"

"Here," Kevan said, standing up. He had expected to be nervous but the mead had bolstered his courage. "But there's more to the challenge. If you fail to answer two of the three riddles then I get to take Thrud away with me."

"You mean you want to marry her?" Thor asked, scowling.

"No," Kevan said. The sudden silence that followed made his ears burn, but he was afraid to explain more fully. If Thor knew that there was a chance that Alviss might finally triumph over him, there was a possibility he would brook his father's anger. So Kevan ignored the knowing glances and kept quiet.

"That's the trouble with you mortals," grumbled Thor. He cast a quick glance at his father and decided not to risk arguing about it. "All right, I agree," he said reluctantly. "What do you pay, if I answer the riddles?"

Kevan was taken aback. "I--I hadn't thought about that," he admitted.

"Well, think about it," Thor snapped. "I have it. If I answer your riddles, you'll stay here as my personal goatherd."

* * * * *

Kevan had gone too far to back down, so he nodded. He thought, a little ruefully, that the next job of Troubleshooters, Inc. might be to rescue a former agent turned goatherd. It also occurred to him that perhaps Brian Shanachie didn't bother rescuing agents, but he pushed the thought away.

"Okay," he said, "here is my first riddle." He'd finally decided on a first riddle which he suspected was too old, but it was the weakest of his three and he wanted to get it over with. He cleared his throat and began: "What we caught, we left behind; what we brought, we cannot find."

Thor's expression of worry vanished and he burst out laughing. "I learned that one so long ago," he roared, "that when I first knew it, it went: Hos' helomen lipometha, Hos' ouk helomen pherometha. The answer is a flea."

Kevan MacGreene nodded, feeling the first pangs of fear. It suddenly dawned on him that he had little business pitting wits with a god--even a discarded one--and he could only hope that his next two riddles were new enough. In terms of mortal life they too were old; it was so difficult to tell what was new for a god.

"Here is my second riddle," he said nervously. "I have an apple I can't cut, a blanket I can't fold, and so much money I can't count it." If Thor guessed this one, he was finished.

There was a long silence. Kevan sneaked a glance at Odin and the older god's puzzled expression gave him more confidence than Thor's frown.

The silence stretched into minutes.

"Enough of this," shouted Odin. "Give up, you idiot, so he can tell us the answer."

"All right," Thor said sullenly. "I give up."

Elation flooded over Kevan. "The apple is the sun," he said, "the blanket is the sky, and the money is the stars." He grinned happily at the expression of rage on Thor's face. "Here's my third and last riddle," he said. "A long white barn, two roofs on it, and no door at all, at all." He almost held his breath as he waited.

Thor looked around the table as though he thought someone there might know the answer and signal him. But the other faces were as blank as his own.

"By Gimli," shouted Odin, "I think he's got you, son. And a good thing, too. It's high time that daughter of yours was getting out and learning a thing or two. Go on--confess you're licked."

His face red with anger, Thor nodded.

"It's an egg," Kevan said triumphantly.

The other gods around the table leaped to their feet and slapped Kevan on the back in token of victory. He had just started to take a drink of mead, however, and the result was that he choked.

* * * * *

Before Kevan could stop choking, the door to the banquet hall broke down. A horse and rider came through the door, the horse rearing and plunging, scattering gods before it. An armored god was astride the horse, swinging a short-handled axe in his right hand.

In a minute all of the gods were on their feet, shouting. It was Odin who quieted them with a bellow that shook the rafters. "Well, Hermod?" he asked as the others quieted.

"It's Ragnarok," the newcomer shouted. "Loki is on his way, with Jormungandr, Fenris, Hel, Garm, and the Hel-brood. To battle!"

The gods shouted in response and before Kevan had a chance to ask a single question, the banquet hall was emptied. Only Kevan MacGreene still sat at the table, staring at the door through which they had all rushed.

"Better not to get mixed up in any strange fights," Kevan said to himself, remembering something his father had always told him. He got up from the table and left the room.

Some fifteen rooms later, he found Thrud and told her of his success. She nodded, smiling.

"I am ready," she said. "I was sure that anyone Alviss sent would succeed. Where is my father?"

"They all rushed out to battle," Kevan said. "I didn't catch the details, but I expect it's just some local argument. Maybe we'd better hurry before your father returns and changes his mind."