Freya stood beside me, her blue eyes were bright with unshed tears as she watched them silently remove Frey's body and lay it gently upon a big shield, I put my arm around the woman comfortingly. But she did not weep now. The Viking strain was too strong in her. Though her red lips quivered, she watched steadily as the Aesir warriors lifted the shield that bore Frey's body.
We started back toward Asgard, following the warriors bearing the shield. Thor, Freya, the warriors and I walked slowly behind, leading the horses. We reached the promontory at the end of Midgard. When we started over the incredible, unrailed stone span of Bifrost Bridge, the sea was washing loud a thousand feet below us. And as we marched, the Aesir warriors behind us struck their sword-hilts against their shields in a clanging funeral rhythm.
Up the arch of the Bifrost Bridge we paced to the slow, sorrowful rhythm of that clanging. In the castle which guarded the Asgard end of the bridge, the great gates swung open for our entrance. And from the tower above the gates, we saw Heimdall blow a long, law, mournful note on the great Giallar horn.
So we passed in the brightening sunrise through the gates into Asgard, ringed round by the castles of the Aesir nobles perched upon the cliffs, dominated by the huge pile of Valhalla. Inside the gates, a hastily gathered group of the Aesir met us.
Odin was foremost. The strong, stern face of the Aesir king grew taut and strange. His eyes clouded darkly as he saw the burden upon the shield.
"So Frey had fallen to the evil of Loki and his familiars," Odin muttered. "Now I know that Wyrd stoops low over us. The Norns spin out the end of their threads for many in this land."
"Frey and I did all we could to prevent the release of Loki, lord Odin," I said. "But we failed."
"You could not succeed," Odin said broodingly. "It was written that Loki would be loosed. How soon does he come with the Jotuns against Asgard?"
"Tomorrow," I answered. "And he will be armed with his storm-cones to loose tempest and lightning on us."
"We must prepare a defense," Odin declared. "Now bear Frey's body to his castle."
Chapter XIV
Thor's Oath
Our solemn little procession wound across Asgard, through the streets of stone houses, past great Valhalla castle. We moved miserably toward the castle on the eastern cliffs where Frey and his line dwelt. As we approached its entrance, the lady Gerda stood waiting to meet us. The lovely face of Frey's wife went pale as she saw the stiff figure on the shield. But she did not falter.
"My lord comes home for the last time," she said quietly in the deep silence. "Bring him in."
Gerda walked beside us, her eyes fixed on Frey's dead form, as we entered the castle. We took him into the great hall of the castle, a high-roofed, big stone chamber. There the shield that bore his body was laid across wooden trestles that had been hastily procured.
I tried to speak a word of consolation to Gerda, and could not. Her strange eyes seemed not to see any of us, but remained fixed on her dead husband. She had seated herself in a chair by the body. With hands folded in her lap, she stared wordlessly. Freya plucked my arm as I stood, swaying from exhaustion. The woman's eyes were bright with tears.
"We cannot soothe her grief, Jarl Keith," she whispered. "And you are weary to the soul. You must sleep."
"Aye, sleep," boomed Thor, his heavy voice rumbling ominously. "For tomorrow we shall need every arm in Asgard."
I let thralls lead me to a small chamber in the castle. Hardly had I flung myself upon its hide bed when I was sinking into a slumber of utter physical and nervous fatigue. My dreams were troubled. Again I seemed to be facing Loki's beautiful face and the snarling wolf Fenris. Again I saw Frey confronting the venomous Midgard snake. And again, like a dim echo from far away, the dying gasp of Frey reverberated in my brain.
"I see Loki riding in fire and storm to destroy Asgard — I see the Aesir dying—"
I awoke with a shuddering start. The sun was setting. I had slept through the day. A thrall had touched my shoulder to awaken me.
"The lady Freya bade me rouse you. It is time for the lord Frey's funeral."
I hastily donned my mail coat and helmet and buckled on my sword. Then I went down to the lower floor of the castle, and looked into the hall that was now growing dusky with twilight. Gerda still sat exactly where I had left her. Hands folded unmovingly, her lovely face was a strange, immobile mask as she looked at the body of Frey upon the shield.
Freya touched my arm. The woman had donned her own short mail tunic and helmet. Again she was the warrior-maid I had first met. Her white face was composed.
"We give Frey burial now, Jarl Keith," she said. "The shield-bearers come. You should be one of them."
Thor, dark-faced, brooding-eyed Tyr the berserk, and sad, noble-looking young Forseti had entered. We entered the hall where Gerda watched her dead.
"It is time, lady Gerda," said Thor softly.
"That is well, " she said in a calm voice.
We lifted the shield that bore Frey's body. Carrying it high upon our shoulders, we paced slowly out of the castle, Freya and Gerda following.
The gloom of early dusk layover Asgard. A strong wind blew keen and cold from the northwest, wailing around the lofty cliffs. Warriors in companies of hundreds waited outside, clad in full armor. As we passed through them, they took up their place behind our cortege. They marched after us, striking their sword-hilts against their shields in that clangorous dirge.
We wound along the edge of the cliff to the stair that led down to the fiord. At the head of the stair, on the cliff-edge, were gathered Odin and his lady Frigga, old Aegir and Ran, Bragi and all the other Aesir nobles.
"Farewell, Frey," said Odin. "You have gone first into the shades, but others follow soon."
From the warriors who had followed us, from all the Aesir-folk, echoed that solemn sorrow.
"Farewell, lord Frey!"
Now we four started down the steep and narrow stair that was chiseled from the cliffside. Only Gerda and Freya followed us. The wind blew in great gusts, booming and moaning around the cliffs in the twilight. Thus we came down to the deep, narrow fiord in which floated the long dragon-ships of the Aesir. Among them, Frey's ship stood ready to give him Viking burial. It was trimmed and stacked with wood, and a low, broad wooden platform had been built amidships.
We stepped aboard and laid the shield that bore Frey's body upon that platform. Thor put Frey's sword in the dead hand. Then Frey's black horse was led into the bow of the ship. Tyr's dagger flashed, and the horse fell dead.
"Now all is ready," Thor rumbled.
We stepped back onto the shore.
"All is not yet ready," said Gerda calmly.
She stepped past up to the platform where her husband lay. When she looked down at him, her lovely face was strangely happy.
"For long," she said quietly, "my lord has lived with me at his side. He could not go on this journey into the dead without me."
Before any of us could move, she drew a dagger from her robe, and sheathed it in her heart. We watched rigidly as she fell upon the platform. Her golden hair fell across Frey's dead face.
Freya broke into wild sobbing and clung to me. We stared in horror and pity, but Thor lifted his great hammer in salute.
"Skoal to the lady Gerda!" he rumbled. "She goes proudly to death with her lord, like a true Viking."
Tyr slashed the mooring of the ship. Then he took a waiting torch from a socket, and tossed it into the resinous wood with which the ship was filled. The pile blazed up with a crackling roar, casting a red, quivering light through the deepening twilight. We bent our shoulders against the stern. The ship of death forged out on the heaving waves. Then, as the wind took its raised sail, it sprang forward like a thing alive.