"Jarl Keith!" she whispered wonderingly.
"Freya," I breathed, "I have never loved any woman before, and I never met you until this day. But now—"
She did not answer me with words. She put her small, strong hands behind my head and drew my lips down again to hers. I felt strangely shaken when I raised my head again. We heard a cough. Frey stood in the pale light near us, regarding us with a half-smile.
"I'll go with my lady Gerda to our castle, kinswoman," he said gently. "No doubt the Jarl Keith would be willing to escort you thither."
When he and Gerda had gone, we followed slowly. My mailed arm was around Freya's slim waist as we walked through the silent, moonlit streets of Asgard. She led me toward the castle on the eastern edge of Asgard. Behind us, Valhalla towered vast and gloomy against the stormy sky. Far to our left gleamed the incredible arch of Bifrost.
"Beloved, I feel armed now against even Loki," whispered Freya happily.
"And I fear only that this is a dream from which I shall awake," I breathed.
We were approaching the dark bulk of the castle that crouched squat and massive on the sheer cliff. A half-dozen blond Aesir warriors were approaching us in the moonlight When they were but a few yards from us, they suddenly drew their swords. Their leader called to them in a fierce undertone.
"That is Freya. She has the key. Seize her, and kill the man!"