"Thor has seen us and he comes!" Freya exclaimed.
In a few moments, Thor and the Aesir warriors reached us. The horsemen seemed awed by sight of my flying craft.
"Jarl Keith and Freya!" cried the Hammerer, his small eyes joyful as he quickly recognized us. "But where is Frey?"
"Dead," I said bitterly. "Slain in Jotunheim by the poison of the Midgard snake."
Thor looked into the plane at the dead figure, as though unable to believe his ears. He whispered blankly:
"Frey, who has ridden and sailed by my side these many centuries — dead!" Wild rage crimsoned his face and he shook the great hammer Miolnir aloft, "Loki's work! Aye, These are the first fruits of that devil's freedom!"
"Loki prepares to lead the Jotuns upon Asgard," I warned him, "Tomorrow that host of dread evil comes against us, Thor."
"Good! The sooner the better!" He turned to his Aesir warriors, who were still staring awedly at the plane. "Take the lord Frey and place him on a shield. He goes home to Asgard as a warrior should!"
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.