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."