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."