“Then swear it by my blade.” And Gunnar took the long sword and harness up from the sand where he had left it.
“My people do not swear by the sword.”
Gunnar cursed. “The tongues of your people are like two-edged knives. I have had enough of them. But you are not like them, Odin. I said before that you were a throwback to the men of old-time, when they went berserker together, or followed the whale’s path in their dragon-headed ships. Here, swear by the sword, my sword.”
And Jack Odin reached forward and touched the sword and swore that he would go with Gunnar even to the edge of the stars—
“Now,” Odin pleaded. “Tell me what happened down there.”
“It is a long story. And not a pretty one, either. Have you anything to eat?”
Odin produced some bread and jerked beef. As they sat there, with the coals winking red eyes at them, Gunnar told his tale between wolfish bites.
“Grim Hagen planned well.” (So Gunnar began). “He planned well, and even yet I hope to kill him.
“That was an evil day when you and Maya decided to go back to outer-earth. An evil day. Some of Grim Hagen’s men snared Maya with their thons. There was much fighting. We killed many but many got away.