"No, it must be Thrud," Kevan said, deciding there was no use in defending the purity of his own intentions.
"Jaded appetites, eh?" the old god said, shrugging his shoulders. "What riddles are you going to try on my son? Perhaps I can advise you."
"I'm sorry, sir," Kevan said, "but I'd rather not say. You know the old saying, 'the walls have ears'?"
"Of course they do," Odin said a trifle impatiently. "They're battle trophies. I removed every single one of them myself."
At first, Kevan thought the god might be a little mad, but then he realized that the walls of the throne room were indeed covered with ears. And not very attractive ears at that. "No, no," he said, averting his eyes, "I meant that someone might overhear the riddles and tip off Thor."
"And he wouldn't be above using the information," Odin agreed. "Well, I'll tell you what—I'll ride you over to Thor's."
"I wouldn't want to trouble you," Kevan began, but was stopped by a wave of Odin's hand.
"No trouble. After all, we seldom have visitors here. I wouldn't want it said that Odin lets visitors just wander off by themselves—maybe even be eaten up by a stray dragon. Besides, I wouldn't mind seeing that son of mine taken down a notch or two." He looked pleased at the prospect.
The mention of dragons was enough to keep Kevan from protesting further. Within a few minutes, he was again mounted on his horse while Odin rode beside him. As they galloped through the gate, they were joined by a dozen of the Valkyries. These beautiful young women, their charms not sufficiently concealed by the armor they wore, immediately began casting covetous glances at Kevan. He was careful to ride close beside Odin.