But, alas, for poor Frigg. One little weed, a wee little weed, hidden beneath a rock, she had overlooked. Loke, who had followed closely upon her in all her wanderings through the day, had not failed to notice this oversight of Frigg’s. His wicked face shone with glee. His eyes gleamed; and as the radiant Frigg sped up the rainbow bridge, he hurried away to his home among the Frost giants to tell them of the little weed which, by and by, should work such harm to Baldur, in shutting out his life and light from Asgard and the earth.
The ages rolled on. Every one in Asgard, save Odin, had long ago thrown off the shadow of fear. “No harm can come to Baldur,” they would say; and all save Odin believed it.
But a day came when Odin, looking down into the home of the dead, saw there the spirits moving about, hastening hither and thither.
“Something is happening there in the pale valley,” said Odin. “They are preparing for the coming of another shade. And it must be some great one who is to come. See how great the preparation is they make.”
“We prepare for the coming of Baldur,” answered the shades as Odin came upon them, busy in their work. “We prepare a throne for Baldur. We prepare a throne for Baldur.”
“For Baldur?” asked Odin, his heart sinking. “For Baldur!” chanted the shades. “For Baldur! Baldur cometh! Baldur cometh!”
And Odin, his godlike heart faint and sick at the thought, turned away and went slowly up the rainbow bridge.
There, in the great garden of the gods, he found Thor and Baldur and their brother Hodor playing at tests of strength. Behind Hodor, invisible, stood Loke. In his hand he held a spear.
“Shame upon you, Hodor,” whispered Loke, “that you, the strong and mighty Hodor, cannot overcome Baldur in a test of strength. Baldur may be beautiful and sunny, and he is a great joy to the world; that we know. But what is he compared with Hodor for strength?”
“But the spears will not touch him. See how they glance away. Indeed it is true: Light cannot be pierced.” answered Hodor, good-naturedly.