The chariot-wheels rumbled like thunder. The-Goat-That-Gnashes-His-Teeth
and The-Goat-That-Flashes-His-Teeth struck out fiery sparks from their
gold-shod hoofs. So came Loki and the Strong-One into Jotunheim.
While they were yet a long way off, Thrym heard them coming and laughed
exultantly.
“Much wealth have I!
Many gifts have I!
Freyja, methinks, is all I lack!”
he sang; then he called out to his followers, “Giants, arise and spread
the embroidered cloths over the benches. Freyja comes to be my bride.”
The servants tumbled over each other in wild excitement. Some covered
the seats and the walls with embroidered tapestries. Some strewed fresh
straw upon the floor. Others scoured the shields and brought in the
tables and set forth the massive golden dishes.
Just as twilight was falling, the chariot thundered into the courtyard.
When he saw Freyja’s robes and Freyja’s jewels, it never occurred to
Thrym to doubt that it was really Freyja under the veil. He took the
bride’s hand and led her to her seat, laughing exultantly and singing
his boastful song:
“Much wealth have I!
Many gifts have I!
Freyja, methinks, was all I lacked!”
Then he ordered the food to be brought in, and invited every one to help
him keep his wedding-feast.
When they began to eat, it was a wonder that Thor’s appetite did not
betray him the very first thing. Either he was so hungry that he did not
care what they thought, or else he forgot that he was pretending to be a
dainty lady. Besides all the cheese and the curds and the honey, he ate
seven whole salmon and one whole ox, and after that he drank three
barrels of the sweet spicy mead. Loki pinched him under the table as a
sign for him to stop, but he only growled in his beard and ate one
salmon more.
Thrym’s eyes grew as big as milk-bowls.
“Saw I never such a hungry bride!” he exclaimed, pushing back to stare
at her. “Saw I never a bride eat so much! Saw I never a maid drink so
much mead!”
At that, even Thor was a little alarmed, for if the giant king should
discover them before they got the hammer, not only would their plan fail
but they would lose their lives into the bargain. He could think of
nothing to answer, however, so he sat silent. Lucky was it for him that
Loki always had his wits about him.
The Sly-One answered quickly, “Hungry is Freyja, thirsty is Freyja, for
nothing has she eaten or drunk for eight days—so much did she long to
come to Jotunheim.”
Thrym’s look of surprise changed to one of complacency.
“Is it so indeed!” he exclaimed, and finished his supper very
pleasantly.
But by and by he became so pleased with his bride that he wanted to kiss
her. Before Thor could hinder it, he reached out his great hairy hand
and pulled at the veil. It slipped aside just enough to disclose Thor’s
furious, fiery eyes.
The giant king sprang back the whole length of the hall.
“Why are Freyja’s eyes so sharp?” he cried. “It seems that fire burns in
her eyes.”
By this time, the Strong-One was so angry that I think he hardly cared
what happened. Lucky was it for all the folk of the sky that Loki was
there to answer for him.
The Sly-One spoke up quickly, “Sharp are Freyja’s eyes, fiery are
Freyja’s eyes. She has not slept for eight nights, so much did she long
to come to Jotunheim.”
“Is it true indeed!” said Thrym, much flattered that his bride had been
so eager to come to him. And he came back and sat down beside her and
looked at her affectionately.
Finally the time came for the giving of the bridal gifts. An old sister
of Thrym came and bowed low before the bride.
“Give from your hand the golden rings if you desire friendship of me,”
she demanded, “if you desire friendship of me—and love.”
Because he was determined that he would never give her anything but a
blow, Thor answered nothing whatever. Thrym feared that his bride was
offended by the questions he had asked, so he hastened to do something
to appease her.
He called to his servants, “Bring me the hammer to please my bride.
Place the hammer on the lap of the maid. Wed us together in the name of
Var.”
Thor’s heart laughed within him when he saw his beloved hammer drawn out
of its hiding-place and borne toward him. But he sat as stiff as a
stick. Until his hand grasped it, there was still danger. Nearer they
came with it. Nearer—and all unsuspecting, they laid it upon his knee.
Then at last Thrym learned how the cleverness of the sky-people
surpassed his cleverness. Thor’s mighty hand closed upon the handle; he
threw back the veil; he leaped to his feet. His terrible eyes blazed
upon them as his arm flew back to strike.
Once! and Thrym fell dead at his feet. Twice! and the old giantess lay
beside her brother. Again and again and again—until the whole race of
giants were felled like a forest of towering trees.
Thus came Odin’s son again by his hammer.
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