The Feast in AEgir’s Hall.
It happened long ago, when the good folk at Gladsheim were wont to visit
the mid-world oftener than now. On a day in early autumn Queen Ran,
with her older daughters,--Raging Sea, Breaker, Billow, Surge, and
Surf,--went out to search for plunder. But old AEgir staid at home, and
with him his younger daughters,--fair Purple-hair, gentle Diver, dancing
Ripple, and smiling Sky-clear. And as they played around him, and kissed
his old storm-beaten cheeks, the heart of the king was softened into
gentleness, and he began to think kindly of the green earth which
bordered his kingdom, and of the brave men who lived there; but most of
all did he think of the great and good Asa-folk, who dwell in Asgard,
and overlook the affairs of the world. Then he called his servants,
Funfeng and Elder, and bade them prepare a feast in his gold-lit hall.
And he sent fleet messengers to invite the Asa-folk to come and partake
of the good cheer. And his four young daughters played upon the beach,
and smiled and danced in the beaming sunlight. And the hearts of many
seafaring men were gladdened that day, as they spread their sails to the
wind; for they saw before them a pleasant voyage, and the happy issue of
many an undertaking.
Long before the day had begun to wane, the Asa-folk arrived in a body
at AEgir’s hall; for they were glad to answer the bidding of the
Ocean-king. Odin came, riding Sleipner, his eight-footed steed; Thor
rode in his iron chariot drawn by goats; Frey came with Gullinburste,
his golden-bristled boar. There, too, was the war-like Tyr, and blind
Hoder, and the silent Vidar, and the sage Forsete, and the hearkening
Heimdal, and Niord, the Ruler of the Winds, and Bragi, with his harp;
and lastly came many elves, the thralls of the Asa-folk, and Loki, the
cunning Mischief-maker. In his rude but hearty way old AEgir welcomed
them; and they went down into his amber hall, and rested themselves upon
the sea-green couches that had been spread for them. And a thousand
fair mermaids stood around them, and breathed sweet melodies through
sea-shells of rainbow hue, while the gentle white-veiled daughters of
the Ocean-king danced to the bewitching music.
Hours passed by, and the sun began to slope towards the west, and the
waiting guests grew hungry and ill at ease; and then they began to
wonder why the feast was so long in getting ready. At last the host
himself became impatient; and he sent out in haste for his servants,
Funfeng and Elder. Trembling with fear, they came and stood before him.
“Master,” said they, “we know that you are angry because the feast is
not yet made ready; but we beg that your anger may not fall upon us. The
truth is, that some thief has stolen your brewing-kettle, and we have no
ale for your guests.”
Then old AEgir’s brow grew dark, and his breath came quick and fast;
and, had not Niord held the winds tightly clutched in his hand, there
would have been a great uproar in the hall. Even as it was, the mermaids
fled away in great fright, and the white-veiled Waves stopped dancing,
and a strange silence fell upon all the company.
“Some enemy has done this!” crier AEgir, as soon as he could speak.
“Some enemy has taken away my brewing-kettle; and, unless we can find
it, I fear our feast will be but a dry one.”