The Complete Compleat Enchanter by Fletcher Pratt, L. Sprague deCamp Read Free Book Online Page B

somehow got the whole thing aboard. Shea was uncomfortably aware that Thjalfi had done three-quarters of the work, but the rustic seemed not to notice.
    With the load in, Shea leaned against one of the shafts, waiting for his heart to slow down and for the aches in his arms and chest to subside. “Now it is to be seen,” said a voice, “that Thjalfi has persuaded another mortal to share his labors. Convenient is this for Thjalfi.”
    It was the foxy-faced Loki, with the usual note of mockery in his voice. Once more Shea’s temper began to rise. Thjalfi was all right—but it did look as though he had talked Shea into coming along for the dirty work. If—Whoa! Shea suddenly remembered Loki’s title—“Bringer of Discord,” and Thjalfi’s warning about his jokes. Uncle Fox would doubtless think it very funny to get the two mortals into a quarrel, and for the sake of his own credit he didn’t dare let the god succeed.
    Just then came a tug at his cloak. He whirled round; Tooth Gritter had seized the lower edge of the garment in his teeth and was trying to drag it off him. “Hey!” cried Shea, and dragged back. The giant goat shook its head and held on while Loki stood with hands on hips, laughing a deep, rich belly laugh. He made not the slightest move to help Shea. Thjalfi came running round and added his strength to Shea’s. The cloak came loose with a rip; the two mortals tumbled backward. Tooth Gritter calmly munched the fragment he had torn from the cloak and swallowed it.
    Shea got up scowling and faced a Loki purple with amusement. “Say, you,” he began belligerently, “what the hell’s so damn funny—” At that instant Thjalfi seized him from behind and whirled him away as though he were a child. “Shut up, ye nitwit!” he flung into Shea’s ear. “Don’t ye know he could burn ye to a cinder just by looking at ye?”
    “But—”
    “But nothing! Them’s gods! No matter what they do ye dassn’t say boo, or they’ll do something worse. That’s how things be!”
    “Okay,” grumbled Shea, reflecting that rustics the world over were a little too ready to accept “that’s how things be,” and that when the opportunity came he would get back some of his own from Loki.
    “Ye want to be careful around them goats,” continued Thjalfi. “They’re mean, and they eat most anything. I remember a funny thing as happened a fortnight back. We found five men that had frozen to death on the moor. I says we ought to take them in so their folks could give ’em burial. Thor says all right, take ’em in. When we got to the house we was going to stay at, the bonder didn’t see as how there was any point in bringing ’em inside, ’cause when they got thawed out, they’d get land of strong. So we stacked ’em in the yard, like firewood. Next morning, would ye believe it, those goats had gotten at ’em and et ’em up. Everything but their buckles!” Thjalfi chuckled to himself.
    As Shea was digesting this example of Norse humor, there came a shout of “Come on, mortals!” from Thor, who had climbed into the chariot. He clucked to the goats, who leaned forward. The chariot wheels screeched and turned.
    “Hurry!” cried Thjalfi and ran for the chariot. He had reached it and jumped aboard with a single huge bound before Shea even started. The latter ran behind the now rapidly moving vehicle and tried to hoist himself up. His fingers, again numbed with cold, slipped, and he went sprawling on his face in the snow. He heard Loki’s infuriating laugh. As he pulled himself to his feet he remembered bitterly that he had made this “journey” to escape the feeling of insignificance and maladjustment that his former life had given him.
    There was nothing to do but run after the chariot again. Thjalfi pulled him over the tail and slapped the snow from his clothes. “Next time,” he advised, “ye better get a good grip before ye try to jump. Ye know what it says in Havámal:

    “ ‘It is better to