There was a sob in the squat man's throat and Jack Odin could see by the light of the flickering coals that Gunnar had aged. His face was more seamed. The knots of muscle at each jaw were larger. His hair was gray-streaked and thinner. But those huge shoulders were huger still, and the big gnarled hands kept closing and unclosing as though they were grasping at a throat. "We will go together, then," Odin said. "But tell me--" "Then swear it by my blade." And Gunnar took the long sword and harness up from the sand where he had left it. "My people do not swear by the sword." Gunnar cursed. "The tongues of your people are like two-edged knives. I have had enough of them. But you are not like them, Odin. I said before that you were a throwback to the men of old-time, when they went berserker together, or followed the whale's path in their dragon-headed ships. Here, swear by the sword, my sword." * * * * * And Jack Odin reached forward and touched the sword and swore that he would go with Gunnar even to the edge of the stars-- "Now," Odin pleaded. "Tell me what happened down there." "It is a long story. And not a pretty one, either. Have you anything to eat?" Odin produced some bread and jerked beef. As they sat there, with the coals winking red eyes at them, Gunnar told his tale between wolfish bites. "Grim Hagen planned well." (So Gunnar began). "He planned well, and even yet I hope to kill him. "That was an evil day when you and Maya decided to go back to outer-earth. An evil day. Some of Grim Hagen's men snared Maya with their thons. There was much fighting. We killed many but many got away. "I should have known from the black scowl which Grim Hagen had worn those many months that he would not be stopped by one defeat. You will remember, Odin, how I told you of the little flying machines that we strapped on our backs in the old days and went sailing through the air. They were outlawed. But during the time that Grim Hagen held the tower he must have found the plans for the flying machine, or maybe even one of the machines. For when his men attacked us, each one had such a machine. And each man carried dozens of little glass eggs. When they threw them they exploded and dissolved nearly everything for twenty foot around. "Oh, we fought. We killed many. But it is hard to fight the hawk. One by one they blew up our ships. Then, carrying Maya and a few other prisoners with them, they flew out to sea like a flight of evil birds--no, not birds, for not even the hawk is evil. What was the word that you used for the leather-winged, toothy things that live in the forest?" "Dactyls," Jack Odin prompted. "Yes, that's it," Gunnar said as he stared into the fire. "Dactyls. I like that word. It has an evil, bloody ring to it." He stopped talking to take a huge bite of stale bread that nearly choked him. Then he continued his story.