While the answers were brief and to the point, it seemed that both Odin and Thor would be happy to see the mortal ambassador. After some dickering with the old man who ran the ravengraph agency, which involved handing over his wristwatch, Kevan received a horse and instructions on how to reach Odin's local castle. As he rode off, the old man was holding the watch to his ear and nodding in time to the rhythmic ticking. It was a pleasant ride over the rolling hills of Asgard, and Kevan soon arrived at the huge, sprawling castle. The guards evidently expected him, for he was immediately shown into the throne room of the chief of the gods. Odin, bald-headed and gray-bearded, slouched on his throne and regarded his visitor with interest. It was a mutual attitude, with Kevan finally deciding that Odin must be something of a local character. There were two ravens seated on his shoulders and they seemed to be constantly whispering in his ears. On either side of the throne a gigantic wolf was crouched. Except for his costume, Odin reminded Kevan of an aging Hollywood producer ready to have his picture taken for the press. But, of course, he permitted none of this disrespect to show in his manner. Kevan delivered a carefully-rehearsed speech, in which he praised Odin's great knowledge, then fell silent. Odin nodded, as though agreeing with all the points made. "And what are your plans now, mortal?" he asked. "I thought of visiting Thor," Kevan said. "My son?" the old god asked, blinking in astonishment. "Why should you visit him? You seem interested in knowledge. I'm afraid you'll find my son rather dull company. Or were you planning to ask for a thunder license?" "I want to challenge him to answer three riddles," Kevan said. "If he fails to answer them, then I will claim his daughter, Thrud." "Thrud, eh?" Odin said. A crafty look came into his eyes. "If it's only a matter of a woman, why not stay here and expound your riddles. I'll let you have one of the Valkyries. It'll be a much better bargain. They are all quite skilled in the arts of love and Thor is rather strict with Thrud so she may be a little too innocent for a man of the world such as yourself." "No, it must be Thrud," Kevan said, deciding there was no use in defending the purity of his own intentions. "Jaded appetites, eh?" the old god said, shrugging his shoulders. "What riddles are you going to try on my son? Perhaps I can advise you." "I'm sorry, sir," Kevan said, "but I'd rather not say. You know the old saying, 'the walls have ears'?" "Of course they do," Odin said a trifle impatiently. "They're battle trophies. I removed every single one of them myself." At first, Kevan thought the god might be a little mad, but then he realized that the walls of the throne room were indeed covered with ears. And not very attractive ears at that. "No, no," he said, averting his eyes, "I meant that someone might overhear the riddles and tip off Thor."