"And he wouldn't be above using the information," Odin agreed. "Well, I'll tell you what--I'll ride you over to Thor's." "I wouldn't want to trouble you," Kevan began, but was stopped by a wave of Odin's hand. "No trouble. After all, we seldom have visitors here. I wouldn't want it said that Odin lets visitors just wander off by themselves--maybe even be eaten up by a stray dragon. Besides, I wouldn't mind seeing that son of mine taken down a notch or two." He looked pleased at the prospect. * * * * * The mention of dragons was enough to keep Kevan from protesting further. Within a few minutes, he was again mounted on his horse while Odin rode beside him. As they galloped through the gate, they were joined by a dozen of the Valkyries. These beautiful young women, their charms not sufficiently concealed by the armor they wore, immediately began casting covetous glances at Kevan. He was careful to ride close beside Odin. Their arrival at Thor's castle, Belskirnir, was filled with confusion for Kevan. The palace was swarming with various lusty gods, their wives, mistresses and children. He was introduced to so many that he could remember the names of none. He did, however, catch the name of Thrud when he was introduced to a shapely blonde girl, with a sullen face. He managed to whisper to her, telling her who he was and the purpose of his errand, whereupon the sullenness fell from her face. The result was so startling that Kevan found it difficult to remember that he was there on behalf of Alviss. It seemed that they were just in time for a banquet and Kevan found himself forced to go through what seemed like a hundred course meal, consisting mostly of half-cooked venison, and so many cups of mead that his head was swimming. Kevan had tried several times to get Thor's attention to bring up the matter of his challenge, but found it almost impossible to make himself heard above the roar of voices in the banquet hall. But the matter was finally settled for him by Odin, whose curiosity could no longer stand the strain. "Quiet," shouted the chief of the gods, leaping to his feet. He struck the table a mighty blow with his hand, causing the mead cups to jump and spill. "Silence!" He waited until the shouting and talking died down. "The mortal who is our guest would like to challenge my son, Thor, on three riddles." Thor looked up from the head of the table, but there was no evidence of pleasure in his face. He was dressed in a peasant costume and Kevan had secretly decided that the costume was an affectation. "I'm not interested in riddles," Thor grunted. "I know enough of them anyway." "Well, I am," retorted Odin. "So you'll accept the challenge or I'll take the thunder concession away from you and give it to Sif."