The Heroes of Asgard: Tales from Scandinavian MythologyKeary, Annie
General
The Heroes of Asgard: Tales from Scandinavian Mythology
Keary, Annie
Mythology, Norse -- Juvenile literature
Odur was gone, gone back for ever to the home of the Immortals.
Brisingamen and Odur could not live together in the palace of
Folkvang. But Freyja did not know this; she did not know why Odur was
gone, nor where he was gone; she only saw he was not there, and she
wrung her hands sadly, and watered her jewels with salt, warm tears.
As she sat thus and mourned in the entrance of her palace, all the
ladies of Asgard passed by on their way to Valhalla, and looked at
her. Some said one thing, some another; but no one said anything at
all encouraging, or much to the purpose. Frigga passed by last of
all, and she raised her head with a little severe shake, saying
something about beauty, and pride, and punishment, which sank down so
deeply into the heart of the sorrow-stricken young Vana that she got
up with a desperate resolution, and, presenting herself before the
throne of Asa Odin, spoke to him thus: "Father of Æsir, listen to my
weeping, and do not turn away from me with a cruel frown. I have
searched through my palace of Folkvang, and all through the city of
Asgard, but nowhere is Odur the Immortal to be found. Let me go,
Father Odin, I beseech you, and seek him far and near, across the
earth, through the air, over the sea, even to the borders of
Jötunheim."
And Odin answered, "Go, Freyja, and good fortune go with you."
Then Freyja sprang into her swift, softly-rolling chariot, which was
drawn by two cats, waved her hand as she rose over the city, and was
gone.
PART II. LOKI--THE IRON WOOD--A BOUNDLESS WASTE.
The cats champed their bright bits, and skimmed alike over earth and
air with swift, clinging steps, eager and noiseless. The chariot
rolled on, and Freyja was carried away up and down into every part of
the world, weeping golden tears wherever she went; they fell down
from her pale cheeks, and rippled away behind her in little sunshiny
rivers, that carried beauty and weeping to every land. She came to
the greatest city in the world, and drove down its wide streets.
"But none of the houses here are good enough for Odur," said Freyja
to herself; "I will not ask for him at such doors as these."
So she went straight on to the palace of the king.
"Is Odur in this palace?" she asked of the gate-keeper. "Is Odur, the
Immortal, living with the king?"
But the gate-keeper shook his head, and assured her that his master
had never even heard of such a person.
Then Freyja turned away, and knocked at many other stately doors,
asking for Odur; but no one in all that great city so much as knew
her husband's name.
Then Freyja went into the long, narrow lanes and shabby streets,
where the poor people lived, but there it was all the same; every one
said only, "No--not here," and stared at her.
In the night-time Freyja went quite away from the city, and the
lanes, and the cottages, far off to the side of a lake, where she lay
down and looked over into the water.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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