THE god Freyr was busy enough in the summertime when the sun shone upon the earth and everything bloomed and blossomed under his untiring care; but when winter came there was no work for him to do in orchards or meadows, and he grew restless from the long enforced idleness. So one day when Odin was away on some necessary journey, Freyr strolled idly through the golden streets of Asgard, and wished that he might sometime be taken as a companion when Odin went wandering among the dwellings of men. He wondered whether there was any spot in Asgard from which he could look down and see what was going on in the earth, and the longing grew very strong to see where Odin had gone.

There was one place which commanded a view of all the world, but Freyr did not dare to think of usurping it, for Odin’s throne was held so sacred that no other god had ever ventured to set foot there. Dismissing this thought from his mind, Freyr wandered restlessly about from one marble hall to another, but getting nearer each moment to the great gold throne, until at last he stood directly before it. A long time he hesitated, thinking of the punishment that might fall upon him if Odin suddenly returned; but finally the desire to see all the kingdoms of the earth grew too strong to be resisted, and Freyr boldly stepped into Odin’s sacred seat.

He gave a gasp of wonder and delight as his eyes travelled quickly over the wonderful panorama of earth and sky that lay spread out before him. Far away to the north stretched ice-encircled JÖtunheim, whose snow-capped mountains reached up into the clouds. Still farther away lay the Land of Mists with its chill fogs, reaching out toward Muspelheim. The earth itself, which Freyr knew so well, looked wonderfully fresh and new when seen from this exalted place; and he felt that he himself would never weary of watching over the affairs of men, if only he could occupy Odin’s seat.

He did not care to rest his gaze very long on frozen JÖtunheim, for there was nothing in that dreary country to attract the beauty-loving Freyr; but as he chanced to look at a tall old castle standing on the top of one of the wind-swept hills, he saw the door suddenly open. Then a maiden appeared on the threshold, and Freyr gazed upon her with surprise and delight, for she seemed too beautiful to belong to the grim race of giants.

She stood a moment in the doorway, a very embodiment of warmth and youth and light; and when the doors at length closed behind her, Freyr felt that all the brightness had gone out of the world. Never before had he seen any maiden whom he wished to make his wife; but here in the land of the frost-giants he had found one whose loveliness already made him thrill at the mere thought of her.

He descended slowly and sadly from Odin’s throne, and began to wander aimlessly about Asgard, more restless and unhappy than before he had taken that unfortunate glance toward JÖtunheim. For many days he roamed through the marble-pillared halls, seeking some distraction to make him forget the golden-haired maiden whom he loved; but always his thoughts turned toward the castle on the wind-swept hill, and he longed—till he grew sick with longing—for a sight of the giant’s daughter.

One day his trusted servant Skirner asked him why he looked so sad; so Freyr told him of his longing for the golden-haired maiden, and of how he had watched her from Odin’s throne. Then Skirner offered to make the journey into JÖtunheim at once, and do his best to woo the giant’s daughter for his master. So Freyr gave him his swiftest horse, and filled his hands with rich gifts, and finally girded upon Skirner his own sword, which he promised to give to the wearer if the mission should be successful. Then he bade Skirner ride with all speed northward. As fast as the faithful horse could carry him, Skirner hurried toward the giants’ country; and when the setting sun threw the long, black shadows of the hills across the snow-covered ground, he crossed the last of the fiords that lay at the edge of JÖtunheim. Then a short, hard gallop over the frozen ground brought him to the foot of the castle where the giant Gymer lived with his beautiful daughter. As he neared the gates, two enormous dogs sprang at him, barking furiously; and it was with difficulty that Skirner guided his horse well out of their reach. Not far away was a shepherd leading his flock to the scanty pasturage; and Skirner, riding slowly up to him, asked how he might be able to enter the castle.

“What do you seek here?” inquired the shepherd. “No stranger ever comes to Gymer’s hall.”

“I wish to speak with the giant’s daughter,” replied Skirner.

The shepherd shook his head. “It is safer to have speech with Gymer than with the beautiful Gerd,” he said. Then, looking kindly at the horse and rider, he added, “If you are wise, you will not go too near the castle gates, but call aloud her name, and perchance she may come to answer you.”

So Skirner called loudly to the maiden until the hills reËchoed to the name of Gerd; and the giant’s daughter listened to the cry, wondering who the stranger might be that would dare to use her name thus boldly.

Angry, and yet curious to see who stood without the castle, Gerd threw open the great hall doors; and at the sight of her the two fierce dogs stopped howling and lay quiet at her feet. Then Skirner came boldly to the maiden’s side and begged her to listen to his story. As the laws of hospitality prevailed even in JÖtunheim, the beautiful Gerd bade him enter; and when they were seated by a great fire in the hall, Skirner told the maiden how Freyr had seen her from Odin’s seat and had loved her with a passion that would surely kill the once-joyous god unless she consented to become his wife.

Gerd listened coldly to the speaker’s words, and his impassioned pleading left her unmoved. When Skirner finally spoke of taking her at once with him to Asgard, she cried angrily, “Go back to your master and tell him that though he should die for love of me, Gymer’s daughter will never wed with one who is the enemy of her race.”

Then Skirner brought out a wonderful ring and many costly gems—the gift of Freyr—and offered them to Gerd; but she haughtily refused to touch them.

“You cannot tempt the daughter of Gymer with gold,” she said. “I have plenty here in my father’s palace.” Failing in this, Skirner drew his sword—the coveted blade which he hoped to win for himself by the success of his mission—and flashing this before the maiden’s eyes he swore by the spear of Odin that he would kill her if she would not consent to wed with Freyr. But Gerd only laughed at his threats, and looked unmoved at the glistening steel.

“Keep your sword to terrify mortal maidens, or those who sit spinning in the halls of Asgard. The daughter of Gymer knows no such thing as fear,” she said.

As neither gold nor threats could move the beautiful Gerd to listen to his master’s suit, Skirner tried his last resource; and, calling upon all the powers of earth and air and water, he pronounced a terrible curse upon the maiden for her coldness to the unhappy Freyr. “May the sun never shine without bringing pestilence upon your land, and may each day add some trouble to those which already burden you. May sickness throw its blight upon you, and loathsome diseases render your beauty hideous. May old age lay its hand on you before youth is over, and may you sit lonely and desolate among your barren hills. May all the good things of life turn to gnawing pains until you are glad to pray for death. So shall there be no peace for you in all the world for having spurned the love of Freyr.”

At first the maiden paid no heed to these fearful words; but soon they seemed to weave a sort of magic spell about her. She trembled, and her beautiful face grew pale with fear. Suddenly she stretched out both white arms to Skirner, crying, “Does Freyr indeed love me so deeply that he can invoke all the powers of the earth to curse me for not wedding him?” Then Skirner told her how great his master was, and how truly the curse would be fulfilled if she hardened her heart against the love of Freyr. And as she listened to the speaker’s eager words of praise, the heart of Gerd was touched and she gave Skirner her promise to become Freyr’s wife.

“Though,” she added sadly, “it is strange indeed for Gymer’s daughter to wed with a god.” Skirner tried to persuade her to return with him at once to Asgard, but she said, “Go back to your master and tell him that I will meet him nine days hence in the groves of Bar-isle.”

So Skirner mounted his horse again and rode away from JÖtunheim. Though the journey back to Asgard was as long and hard as his coming had been, it seemed to him to be far less wearisome; for the horse shared his rider’s gladness and galloped more lightly over the frozen ground, and the woods looked no longer as if peopled with dreadful shapes and shadows. When Skirner neared Asgard he saw far in the distance Freyr standing by the rainbow bridge eagerly watching for his messenger’s return. The impatient god did not wait, however, until horse and rider came close enough for him to see the gladness on Skirner’s face; but, believing that his servant had been unsuccessful, since he rode alone, Freyr turned sadly away. He did not even wish to speak with the man who had done him so great a service; but thought only of the loss of Gerd.

Then Skirner spurred his faithful horse till its hoofs struck fire from the hard stones beneath; and when the gates of Asgard were reached, he rushed eagerly in search of Freyr to tell him of Gerd’s promise. The god’s face was lit with a great joy as he heard that his love was to be rewarded, and that Gymer’s beautiful daughter was willing to become his wife.

The nine days of waiting seemed very long to the impatient lover; but at last the time came when the sun shone as it had never shone before, the trees blossomed—although it was still winter—and flowers bloomed along the path that led to the groves of Bar-isle. Then Freyr, full of the glad spirit of youth and love and springtime, went gayly to the trysting place; and there beneath the newly leafing trees stood Gerd, more beautiful by far than when he had seen her standing in her father’s halls.