‘I’m sorry for your father’s death. I’ll like to offer you something.’

She took a handful of figs and said: ‘Whatever you offer won’t bring him back. Or lift the shame of his passing.’

Odin smiled. ‘I’ve always found that gold covers shame, if used in sufficient quantities.’ I thought he was looking at Freyja as he said it, but that might have been a trick of the light.

Skadi shook her head. ‘Gold? My father’s hoard belongs to me now. So does his empty castle. Gold won’t buy me company, or make me laugh as they do.’ She looked enviously down the table towards the seated goddesses, all of them beautiful, carefree, at ease.

Odin looked thoughtful. ‘Is that what you want?’

Skadi’s eyes flicked towards Balder. ‘If I had a husband, then perhaps I could learn to laugh again.’

Balder looked distinctly nervous. ‘A husband? Really?’

Skadi said, ‘Yes. If I could choose one of the Aesir . . .’

For a moment Odin considered it. Skadi looked at Balder again. I grinned inside as Golden Boy began to look uncomfortable.

‘Well?’ said Skadi. ‘Is it a deal?’

Odin nodded. ‘All right. As long as this ends the hostility.’

Skadi’s eyes lit. ‘All right. Then I choose—’

‘I’ll let you take your pick,’ he said. ‘But on one condition. We’ll stand all our eligible men behind a screen, with only their feet on display. Then you’ll choose. You’ll choose your husband by his feet. Agreed?’

I stared at him. I mean, really. His feet? What new perversion was this?

But Skadi nodded and said, ‘Agreed.’

I guess she must have been thinking how much you can tell from a man by his feet. Or maybe she wasn’t thinking at all. I’ve seen that look on faces before; that soupy, soft, idiotic look. Oh, Skadi was falling for Balder, all right. Skadi had it big-time. I have to say, I was just a little disappointed. I’d thought better of Thiassi’s daughter. And, although I’d already discarded the idea of allying myself with the Ice Folk, an alliance with the Aesir would make that all the more difficult. I had to hand it to the General: it was a very neat little move.

And that was how, at the end of the meal, all of us found ourselves lined up behind a screen, with nothing but our bare feet on show, while Bragi played power chords on his lute and Skadi moved slowly down the line, trying to work out which pair of feet was Balder’s.

Finally, she came to a decision. ‘I choose him,’ she said, pointing.

Please. Not me. Not me, I thought.

‘Are you sure?’ Odin said.