Well, Our Thor has always had a more than healthy appetite. On this occasion he surpassed himself, managing to put away a whole roast ox, eight salmon and all the little delicacies – sweets, cakes, biscuits, candied fruit – that had been put out for the women. I tried to warn him, but Thor and food are friends that can’t be parted. And after that, he started on the mead, downing three whole horns of the stuff before I managed to make him see sense.

Thrym watched him in astonishment. ‘She likes to eat, doesn’t she? How does she keep her figure?’

I giggled and fluttered my eyelashes. ‘Oh, Lord Thrym, but my mistress hasn’t eaten or drunk a thing since your flattering proposal. For eight days she’s been on a strict fast, she was so worried about fitting into her wedding dress.’

Thrym smiled fondly. ‘Ah, bless,’ he said. ‘She doesn’t need to diet for me. The bigger the cushion – now don’t be shy . . .’ He made a lunge for Freyja and managed to peek under her veil.

What he saw there seemed to make him uneasy.

‘Freyja’s eyes . . .’ he stammered.

‘What?’ I patted his arm and smiled up at him.

‘They’re so fierce – they burn like embers!’

‘Oh, but my mistress hasn’t slept for eight nights,’ I explained. ‘She’s been so keen for her wedding night – her wedding night with you, my Lord.’

‘Oh,’ said Thrym.

I smiled. ‘She’s heard all about you, my Lord,’ I said. ‘Your vigour, your handsome looks, your size . . .’

‘Really?’ said Thrym.

‘Absolutely,’ I whispered. ‘Look at the way she’s watching you now. She’s practically squirming with anticipation.’

‘Bring the hammer at once!’ said Thrym. ‘I want to be married right now!’

It took a few minutes for servants to bring the hammer into the dining hall. Meanwhile, Thor waited impatiently, while Thrym’s sister, who had been watching the fake bride throughout the meal, came to sit down next to us, eyeing the rings on Thor’s hand. They belonged to Freyja, of course, and – of course – they were very beautiful.

‘You’ll need a friend round here,’ she said. ‘Give me those rings on your fingers, and I’ll show you the ropes.’

Thor said nothing, but I could tell he was reaching the end of his patience. I ushered the sister away from him, promising her as many rings as she liked as soon as the wedding was over.

‘I think we should leave Freyja alone,’ I said, with a quelling glance at Thor. ‘She’s very shy and nervous, you know. Let’s respect her modesty.’

At last, the hammer was carried in, with every tedious piece of ceremony you can imagine. Speeches, toasts, and I could practically feel Thor’s temper, frayed to the point of combustion.