“If he was refused, he would lay the kingdom waste,” Ivar went on. “As you’d guess, lord, no father would willingly give a daughter to so foul a being. Haakon sent the cowherd back with that answer, and guards to keep him from suffering what bearers of bad tidings ofttimes suffer. Jarnskegg heard him out and said King Haakon might change his mind later. Then he returned to the wilderness.

“Soon he began striking out at men. The cowherd was the first to die, his head crushed with one blow after the guards went home. Jarnskegg then raided throughout the uplands. The few men in a lonely steading cannot hold him off. He’s murdered them and their families. Those who ran off and hid, he’s searched out to kill.

“Moreover, he’s come into the foothills and at last the lowlands. Again and again has he burst from the night to batter down gates and doors, slay folk and herds, set houses afire. Sometimes more strength has been mustered against him than he could readily deal with. Then he’s needed only to withdraw, faster than they could give chase. But he’s bound to smite again soon, elsewhere. Everybody lives in dread of him, whether he’s come near them or not. Now and then he’ll shout at them that whenever King Haakon wishes for an end to this, he has but to send Ragnhild alone to the Troll’s Hood for him to claim.

“Of course the king’s ordered troops out to do away with him. Each time they’ve blundered uselessly around in the mountains. Clear it is, Jarnskegg’s known where they were, and kens that wilderness better than any man. He can easily keep from them till they quit. He might well slip off while they’re searching and find yet another helpless home to smash.”

“Has not the king called on the gods?” asked Hadding.

“Indeed he has, again and again, with mighty offerings,” Ivar said. “Nothing has come of it. No wizard, no spaewife, no dream has been able to tell anybody why Thor won’t make an end of this monster.”

Hadding’s look went far away. Men barely heard his voice: “I’m no soothsayer myself, but what I’ve seen in my life whispers to me that sometimes the gods themselves must go by strange roads toward ends that are unknown to men.”