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This cup can only be broken on Hymir's head, which is of ice, and intensely hard. "That is harder than any cup." This is therefore an effort on the part of Thor to overcome Cold. Hymir is the incarnation of Cold itself. "The icebergs resounded as the churl approached; the thicket on his cheeks was frozen. In shivers flew the pillars At the Jotun's glance."
"There is room in your breast for more sense, Rothgar, my brother, if you think, because I am forced into one lie, that I never speak the truth," he said. "We will not talk of it further. I should like to remain good-humored to-night, if it were possible. What are the words you have waiting for my ears?" The Jotun's sudden frown quite eclipsed his eyes.
With the cold November sunshine a hum of voices was coming in, now brightened by peals of laughter, again blurred by the thud of falling quoits. Over the Jotun's shoulder, he caught a glimpse of gorgeous nobles and fair-haired women scattered in graceful groups about a sunny old garden, green in the very face of winter, thanks to the protecting shelter of the gray walls.
Little affection has ever passed between us, and this time something more than usual seemed to have stirred him against me, for " "He tried to kill you!" The words were not a question but a breathless assertion as she remembered the Jotun's last threat. "He tried to kill me," the Marshal assented quietly. "And his blade did manage to pierce my mail; he is a giant in strength as in other things.
"Chief, how much longer must we lie here?" When that question was finally out, every man heaved a sigh of relief, straightening in his place like a dog that is pricking his ears, and there was a pause. A fell look came into the Jotun's face as he gazed back at them; and for a time it seemed that he would either answer with his fist or not at all.
"Certainly you would not rob the maiden of the pleasure of seeing the one she has taken so much trouble for?" he mocked. On the verge of an angry retort, Sebert paused to regard him, a suspicion darting spark-like through his mind. Did the Jotun's words smack of jealousy?
The next instant, she even drew a little clink from one of the Jotun's silver buttons. As she was recovering herself, she felt something like a pin prick her wrist; and she wondered vaguely what brooch had become unfastened. But she gave it scant attention for the big blade was threatening her from a new direction.
As he swallowed his last mouthful of food, Rothgar said abruptly, "Canute has put your training into my hands. It is his will that I find out how much skill you have with weapons." It was nothing more than she should have expected, yet it came upon her with the suddenness of a blow. She could only stammer, "Weapons?" The Jotun's voice rumbled hideously as he talked into his goblet.
For Canute's eyes were less like eyes than holes through which light was pouring, while his fingers opened and shut as though he had forgotten his sword and would leap upon the scoffer with bare hands. Thorkel left off laughing to grasp the Jotun's arm and try to drag him backwards. "Do you want to drive it from his mind that he has loved you? Go hide yourself in Fenrir's mouth!"
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