My body is frozen in shock as I behold a scene that would drive the strongest heart mad with grief and terror. Finding Balder and the Trickster themselves on the ship was enough of a jolt. As I said, I am not much on speaking terms with the gods, but no living being in Midgard can fail to feel inside his flesh and bones the aura, the distinctive power of these two - goodness and evil, close together on one ship.

I thought I was ready for anything. My young companion's boldness fires my blood even more, and I am about to follow him and unleash havoc on the etin, when something happens. Only my upraised sword arm as I prepared to jump over the side saves my eyes from the effects of a sudden flash of light.

And even so, when I lower my arm, stunned, I have to squint in the lingering glare to see Amleth, dazed but driven by righeous rage, lunge blindly towards the sound of that taunting voice...

... but in place of Loki now stands Balder, bound and helpless, and Amleth's sword strikes a deadly blow.

"NOOOO!"

The very skies, the seas scream along with me, as the whole of Nature revolts against this sacrilege. A small part of my mind wonders, how is this possible? Balder is invulnerable to all weapons... almost all... oh, gods...

For a moment, as life itself retracts away from us, I am in truth a decrepit old man, standing bowed, speechless, frail, shaking, drawing ragged breaths. Then I breathe in with an effort through clenched teeth and let out a frightening war yell as I jump over the side. I have cut two giants' heads before setting my feet on the planks. I open my way, screaming and slashing, to the young man fallen on his knees, I grab him and turn back to reach our ship through thickening foes...