appetite. Could such a monster be a god? Nay, he must be a devil, and why should free men serve devils? At least, I would not. I would cast him off, and let him avenge himself upon me if he could. I, Olaf, would match myself against this god—or devil.
I strode past Leif and the altar to where the statue of Odin sat within the temple.
"Hearken!" I said in such a voice that all lifted their eyes from the scene of butchery to me. "You believe in Odin, do you not?"
They answered "Aye."
"Then you believe that he can revenge himself upon one who rejects and affronts him?"
"Aye," they answered again.
"If this be so," I went on, "will you swear to leave the matter between Odin and me, Olaf, to be settled according to the law of single combat, and give peace to the victor, with promise from all harm save at the hands of his foe?"
"Aye," they answered, yet scarcely understanding what they said.
"Good!" I cried. "Now, God Odin, I, Olaf, a man, challenge you to single combat. Strike you first, you, Odin, whom I name Devil and Wolf of the skies, but no god. Strike you first, bloody murderer, and kill me, if you can, who await your stroke!"
Then I folded my arms and stared at the statue's stony eyes, which stared back at me, while all the people gasped.
For a full minute I waited thus, but all that happened was that a wren settled on the head of Odin and twittered there, then flew off to its nest in the thatch.
