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The Builder

  This is a story about building walls, not paying your workers and frolicking with horses.

  One day a solitary rider came across the rainbow bridge, bifrost, from distant lands.

  Heimdall, the watchman of the Gods called out to him; ‘Halt! State your name and

  business.’

  ‘I am the Builder, and I have a proposition that the Gods may find interesting, goddesses too,’ said the man. Heimdall allowed him through, and called the Gods to their great hall to treat with him.

  “Who, are you?” Odin, all-father and leader of them all, asked the man, who had his hood

  pulled low.

  “You may call me Builder, for that is what I am. I heard you need a wall and I will

  provide it in three winters time. All I ask for payment is the hand of Freyja in marriage, the

  sun and the moon.”

  “Oh that is all you ask is it? Well then builder build away!” Said Loki, the trickster

  God.

  “No, you shall not builder, I will not marry you," said Freyja, endlessly beautiful and

  equally terrifying. Odin pulled the two gods to the side.

  “Soon the giants will come,” said Odin. “We need a wall high enough to stop even the tallest

  giants from climbing it and strong enough to stop them from just walking through it.”

  “If only,” said Freyja, “Thor were here, he could kill any giant to come to us with his

  hammer.”

  “The loud-rider is not here to be our offence,” said Odin. “So we need a defence.”

  “Well,’ said Loki, ‘I certainly do not want to build the wall myself, I do so hate manual

  labour, I say we say yes.”

  “I say we don’t,” spat Freyja.

  “Think, O Lady of the Slain. If he truly can build the wall in three winters that would be

  a great boon, I say we do it.” said Odin

  “Wait wait wait,” said Loki, already forming a plan, “How about we say yes, but, he

  must build it in one winters time, and with no help but his own, if he doesn’t manage, which

  he won’t, then we at least will have foundations.”

  “And what if he does Loki?” said Freyja.

  “If he does, which he won’t, then I guess he’ll get his prize.”

  “Then that is what we shall do.” commanded Odin. They told the builder their

  conditions and he accepted them, swearing on Odin’s arm band, Draupnir.

  “Fine,” the Builder said “but only if I can have the help of my horse Svadilfari, I

  cannot haul the stone all the way from the mountains by myself. Remember, in one years

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  time I shall have my payment.” He leered at Freyja, walking away.

  And so, the builder began to haul stone from the mountain, cut it in front of them and place

  each stone perfectly into a gap. When summer came the wall was already many times the

  builder’s height and he had built scaffolding to haul the cut stone up, Svadilfari seeming to

  do twice the work he was. By the end of Autumn the gods truly were concerned.

  “This is an issue,” said Odin.

  “I agree,” said Freyja “He is so nearly done and we have only a few nights left, Loki

  you got me into this and you shall get me out Skin-changer, or I will have Thor crush your

  skull.”

  “I will fix this, don’t worry, beautiful Freyja.”

  The builder had finished laying his load of stone and whistled to call his horse back,

  but he did not come. “Svadilfari!” he called, “Svadilfari!”

  He tutted, this was unlike Svadilfari, his companion was normally so diligent, but he

  couldn’t afford to waste any more time and pulled his cart back to the mountain on his own,

  readying himself for the momentous task. However even for a man of his building mastership

  it was too back-breaking a task. Much to his chagrin, he failed.

  “Well builder, at midnight it will be winter, and you have failed to build us a wall,” said

  Odin.

  “I have very nearly built you a wall,” pointed out the builder “I am only a few stones

  off, and besides, Svadilfari has been missing all night,’ the Builder moved, nose practically

  touching Odin’s. “I swear Odin if you have hurt my horse.”

  “You swear nothing,” said Odin “We have our wall and you have nothing. Not even a

  horse. No man or God could carry that much stone up our beautiful new wall, your disguise

  is poor, Giant.”

  With that the builders cloak spun around him, and he grew to five, six times his height, still

  not reaching the top of the wall.

  “You cheated, Gods!” The Builder-turned-giant cried, “I said I needed Svadilfari and

  you took him from me!”

  “Your poor husbandry is not our concern, Builder, now be gone,” said Loki, knowing

  full well what had happened to Svadilfari. And with that the builder left, furious but bound to

  his oath.

  Now don’t worry, nothing bad happened to Svadilfari. In fact, he had the best night of his life,

  he danced and played with a beautiful mare, with a sleek coat and bright eyes.

  The next winter Loki entered their hall again, holding a foal with eight legs. “He is called

  Sleipnir, Odin. He is a gift for you. He will be strong like Svadilfari and fast like m- fast like the

  wind.”

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