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"But I don't know Loki. I've never seen him before in my life. Never seen her." He gesticulated at Mrs Keener. "Never met her, never made any kind of deal with her. This is crazy! Why are you doing this to me? I fought next to you. I put my balls on the line, just like you. I'm not a traitor!"

"Sounds pretty convincing to me," Mrs Keener commented. "Swearing blind he ain't the one."

"Well, he would, wouldn't he?" I replied.

"Tell him," Backdoor said to her urgently. He was starting to panic. Maybe he'd guessed what I had in mind for him. "Tell him I'm not working for you. I'm nothing to do with you."

"Ain't down to me, pal. This is Gid's call."

"He's got it all arse about face. I'm good. I'm loyal."

"Gid?"

I eyed Backdoor coolly. "No," I said. "You're a conniving bastard, no doubt about it, and for that, you're getting the same treatment I am."

His eyes swivelled towards the rectangular frame. "No..." he gasped.

"It's only fair," I said. "I'm being punished for doing everything right, so you should be punished too, for doing everything wrong. That way, it all balances out."

"Gid..."

"Do him first," I said to Mrs Keener. "Whatever you're planning on doing to me, he gets it first. I'll watch."

"Very well." She nodded to Bergelmir. "This must be your lucky day, Bergelmir. You're gonna have your fun with two of them."

The frost giants' ruler laughed from way down in his belly. Couldn't quite believe his good fortune.

"No! Please, no!" Backdoor yelled hoarsely as the frost giants bound him to the frame by his wrists and ankles. They strung him inside it with his limbs outstretched so that he formed an X shape, like a vote in a ballot. He bucked and struggled, but it was no use. "This isn't right! This isn't fair! Mrs Keener, you can stop this. Please, for God's sake, stop it!"

Her response was a nonchalant shrug. "If you're what Gid says you are, then you've outlived your usefulness to me. The game's over. What's one player less on the field?"

Bergelmir produced a short ice knife with a half-serrated blade. In a few deft strokes he slashed off Backdoor's clothes, leaving his top half bare. Backdoor yelled even harder and writhed against his bonds, but spread-eagled as he was, he had no leverage, and the knots held fast.

"There is," said Mrs Keener, having to raise her voice to be heard above Backdoor's protests, "an old Viking method of execution. You may have heard about it. Many of the kings and chieftains of the Norsemen's enemies died in this way. It ain't pleasant in the least. It's known as the blood eagle."

I dimly recognised the name, although I couldn't recall the details of what a blood eagle actually involved.

Luckily, Mrs Keener was happy to explain.

"It's very simple. The executioner - in this case, Bergelmir - severs the victim's ribs one by one, right close to the spine. Then he grabs the two halves of the ribcage and yanks them back and outward so's they look like wings. Next he hauls out the lungs, leaves 'em dangling. Finally, as the coop de grass, he packs the wounds with salt. Might be overkill, that last bit, and we may not bother with it. Depends on the victim still being alive, and after all the rest you've got to think that's gonna be a mite unlikely. But we'll see. People have an amazing capacity to endure even the most extreme ordeals, so you never know. Y'all get the gist of it, anyway. This is what we're gonna do to our buddy Backdoor, and then to our buddy Gid. Blood eagling them. And you folks get to watch."

She turned to Bergelmir.

"Any time you're ready, big guy."

Bergelmir gave a yellow grin and brandished his knife.

Backdoor had gone limp. He hung from the ropes, his breath coming in fast, sharp pants. He was in shock. He couldn't believe what was about to happen to him. Didn't want to. I could see it in his eyes - they were glazing over, his mind was going elsewhere. He was retreating inside himself, trying to escape the here and now, vanishing into tunnels within.

Wherever he went, though, however deep he