I know that I hung on the windy tree, wounded with a spear for nine long nights, dedicated

to Odin, myself to myself, on that tree whose roots run from a place that no man knows.

No bread did they give me nor a drink from a horn. Down I peered. I clutch the runes, screaming

I took them and then fell back again.

So Tom Holland, that was Odin. I know.

The poetic edder, so compiled in the 13th century, but probably drawing on a longer tradition,

although that of course is up for debate. It's one of the best known things about Odin and

the Norse myths and the world of the Vikings, the all father and his runes, the raven god

all this sort of stuff, it's tremendously exciting material, isn't it?

And Odin, of course, very much a friend of the show because he's featured in the episode

we did on the Norse gods, but also he did tremendously well in our world cup of gods,

didn't he?

When he reached the final and I frankly thought he was trashed by Athena, it has to be said.

I wanted Odin to win, I'm not going to deny that I wanted Odin to win and I feel slightly

cheated. I mean, you know that the world cup of gods is a very sore spot with me, Tom.

Yes, I did.

Shameful campaign against a new bus, however, let's move on from I do, but I think so when

we talked about Odin and the world cup of gods, we were talking about him very much as a kind

of fan favorite, the star of Marvel comics and films and you are a foolish and petuous boy.

Yes, sorry, that was my Anthony Hopkins very, very good. I mean, all that kind of stuff,

but lurking over Odin and over the stuff that the Vikings believe and indeed over the Vikings

generally is the nagging sense that it's all altogether weirder than perhaps we care to think

...