So I recently reread Beowulf, and wrote this as a response to a challenge to write a 'new' adventure for Beowulf to have. Beowulf is an Old English heroic elegy that follows the character of Beowulf, a Geat (From Sweden) who travels to Denmark where he fights and slays the monster Grendel. A new movie from Paramount is coming out that will retell this age old story through cinema. I am excited to see this literary classic in movie form. Enjoy my story!
The Slaying of the Twelve
And so it came to pass
That Beowulf and his brave Geats
Must return home to their own hallowed land
And on his ship
Laden with treasure gifts from Hrothgar’s kingdom
The warriors began their journey homeward
But upon reaching their long awaited destination
And mooring upon soil long missed
Did news of Higlac’s death reach their ears
It was during their absence
Whilst they were aiding the Danish lord
That Higlac had sickened and died
After being wounded so mortally
From doing battle with a creature most foul
And so it was that the returning heroes
Did not present themselves
As the returning victors that they were
But as broken men in mourning black
Wailing laments as they marched inland
to where their fallen king laid
Though already the body had lain
A month in its crypt
Once more was the tomb opened
That Beowulf might bid his uncle farewell
As the masons worked to remove the
Stone from the entrance to Higlac’s final resting place
Slowly the story of the honored one’s killer did seep forth
And Leodeg, Higlac’s great counsel, spoke:
“Twas but a fortnight had passed since you had left
our great home to aid that lord across the sea
when the first of its victims we found.
In a bloody swath of earth nigh the road
Two pilgrims, one dead and
One barely clinging to life.
So mangled and mutilated were their corpses
That the spectacle was hardly recognizable
As human remains
So shredded was the flesh of the fast dying man
That all attempts to staunch the flow of his life’s blood
Were in vain.
And yet he found the strength to name his attacker
As his sister, who had been traveling with him.
Thinking the man mad for loss of blood
And humoring him further, I listened to
His weak voice as he told how his sister
Had been given a cursed item
Now she would turn into this malignant creature
That feeds upon the blood and flesh of men
And create more like her among
The women of each village they passed
The man, his voice so faint I strained to hear,
Told me he had been bringing her to a sacred
Shrine, to try and rid her of the curse.
But alas, the hunger of the beast within
Won over the fragile lady’s heart
And as the poor pilgrim’s heart did slow
He warned me one last time:
‘Naught can stop the creature once the twelve
are gathered and ride.’
With this final puzzling warning
The pious pilgrim died
And though I bore the man’s story no weight
I was soon to be proven wrong.
For within the first three days
Of the deaths of the pilgrims
Nine more of our people died
In such similar a manner
That the same creature, the same killer
Must be at fault
This creature, foul in nature and fowl by name
Was a devil incarnate that possessed the women
Of the land.
Upon slaking its thirst with her sweet blood,
The spirit would take over the tender damsel’s shell
From her back would sprout the wings of a raven
And her hands liken themselves to the talons of a hawk
Her eyes no longer the soft fawn colored gems
But hard black bits of opal that possessed a hard searing gaze
With moonrise, the creature would awaken
And seek out the bread and water of its sustenance
In the bodies of any who dared stray into the dark night
Each morning it seemed more corpses
Were discovered
Or more people were missing
Each night it seemed the attacks
Increased in ferocity.
Until one dusky evening,
Yonder brave king and his most trusted of warriors
Laid wait in a field for the creature
Surely our own Lord Higlac and eight of his best huntsmen
Would be a match for such a monster?
And yet, when morning came, like all the others
Blood mixed with dew dressed the green leaves
In silver and red.
Our great Higlac, now gasping and fighting for air
Had been defeated by this monstrosity.
But as we cared for him, in his dying hours
He, like the pilgrim, told the tale of his battle.
He and his men had fought bravely,
The clawed creature had appeared
With the first wisps of night
And had set about cracking his warrior’s heads
Like walnuts in the shell
Soon, however, the tables turned
As one of the knights damaged the creature’s wing
It fell from the sky and was cornered
Until it soon resembled the corpses it once
Rendered limb from limb
But before the final killing blow was to be struck
Four more such creatures did descend on the band
And the battle raged on.
Valiantly Higlac battled until only he was left
His mail shorn from his body by fierce claws
And his sword broken by the strong wings of the demons
Surely he would soon die as the bird-monsters drank his blood!
But God’s glorious sun had begun to rise, and the creatures of
Darkness shrank from the heavenly light as though burned by fire
Without a moment more, they wheeled away towards the fading
Twilight, until another night of gluttony.
And thus is how we found our king, broken and dying
He lingered but for a few moments, only long enough
To name his attackers: “Valkyrja,” he called them, “
The cursed bird-women of the north.”
You are a celebrated warrior yourself
As well as your uncle’s chosen heir.
Take the throne, and lead the Geats,
But first destroy these hideous Valkyrja
And free our people from terror.”
After hearing Leodeg’s tale
And the fate of his uncle
Beowulf agreed to defeat
The monsters and set about the task.
“From what I have heard,” Beowulf began,
“Both from the pilgrim’s words
And that of my fallen uncle’s
These creatures will multiply
Until they reach twelve in number.
We must not allow this to happen
For each creature can easily take
Two men a night to ease its hunger.
This very night, I wish to have
Twenty warriors of unparalleled
Strength and skill to gather upon the hill
Where the first battle betwixt my Uncle and
The Valkyrja occurred.”
And by dusk the twenty men asked for and Beowulf himself
Had assembled themselves on the hill where last Higlac had fought.
There the soil was still red and sour with the spilled blood
From Higlac’s men.
The sun set and the night wafted in.
Already, Beowulf’s chosen warriors had
Begun to doubt their leader, and pranced and milled like nervous
Horses. The night was black as pitch, no moon shone, no stars glimmered.
Even the barest hint of wind was mistaken for the foul breath of a Valkyrja.
Many hours did the men wait,
Until finally the fear began to dissipate.
And one by one the men fell asleep
Leaving Beowulf the watch alone to keep.
Not long past the witching hour,
Twelve apparitions of feather and claw descended
Upon the unsuspecting band of conquerors.
Beowulf rose the alarm quickly, as the first
Of his warriors was snatched from before him
And hauled into the dark air as the bird-women
Shrieked with delight at their meal.
“To me! To me! At arms, all of you! To me!”
Beowulf gathered his army around him as the
Creatures wheeled and dove trying to
Shred and devour those below.
Beowulf, being so angry that even one of
His men had been devoured, grasped the
Wing of one of the creatures as it flew in to strike again.
The creature, surprised as it was at being caught, struggled from
His grip, as its razor sharp feathers cut into Beowulf’s hand.
Knowing he could not hold on, Beowulf quickly smashes the hilt of his sword
Onto the demon’s wing and hears the satisfying crunch of bone as it is made lame.
The Valkyrja crashes into the ground before rising up again
With vengance burning in its black eyes.
The remaining multitude of demon-birds hang back
Behind their fallen comrade
Seething with fury and rage.
“Fools!”one of their number shrieks,
“Don’t you know that once the Twelve
Are assembled no man can oppose us? Hlökk will fly again!
She will feast with her sisters Skögul and Göll on sweet man flesh
and drink the hot blood from your veins!
We will forever ride and naught can slay us!”
Beowulf answered this challenge with as much a cryptic answer:
“This is true, no man may oppose you, but soon your bones will
crackle and your feathers wilt all the same.”
With this final word, Beowulf and his men fell upon
The demons with pikes and axes, smashing wings
And breaking talons even as they were being devoured
For even though they could not fly, the Valkyrja were not dead
And still bit and tore, and mangled men on the ground.
All through the night this went, until only three of the twelve
Remained airborne and only Beowulf remained of his men.
“Fool!” one of the Valkyrja cackled,
“Why do you continue darting around on the ground like that?
There is no hope for you! All your warriors are dead!
Only you remain, and yet you have gained nothing!
Come the next moon, my sisters will have healed
and the twelve will once again ride the night sky.”
Even as the creature spoke, Beowulf notched
an arrow and injured the beasts,
causing them to fall from their aerie.
Again the creatures laughed,
All twelve lame but very much alive
Beasts surrounded the final warrior and
Began to shred his flesh.
But then as the Valkyrja began to
Pounce upon Beowulf for the final blow
He laughed.
“What madness is this?” asked the monster named Hlökk,
“Do all fools die with such mirth? I know not, but an uneasiness
has grabbed me, sisters. ‘Ware the man who laughs at death.”
The great hulk of feather and sin tossed Beowulf’s body to the next
Demon to be devoured, but his laughter did not stop.
And just then the sun began to rise, for the battle
Had taken all the night’s hours and on through twilight.
As the burning rays of heaven’s glory touched the
Sin stained feathers of the black Valkyrja
They screeched in pain and agony and attempted
To fly back to darkness.
But alas, because all their wings were broken, they
Could do naught but flap helplessly on the ground
As they were eaten up by the acidic rays of sunlight
Until all that was left were the bodies of the twelve
Possessed women and black raven feathers.
Beowulf, being one more for strength
Than battles of wit,
Surveyed the carnage before him
And then turned towards the sun to greet the day.
