Herman Van Arthog

W O E B L U F

In the far north, as north as one can go, and far to the east, as east as one can go, amongst the clans of the Schnai, in the hall of Gyhelac a messenger came bearing a dire tale to the warlord's feast and an urgent plea from a lord by the sea.

The bard spoke:

"It is Drengel, the Night Stalker, the Man-Wolf, the Death-Shadow, who has his lair among the sea inlets and coastal marshes. He heard the laughter and the harp-song from the lord's high hall, and it troubled him in his dark dreams, and he roused and came up out of the wastelands and snuffed about the porch. The door stood unfastened in the usual way—though it would have been little hindrance to him had it been barred to keep out a war host. Drengel prowled in, hating all men and all joy, and hungry for human life. So swift was his attack that no man heard an outcry; but when the dawn came, thirty of Raghroth's best and noblest thanes were missing, and only the blood splashed on the walls and floor, and the monster's footprints oozing red, remained to tell their fate."

Gyhelac spoke:

"This is an evil message you bring."

The bard spoke:

"Aye, evil enough, and the end is not yet reached, for having once roused, the Night-Stalker does not sleep again, but comes back and back and back; and to this day after the dark comes down Heotor is a place forsaken and accursed."

Gyhelac spoke:

"Can Raghroth find no champions amongst all of the Schnai strong enough to rid him of this horror?"

The bard spoke:

"At first there were plenty bold enough to spend the night in Raghroth's hall—especially when the mead was in them. But in the morning nothing was ever left of them save the blood splashed on the floor. And so the time came long since when no more champions could be found."

Gyhelac spoke:

"And still he comes, this monster, even though the hall is empty?"

The bard spoke:

"Perhaps he hopes always for the time when some man sleeps again in Heotor the Heart. Still he comes; and every morning the mirey footprints and the salt-marsh smell are left to tell where Drengel prowled among the mead benches in the last night's dark. And Raghroth grows old in sorrow, and in the hope, but he can have little hope left him now—that one day Istus who weaves the fates of men may send him a champion strong enough to free him and his people from the Death-Shadow that fills their nights with horror."

Then from among the thanes a common, ordinary looking yet strong and honorable warrior, Woebluf, stood up and strode up the hall before the high seat where Gyhelac sat and he spoke:

"My lord Gyhelac, I ask your leave to go travelling."

Gyhelac looked at him keenly and then spoke:

"Maybe I will give you leave to follow the snow roads again; but first tell me what is in your heart."

Woebluf spoke:

"When my father needed a friend at his shoulder, he found such a one in this Raghroth of the Sea Schnai. Shelter he gave to my father and my mother and to me also when the time came that she bore me; and my first memories are of lying on a wolfskin before his fire. He paid the Wergild for the man my father slew, and made peace between him and the Fruztii so that a time came in my sixth summer, when my father might return home to his own clan again. Now it seems that Raghroth himself stands sorely in need of a friend and it is time for me to repay the debt."

Gyhelac looked troubled and then spoke:

"I thought so. I thought so … Woebluf, sister's son, you are foremost among my warriors, and save for my boy, you are almost the only kinsman left to me; and I grieve to see you go upon such a perilous journey. Yet a man should pay his debts. Go then, but remember that there will be anxious eyes watching here from the wall tops for your return journey over the snows."

So Woebluf gathered his men together to journey overland upon their great war horses to Heotor. As he neared Heotor the Warden met them on the road.

The Warden spoke:

"Who are you strangers from across the snows, and what purpose brings you to this part of the land of the Schnai? You come in war array, armed as for battle, yet you have not the look of those who come to burn farms and rape women and drive off cattle."

Woebluf spoke:

"In truth, though we come in war array, the battle that we seek is not with Raghroth's Schnai folk. As to who we are—I am Woebluf, sister's son to Gyhelac of the Inland Schnai, and these with me are my sword-brothers and hearth-companions. As to our purpose—a few days ago since, word came to Gyhelac's court that Raghroth of the Sea Schnai was in need of champions to rid him of a monster that walks his hall at night; and so we are come, following the Bear's Road north across the white snowy lands from our own lands."

The Warden assessed the visitors and spoke:

"So. It is long and long that Raghroth and all his folk have waited for such champions. Come then, and I will set you on your way to the Lord's hall."

They travelled through sparse woodland then crop fields untilled and blanketed with snow, then orchards barren of fruit. Then they came straight upon the hall.

The Warden spoke:

"Yonder is Heotor. The road will take you to the very doorsill. I must be away back to the borderland, but do you go forward now, my friends."

They travelled on through the farmlands and through the village where the people were huddled in their cottages by their fire. In the middle of the village Heotor the Heart rose larger as they neared it and the road went straight to the door.

In the doorway a warrior stood guarding. He spoke:

"Who are you, strangers who come in war-harness to the threshold of Raghroth the Lord of the Sea Schnai? And what is it you seek here?"

Woebluf spoke:

"As to who we are—I am sister's son to Gyhelac of the Inland Schnai, and these with me are my sword-brothers and hearth-companions. As to what we seek here—we would have word with Raghroth for our business is with him."

The guard spoke:

"Wait then, and I will carry your name to Raghroth," and he turned into the hall where were the voices many men and the smell of roasting meat.

The guard returned and they were admitted to the splendid hall of Heotor wherein a great feast was being had. As Woebluf and his companions entered, the room of thanes fell quiet and Woebluf advanced to the High Seat of Lord Raghroth.

Raghroth spoke:

"So it is true. I scarce believed … But there is that in your face that I should know again if you stood among a hundred warriors; aye though you stood no higher at the shoulder, when last I saw you, than Garm my favorite hound. My heart leapt up within me when Nothwulf, my door guard, brought word that Woebluf sat waiting on my guest bench to have speech with me—and most joyfully are you welcome, you and your comrades with you. But tell me what brings you here to my threshold as your father came. Have you slain a man of the Fruztii?"

Woebluf smiled and spoke:

"Na, na, my Lord Raghroth. A travelling man brought word inland of the evil that has fallen upon a Schnai-lord and his folk; and so we come, I and my sword-brothers, to offer our service and our strength against the thing that walks Heotor in the dark. Men say that I have the strength of thirty warriors in my grip. And it is yours, for my father's sake. Give to me and my comrades leave to sleep in your hall tonight."

Raghroth looked serious and spoke:

"So you have come for friendship's sake, for the sake of the bond that was between Ecgtheow your father and myself when the world was young. Yet think before it is too late; think of the hideous end that has come to every man who has stood in this place to pit his courage and strength against the Death-Shadow-in-the-Dark. Drengel's strength cannot be measured even against the strength of thirty men, for it is beyond the measuring of mortal strength. They also were young and strong, those other champions who have stood here before you, but youth and strength did not avail them. In the name of the old friendship that brought you here I bid you think, and be very sure, before the time for thinking is past."

Woebluf spoke:

"We have thought, all of us, and we are content to abide whatever the night may bring. The outcome must be as Istus weaves the fates of men may choose."

Raghroth looked hopeful and spoke:

"So be it, then; I accept the aid that you bring me, Woebluf son of Ecgtheow. Sleep in my hall tonight, but meanwhile do you and those who come with you feast with high hearts among my thanes."

A great joyful shout rose from the warriors in the hall and the guests were welcomed at the table for roasted boar flesh, eel pie, and mead. And they feasted greatly.

Then a jealous man of the lord's court, Funherth, rose to his feet and spoke:

"Tell us, now, are you that Woebluf of whom we have heard, who strove with Breca son of Steanban in a wondrous contest within the wintry woods?"

Woebluf looked up at the man and spoke:

"So that story has come ahead of me to the coastal folk."

Funherth drunkenly spoke:

"Aye, it is a fine story, and we have heard it all. We have heard how your friends and kindred begged you to forbear such folly, and how you would not heed them, but pushed into forest during a rising blizzard. Seven days and nights you pitted yourselves against each other, so men say. Yet in the end it was Breca who had the mastery. And should you not have thought, before you came here like a cock crowing on another's dung hill, that Drengel is like to be fiercer and a stronger foe than ever Breca son of Steanban could be?"

Woebluf leapt up angrily and spoke:

"So you have heard the old story; but it seems that you have heard it amiss, my large-mouthed friend. Maybe your ears were too full of heather beer for clear listening! It was a folly, even as you say, a youthful folly; we were boys, Breca and I, and never foes. We boasted against each other who could slay the most wolves without coming back to rest, and having boasted, we must make good our boasts. So we took each of us a horse and headed for the trees. Our swords we wore naked and beside we had long spears, but the swords were for our own defense in case of need, not for use against each other; and five days we stayed side by side, but could not find the wolves that we had come to seek. And then from the west a great blizzard arose and we became separated and when dawn came I had found the wolves. They were all about me in the trees; one the greatest of them all, made for the horse. I speared him but missed the life-place, and in our struggle I was thrown from the horse and together, locked in battle, we went down into the snowdrifts. Then I had good use for my sword, but before I could slay the great beast it tore at my wrist and my sword fell from my grasp. Just then Breca rode in and slew the great wolf upon me. He jumped down to aid me with the wolves all about us and they rushed at us with white teeth bared to tear us limb from limb. Breca still had his sword and fought them off for a time before he was overcome and I was able to escape on his horse as they dragged him down. The horse staggered back to the village and though I was badly injured I did return from the contest. Not Breca, therefore, but I was the victor in that contest!"

The hall fell silent for a few uncomfortable minutes as Woebluf, quietly as though nothing had happened, settled himself once more upon the bench, righted the mead horn, and returned to his half-eaten barley cake. The feasting resumed, albeit, less joyful and with a strangely strained and paranoid mood after Woebluf's story.

Spirits rose again when the lord's wife entered the hall. She gracefully stood beside her husband and addressed the room.

"We have heard, even in the women's' quarters, of the champions from inland who feast in Heotor this evening; and we have heard the brave purpose of their coming. Surely now our sorrows are almost over; therefore drink, my dear lord, and let your heart be lightened."

The lord drank and then she carried the cup, regularly refilled, to each of the warriors in the hall. At last she came to Woebluf and spoke:

"Greeting, and joy be to you, Woebluf son of Ecgtheow; and all thanks of our hearts, that you came so valiantly to our aid."

Woebluf rose, took the cup and spoke:

"Valour is a word to use when the battle is over. Give us your thanks when we have done the thing which we have come to do. But this at least I promise you, that if we fail to rid you of the monster, we shall not live to carry home our shields."

And he drained the cup.

More time passed and eventually Raghroth rose and spoke:

"Soon it will be dusk and yet again the time of dread comes upon Heotor. You are still determined upon this desperate venture?"

Woebluf spoke:

"I am not want to change my purpose without cause and those with me are of a like mind, or they would not have ridden with me in the first place."

Raghroth spoke:

"So. Keep watch, then. If you prevail in the combat before you, you shall have such reward from me as never yet heroes had from a lord. I pray to Kord that when the light grows again out of tonight's dark, you may stand here to claim it. Heotor is yours until morning."

With that everyone left the hall to the guests very rapidly. The men prepared bedding on the floor to sleep and await the monster.

Woebluf spoke:

"Bar the doors. Bars will not keep him out, but at least they may give us some warning of his coming."

The bar was set and the men stood waiting. As they grew weary they lay down beside their weapons to sleep. Woebluf set his weapons aside for he knew that weapons cannot harm troll-kind and only great strength could defeat Drengel. Then he lay down and waited.

Drengel came to the hall and burst in its doors. He was an enormous troll with a long warty nose and sharp talons on the tips of his vicious claws. He walked in, reached down and grabbed one of the sleeping warriors, and quickly broke the man over his knee, bent him in half and threw him across the room. Drengel reached down to take another man but found himself in turn gripped by the arm also. Drengel was surprised at first, noting the man's strength, but then proceeded anyway by lifting the man in the air by his arm. Woebluf maintained his iron grip though he dangled from Drengel's arm. Drengel then smacked Woebluf's body against the ceiling timbers and then smashed his body to the floor with a horrid crunching sound. Then using Woebluf as a kind of floppy club Drengel smashed the tables and chairs, the throne, and the wall hangings. Woebluf was screaming for the first few minutes, but eventually stopped when his head was crushed to a pulpy mess on the stones of the fireplace. Drengel continued to flail away with Woebluf, dragging his body through the fireplace and scattering embers across the room which made the troll frantically run about putting out the small fires with the human's battered corpse. Woebluf's men had woken and they stood watching the scene in utter dismay. The troll, now winded, stopped for a breather on the other side of the great room. With this lull in the action the men charged the monster with bared steel. With a series of terrible ripping and snapping sounds Drengel tore Woebluf's arm from his body and proceeded to beat the attacking warriors with it. The great warriors fared no better than their hero and several fell beneath the crushing power of Woebluf's arm as the troll swung it wildly about him at the desperate men. The fighters found Drengel's hide difficult to pierce and when they did strike true the wound would seal itself shortly after.

Then there was a shout from behind and Hondscio, the group's priest, spoke:

"Stand aside. Let Vatun strike this beast."

As the men broke from combat, a great pillar of flame from the heavens engulfed Drengel. The troll howled with pain and sought escape, but another column of fire fell and another and another until Drengel was nothing but a smoking, crispy, charred corpse upon the great hall's floor. Drengel had been defeated.

In the morning, Raghroth and his lady came and grew sickened by the state of the hall. They noted the gore spread about the room, the smashed furniture, and the crispy troll and they lamented the death of Woebluf. Hondscio bade them not to fret for he would return Woebluf to life the next day.

The next day Woebluf met with Raghroth. He spoke:

"I hoped to force the Night-Prowler down on to one of the sleeping benches and there choke the foul life out of him. In that I failed, for despite all my strength, he got the best of me from the very beginning. But in so doing I gave Hondscio time to prepare his prayers and as you can see I doubt that even Drengel may long outlive such a wound as he has now."

Raghroth tapped at the charred skull with his toe and spoke:

"I also doubt as much. Much sorrow have we suffered at Drengel's hands, my folk and I, many staunch warriors I have wept for in the years since Heotor was built—this hall that should have been our joy."

Woebluf spoke:

"But sorrow is passed, and now it shall be your joy indeed."

Then Raghroth looked at him askance and spoke:

"Aye, now it shall be our joy indeed … And that is your doing. Well might Ecgtheow your father rejoice in Valhalla in the fame that has been won; well may your mother if she yet lives praise the All-Father for the son she bore—the son she bore at my court, to be a friend of a champion to me in my old age. From this day forward your priest shall be a son to me in love, and there is nothing that I would give to my own sons that he may not have from me for the asking."

The hall was cleaned and newly furnished and prepared for the feast that evening in honor of Woebluf and his surviving heroes. There was much eating and drinking and harping. The Lord gave gifts to them of gold and armor and weapons and horses and there was much rejoicing.

And then Lady Wealhtheow, cup raised, spoke:

"You have made your gifts to this new son that you have taken to your heart, and now it is my turn, and I have brought gifts of my own from the women's quarters. For the thing that you have done for us, Hondscio, may you live valiant and beloved to the end of your days. My sons are your brothers now; be a friend and a brother to them in their need, for they could find none better in all the world."

With that she brought forth two fine gold arm bands, a fine silvery sark of link mail and a beautiful jewelled collar. She then spoke:

"Hondscio, if ever you find yourself forgetting us, wear this to help your memory."

She placed the collar upon him.

Then Woebluf spoke:

"I shall not need even so fair a jewel as this to aid my memory of the friends I have found at Raghroth's court."

To Woebluf the Lady spoke:

"That is well … but."

The Lady turned back to Hondscio and spoke:

"I think that your friends at Raghroth's court will long remember you."

Then the Lady and her women left the hall and after continued festivities so did the Lord and Woebluf and his companions leaving the thanes to sleep in Heotor.

That night the troll-mother of Drengel came to Heotor and wreaked bloody havoc upon the sleepy thanes bearing away into the night one of the greatest and most beloved of the warriors. In the first light of the morning Woebluf and his comrades were requested back at Heotor by the Lord. When Woebluf arrived he saw Raghroth upon his throne looking defeated and ashen.

Woebluf spoke:

"My lord Raghroth. What has happened here in the night?"

Raghroth spoke:

"Evil has returned to Heotor."

Woebluf spoke:

"What evil? Surely Drengel has not come again. What evil? Tell me!"

Raghroth spoke:

"Drengel? Nay, not Drengel. I have heard men speak before now of having seen not one but two Night-Stalkers among the moorland mists, and one of them in some sort like a woman. Fool that I was, and thrice-cursed fool. I paid no heed to the tale, but now I know all to surely that the tale was true. Dead is Aschere, my councillor and shoulder-to-shoulder man. Many times we strove side by side in battle, shedding our blood together and sharing the mead horn afterwards; and now he is dead, slain by the foul kinswoman of the monster whom your priest slew."

Woebluf spoke:

"I have still my strength, Lord Raghroth, and still it is at your service."

Raghroth spoke:

"Have your priest save us from this new horror, Woebluf, as he saved us from the other. He alone can do it. Maybe he can find and bring back to life Aschere, who was near to me as my own heart."

Woebluf, with a sour look on his face, spoke:

"Sorrow not so grievously. It is better that a man should avenge his friend than mourn him overmuch. Each of us must wait the end of life, and if a man gain honor while he lives, as Aschere gained it, that is best for a warrior when the time comes that Istus cuts the web of his living from the loom. Abide but this one day and your friend shall not lie unavenged, though I cannot bring him back to you. Listen and believe me. Not in Oerth's breast nor in the fiery heart of the mountains nor the black depths of the sea shall the She-troll escape my coming."

Raghroth looked doubtful and finally spoke:

"Have my horse saddled, and others for Woebluf, Hondscio, and whoever he chooses to ride with us. We are for the Troll-Woman's lair."

Woebluf went back to his quarters and collected his armor, weapons, and companions and they immediately set out to hunt the troll hag. A large group of warriors including the lord traveled to the dark valley where they knew the trolls lived. There they found Aschere's head on the cliff's edge before the drop into the sea. They could see by the blood that the trolls lived in a cave beneath the sea, so Woebluf prepared himself to dive into the water and find the entrance and kill the troll.

Then Funherth went to Woebluf with a sword and spoke:

"Here, take my sword—Hrunting, men call it. The blade was tempered with brew of poison twigs and hardened with battle blood. It is a powerful blade and has never yet failed its man in combat."

Woebluf took the sword and spoke:

"Friend, I thank you for the loan. With Hrunting, or surely not at all, I will overcome this Troll-Woman of the sea."

Then Woebluf turned to Lord Raghroth and spoke:

"Raghroth, Lord of the Sea-Schnai, I go now, and whether we shall meet again is as Istus may choose. If I do not return, I pray you send those gifts which you gave to me home to Gyhelac, my own Hearth-Lord—all save my own great sword; let you give that to Funherth, as a gift from a friend in place of his sword Hrunting, which will have perished with me."

Woebluf turned to look at his battle brethren, let out a war cry, turned, and dove into the sea. Woebluf sank rapidly to the bottom and before he had time to search for the troll's cave he was snatched by the great she-troll and dragged through a tunnel and up into an air filled cavern. Dizzy from lack of air, Woebluf struggled to his feet and attempted to regain his bearings. He held Hrunting out before him as a ward while he cleared his head. He was given little time, however, as the troll grabbed the sword from his hand and with both hands bent Hrunting and wrapped it around Woebluf's neck. She then knocked the stunned warrior off his feet and fell upon him with her dagger stabbing him and clawing at him repeatedly even after he quit struggling.

At the top of the cliff by the sea, the large group of Schnai warriors waited for the return of their champion. Eventually, when they had waited over-long, Raghroth gathered his men together and prepared them to leave. With a derisive sneer Raghroth spoke:

"It is over, then, and we shall not see him again, Woebluf, whose priest is as a son to me. Come, there is nought to be gained by biding longer in this place."

Then he and his thanes left Woebluf's men standing on the cliff over the sea awaiting their leader. After waiting a few more hours, even Woebluf's men began to feel a little ridiculous.

Then Hondscio shouted and pointing at a hole in the stony earth he spoke:

"Hey guys, look."

It seemed to go far enough back to be worth investigating, so Hondscio lit a torch and entered. The tunnel wound a little bit before opening upon a large cavern. In the center of the great room was the troll bitch busily eating the flesh from the bones of a corpse with the remainder of the corpse on one side and a pile of stripped bones on the other. She was too occupied with her meal to notice Hondscio. A great pillar of flame dropped upon her and engulfed her for a few long painful moments. She jumped up and looked around and was struck again. She began running about madly screaming and beating at the flames, but despite her attempts to escape the spontaneous fire attacks, she was struck four more times before falling to the floor burning and then two more times for good measure. When the fire subsided, the troll's bones were charcoal and the rest was ash. Hondscio gathered the bones and the remainder of Woebluf and put them in a sack along with the blackened skull of the troll woman. He left the cave and went back into the light where he was greeted with cheers from the warriors that awaited his return. He showed them the skull and Woebluf's fate and hurriedly they gathered their horses and went back to Heotor.

They first went to Lord Raghroth and showed him the skull of the troll and the bones of Woebluf. At the sight of the troll skull he was too overjoyed to care about Woebluf. A party and a feast developed in minutes and soon the hall was raucous with laughter, music, and festivities. Meanwhile, Hondscio gathered Woebluf together and spent the evening resurrecting him back to life.

In the morning, Woebluf swaggered into the hall and went up to Raghroth and spoke:

"The thing that we came to do is done. Heotor is a safe sleeping place henceforth; and now it is time that I go back to Gyhelac, my own Lord."

Raghroth spoke:

"My heart is sore to lose your priest. But you must go back to your Lord and your own people. I think that in the long years ahead, you will have need of such a sword and such a shield that only your few friends will provide."

Woebluf spoke:

"Whatever happens is as Istus decrees. But this I know: If ever you should need me, whether it be under threat of war or for any other cause, you have but to send me word and I will come with a thousand warriors at my back."

Raghroth waved his hand dismissively and spoke:

"Aww, don't worry about it."

Woebluf rode then back inland with his warriors to Lord Gyhelac where they told their tale and feasted all through the night.

Woebluf continued his feasting and telling of his exploits with the trolls for years after he returned. Then one day there was a call for the mightiest hero of the land to go to the mountains and slay a vicious red dragon who lived therein who was destroying nearby farms and villages. All eyes turned to Woebluf. He accepted the task without concern.

He had an idea for how to slay the beast. He went to the Warsmith and spoke:

"Forge me a shield of iron, strong to withstand fire. And be quick in the forging of it, for the people cannot endure many more such nights of desolation."

So Woebluf and his band of warriors went in search of the dragon. After three days and three nights of searching they found the great smoking cavern wherein the dragon lay. They heard its rumbling breathing and could feel the heat expelled from the cave mouth. Woebluf prepared himself with sword and his new shield.

One of his warriors, Wiglaf, came to him and spoke:

"My friend—I beg you, let me come with you."

Woebluf shook his head and spoke:

"Na, na, do you not know that I am the hero? This is a fight, not for a war host but for one man, even as my fight with Drengel was for one man. But stay here, all of you, with your weapons ready, and watch to see how it goes with me down yonder."

So he went down to the cave, shouting as he went insults toward the dragons bravery and lineage. When he arrived at the cave mouth, the dragon was waiting to receive him. When both combatants were ready, the dragon spewed forth a great gout of flame. Woebluf purposely held up his new shield which instantly became red-hot. Woebluf was protected from much of the blast, but now his arm was burning on the shield. He began to scream and flail his shield arm about trying to be rid of the searing hot metal affixed to and cooking his arm. He ran about trying to keep the hot object away from his body and tried to pull it off desperately with his other hand, which succeeded in badly burning his fingers and palm, so he would be unable to pick up his weapon again. He continued screaming and hopping until the shield finally fell off taking most of the flesh from his arm with it. Woebluf fell to his knees holding his arms to his chest shaking and howling in anguish, blind with pain. The dragon, now tired of watching the hopping, crying thing, breathed another spray of flame that entirely engulfed Woebluf. The dragon turned and went back to its cave and let the fire burn the man's body to a fine ash.

The warriors atop the hill, witnesses to the whole battle, stood stonily watching the smoke rising from the pile of their leader. They turned to Hondscio. He stepped up and looked down. The wind was picking up and began to blow the smoke and ash about in little whorls upon the earth and in the air spreading the remains about. He would have to act fast.

Then Hondscio spoke:

"Aww, fuck it."

~*~

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Excerpts taken or revised from "Beowulf," retold by Rosemary Sutcliff, E.P. Dutton & Co., Inc., New York, 1962.