Beowulf (6 page)

D
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and down sank Beowulf into the cold swinging depths; down and down for what seemed the whole of a day. From all sides the tusked sea beasts rushed in upon him, striving to gore him to pieces; and ever as he sank he fought them off with stroke and lunge of the great sword Hrunting. At last his feet touched the sea floor, and instantly an enemy far more dire was upon him, as the Sea-Hag leapt to fling her arms about him, clutching him to her with claws as terrible as her son's had been. He was being rushed through the black depths, close-locked in her dreadful embrace, and now, still together, they were diving upward through the under-water mouth of a cave.

Up and up . . . They were in a vast sea-hall above the tide line, white sand underfoot, and the faint light of day falling in shafts from some opening to the cliff top far above. Beowulf tore himself free and springing clear for a sword stroke, brought Hrunting whistling down on her head. The cave rang with the blow, but for the first time since it was forged the blade refused to bite, and next instant she was upon him once more. He stumbled beneath her onslaught and she flung him down with herself on top of him, stabbing again and again at his breast with her saex, her broad-bladed dagger, and when that failed to pierce his battle-sark clawing and worrying at him as though she were a wolf indeed. He saw her fangs sharp behind her snarling lips, and her eyes shone with balefire amid the tangle of her hair; but the ring-mail of the Queen's gift withstood her still, and gathering his strength he flung her off a second time, and springing up, aimed at her a blow that should have swept her head from her shoulders.

Again her charmed hide turned the stroke; and with a cry he flung the useless weapon aside. ‘Come then, my naked hands shall serve me as they served me in the hall of Hrothgar!' and he sprang to meet her next attack.

There on the silver sand, with the roar of the sea echoing about them hollow like the echo in a vast shell, he with one arm locked about her and the other straining at her dagger wrist, she striving always with fang and claw to come at his heart, they reeled and trampled to and fro, as two nights since he had reeled and trampled to and fro with Grendel in the darkened hall of Heorot.

Long and bitter was the struggle, but there was a strength in the Sea-Hag that had not been in her son, and Beowulf could not overcome it. Some weapon he must have, and as he fought he snatched desperate glances about him in search of one. Here and there ancient weapons hung on the rock walls of the cavern, and amongst them the light from the roof fell upon one sword, a huge sword, dwarf-wrought perhaps for giants in the far-past days, for it was so long in the blade and broad in the grip that no mortal man save Beowulf could have wielded it. Seeing it, his heart leapt up with fresh hope, and gathering all his strength and cunning he gave way before the Sea-Hag's onslaught, then swerved and sprang sideways past her, to snatch it from the wall. His hand closed over the hilt, and with a triumphant battle-shout he whirled around and brought the blade down upon her in a flashing swoop of fire.

It shored through hair and hide and bone, and Grendel's Dam dropped without a sound, her hideous head all but smitten from her shoulders.

Beowulf stood still, panting from his struggle, and looked about him, while the magic blade dripped red in his hand. Far off at the water's edge, the light from the upper world showed him the gigantic body of Grendel lying outstretched, dead, and he strode towards it across the stained and trampled sand. Here at last, it seemed, he had a blade that could pierce the flesh of Grendel and his kin, and raising it once more with a mighty effort he smote loathsome head and loathsome body asunder. Blood streamed out into the water in a murky crimson flood that the sea sucked under and out through the mouth of the cave. And as Beowulf stood gazing down at the dead monster, the thick dark blood dripping along the blade ate into it and melted it away like ice in the warmth of a fire, until nothing was left but the wondrous gold-wrought hilt in his hand.

Then Beowulf stooped and twisted his free hand in the snaky hair of the severed head, and with the sword hilt still in the other, dived down to the cave mouth and triumphantly up through the water that was now clear and bright; up and up towards the daylight far above him.

Meanwhile the Geats and Danes had waited all the long-drawn day, watching from the deserted walrus rocks, and as the sun began to wester, they beheld a great gout of blood that came bursting up from the depths as though the sea-hole itself were vomiting blood. They crowded to the brink, staring downward with eyes that strained in their heads, but it was a sight to shake the boldest heart, and as the moments lengthened and brought no sign of Beowulf, the hope that they had clung to all day dwindled and grew thin like the red stain washing seaward on the waves.

At last Hrothgar stirred with a heavy sigh. ‘It is over, then, and we shall not see him again, Beowulf who was as a son to me,' and he turned away to the rocky gloom under the trees where the stream came down. ‘Come, there is nought to be gained by biding longer in this place.'

And sadly, like warriors straggling back from defeat, his thanes followed him as he set his face to the long upward climb.

But Beowulf's Geats remained, almost as empty of hope as those who followed Hrothgar, but faithful to their lord, who had bidden them wait for him. And hardly had the wave-roar engulfed the last sounds of the departing Danes, than Waegmund sprang up, pointing. ‘Look! Look! The creatures are all making out to sea! It is as though they fled for their lives!' And another of the little band took up his cry. ‘Look! Look at the water! It is clean and clear!' and as they slithered and stumbled forward to the outermost edges of the weed-slippery rocks, shouting to each other while the great walruses swam away, they saw far down through the water that was clear now as green crystal, the longed-for shape of Beowulf springing up towards them.

Eager arms reached down to aid him ashore as he broke surface, scattering the white foam from his shoulders; and then he was among them, stretched, spent, upon the rocks, drawing the free air into himself in great gasps like a runner at the end of a hard-won race, while they thronged about him to loosen off his helmet and stare with awe and wonder at the blind snarling head that he had flung down beside him, and the huge bladeless sword hilt he still clutched in his hand.

‘Oh, it is good to see your faces again, my brothers!' said Beowulf as soon as he could speak; and then looking about him, ‘But where are Hrothgar and his thanes?

Did they find the waiting over-long?'

‘They saw the wave of blood that boiled up from below,' said Waegmund, kneeling beside him, ‘and their hearts told them that there was nothing more to wait for.'

‘That was the blood of the Sea-Hag, and Grendel's blood that gushed out when I smote his head from his body lying dead down there,' Beowulf said. ‘And you? Did you not also see the blood-wave?'

‘Aye, we saw it.'

‘But your hearts did not bid you lose hope?'

Waegmund bent his head. ‘As to hope, there was little enough of that left to us, but we were still your war-boat's crew, your shoulder-to-shoulder men.'

‘And so you stayed,' Beowulf said: And suddenly he laughed on a note that was like the song of victorious war-horns, and sprang up, holding out his arms to them. ‘And that is well, for see, it will take four spears at the least to carry the monster's head back to Heorot!'

And so, with Grendel's head upreared on four spear points in their midst, they turned to the gorge that led up towards the high moors, and leaving the sea-hole cleansed of evil behind them, set out on their triumphant way back to the settlement.

T
HE
sun was sinking fast as they came down through the tilled land to Heorot, and their shadows stretched out sideways far across the young barley, and high on the gable end of the King's hall the gilded antlers of the stag caught the last of the sunset and flared like a branch of many-forked flames. Folk came running to houseplace doorways as they passed, but the champions strode straight on to the King's threshold and up through the hall, to fling the grizzly head down at Hrothgar's feet where he sat sorrowfully in his High Seat.

‘Rouse up and be glad, Hrothgar of the Danes!' Beowulf cried. ‘Look now upon the sea-spoil that we bring you.'

But Hrothgar, leaning forward in his chair, was already looking, as though there was nothing else in all the world to look at but Grendel's severed head lying among the rushes at his feet. Then he raised his own head and looked at Beowulf and the triumphant Geats behind him.

‘I never thought to see you stand again in this hall, Beowulf son of Ecgtheow,' he said slowly, and then, ‘The Dam also is dead?'

‘The Dam also is dead, but I could bring you only this one head for a trophy. One head, and the sword with which I smote it off. But see, only the hilt is left; the blood of the monster melted the blade away,' and Beowulf held out to the King the huge sword hilt that was wrought all over with writhing golden serpents.

Hrothgar took and gazed at it in wonder. Then looking up again, he said, ‘So, there has been a great fight and many marvels here. Tell me now the story of all that has passed since you dived into the waves above the Night-Stalker's lair.'

And so, standing proudly before the old King as he sat with the ancient hilt in his hands, Beowulf told of his fight with the Sea-Hag, making of the story a kind of triumph song as he went along, after the way of his people when there was a victory to relate.

When the song was ended, Hrothgar rose from his seat and flung his arms about the young champion's shoulders, and could find no words to speak, because Aschere was worthily avenged and henceforth men might indeed sleep safely in Heorot the Hart.

That night the Geats and Danes feasted together as they had feasted the night before, and more gifts were showered upon Beowulf and his sword-brothers, and the mead horns passed round and the fires leapt high, and the King's bard woke the music of his harp. And when it grew late and the time for mead and harp-song was past, Geats and Danes together slept peacefully in Heorot until the first light stole across the moors and the cocks were crowing.

When the sun was up and the settlement busy about the new day, Beowulf sought out the King in his own place. ‘The thing that we came to do is done,' he said. ‘Heorot is a safe sleeping place henceforth; and now it is time that I go back to Hygelac, my own King and House-Lord.'