Read Online Beowulf by Rosemary Sutcliff - Free Book Online

life goes out from my body I shall not have to answer to the All-Father for slain kinsfolk or unjust rule.’
    He propped himself on to his elbow and looked about him, and his gaze came to rest on the carcass of the fire-drake lying sprawled before the entrance to the cave. ‘I have paid away my life to slay the thing which would have slain my people, and now I see it lying dead before me. But if the thief’s tale be true, then I have won for them in my last battle some store of treasure also, and that too I would see before the light goes from my eyes. Go now, Wiglaf, my kinsman, and bring out to me what you can carry.’
    Wiglaf, who had been kneeling at his lord’s side, got to his feet and stumbling past the still twitching coils of the dead monster, went into the cave.
    Within the entrance he came to a halt, staring with scarce-believing eyes at the piled-up wonders of the fire-drake’s hoard. Golden cups and pitchers, jewelled collars for a king’s throat, ancient ring-mail and boar-masked helmets and swords eaten through with rust; and upreared high above the rest, a golden banner curiously wrought with long-forgotten magic, which shone of itself, and shed about it a faint light in which he saw all the rest. But he had neither the time nor the heart for much marvelling. In frantic haste he loaded himself with cups and arm-rings and weapons, and the banner last of all, and carried them out into the daylight and flung them clanging down at the old man’s feet.
    Beowulf lay still with his eyes closed, and the blood still flowing from his wounds. But when Wiglaf fetched more water from the stream and again bathed his face he revived once more, and opened his eyes to gaze upon the treasure as it lay glittering among the rocks. ‘A fine bright gleam of gold to light me on my way,’ he said. ‘Glad am I that since the time has come for me to go I may leave behind me such treasure for my people.’ Then his gaze abandoned the glitter of the dragon’s hoard, and went out and upward to where the great bluff forehead of the Whale’s Ness upreared itself against the sky. ‘After the bale-fire is burned out, bid them raise me a burial howe on the Whale’s Ness yonder, a tall howe on the cliff edge, that it may serve as a mark for seafaring men such as I was in my youth. So they may see it from afar as they pass on the Sail-Road, and say, “There stands Beowulf’s Barrow” and remember me.’
    For the last time his gaze went to young Wiglaf’s face, and his hands were at his wounded throat, fumbling off the golden collar of the Kingship. ‘Take this also, with my war-gear.’ His voice was only a whisper now. ‘Use it well, for you are the last of our kindred. One by one, Wyrd has swept them all away at their fated hour; and now it is time for me to go to them.’
    And with the words scarce spoken, a great sigh broke from him and he fell back into the young warrior’s arms. And Wiglaf laid him down.
    He was still sitting at his dead lord’s shoulder when a shadow fell across them both and, looking up slowly, he saw that the King’s hearth-companions had come stealing down from the high woods of their refuge, and were standing about him staring down in shame at slain hero and slain monster. He did not trouble to rise, but sitting drearily where he was, stony-eyed, he flayed them with all the bitter scorn that was in his heart. ‘So you come, do you, now that the fire is spent! Well may men say, seeing you safe and unmarked in the war-gear that Beowulf gave you, that he made a bad bargain with his gifts. When his sorest need came upon him he had no cause to boast of his companions in arms. Small honour will Geatland have in her foremost warriors, when the princes of other lands hear of this day’s work! Aye, you have kept whole your skins under your bright battle-sarks; but it may be that death is better for a warrior than