Read Online VIKING: THE THRONE OF BEOWULF: The Killing Beast Was Released (Viking, Throne, Legend, Thriller, Beowulf, Murder, Gotland Saga) by Arwen Grim - Free Book Online
Authors: Arwen Grim
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began to slide off his back.
“NO!” he roared and yanked himself back up, punching Grendel repeatedly at the top of his head. Slimy, oozing liquid spurted out of the side of his temple and Wiglaf was horrified to realize that it must be the creature’s brain – the red wetness of its blood still coated Wiglaf’s own blade.
Grendel howled in pain, grabbing the random tables and chairs and goblets lying around the mead hall and threw them at his own head, trying to get Beowulf off of him. Seeing that he had no choice, the king leapt off his back, throwing himself to the rigs on top of the mead hall a second time, using the ropes holding the curtains back to swing to the side and then land right back on top of the growling Grendel. He wrapped the rope around the creature’s side, even as the monster shrieked in agony and moved about like a startled bull, trying to throw him off.
“ Now , men!” Beowulf screamed and the men roared back, launching an attack of spears and swords – they threw their weapons at Grendel, who, caught as he was in the rope, could do little more than duck down, taking Beowulf with him. The distraction was enough for the warrior to completely wrap the rope around the creature’s arms and he jumped off its back, holding to one end of the rope tightly and running back to where the men were waiting.
The fire was beginning to blaze now, trapping them all inside the mead hall. From the outside, Wiglaf could hear the cries of the Danes, calling for the Geats to be safe and praying for them to return home. Ignoring them all, Wiglaf grabbed the end of the rope that Beowulf offered him and ran to the opposite side.
They now were in a literal tug of war with the monster, Beowulf on one side, Grendel on the other, both of them pulling and pulling.
“To arms, men!” Wiglaf cried and instantly, the seven men accompanying them took their positions on either side, splitting to join them.
Grendel howled to the moon in agony as they pulled on his limb, tearing it apart from side to side.
“ Mo-mo-motha-mot -” his voice was strangely humanoid and Wiglaf’s spine chilled as he realized – the monster was calling for its mother.
His terrified eyes met Beowulf’s across the monster’s body and in his Lord’s face, Wiglaf saw that Beowulf too, had figured it out.
Fortunately, it seemed like the rest of the men were as yet clueless. Wiglaf offered Beowulf a nod – it was time to end this, before things turned even nastier than they already were.
With another raw throated yell, Beowulf yanked on the rope hard and Wiglaf let go, motioning for his men to do the same. Beowulf and the men on his side ducked – Grendel’s big body, propelled by the momentum, flew over their heads, smashing against the still open door, falling to the other side. As it sailed past him, Beowulf grabbed the end of the rope and then yanked back – Grendel was once again pulled in the opposite direction, his arm sliding against the door clean enough even as Beowulf slammed it shut.
The creature’s arm slid down, cleanly cut off, blood dripping from the side. Beowulf threw the door open – Grendel lay there, groaning and bleeding.
“Beowulf!” Wiglaf yelled and threw him his sword – the warrior caught it without fanfare and jumped forward to kill the monster –
- only to have Grendel howl and throw him off, surging to his enormous feet and running off into the woods.
“I’m going after him, protect the people!” Beowulf called to Wiglaf. Before his second in command could reply, the king of Gotland took off after the beast, chasing it into the woods.
He followed it all the way into the swamp – for a creature as massive as he was, the killer beast could run. Blood dripped along his path, creating a clear trail and Beowulf stopped worrying about losing him in the dark; he’d be able to track him if he had to.
But the entire chase was for naught – when finally the warrior came to the middle of the swamp,
“NO!” he roared and yanked himself back up, punching Grendel repeatedly at the top of his head. Slimy, oozing liquid spurted out of the side of his temple and Wiglaf was horrified to realize that it must be the creature’s brain – the red wetness of its blood still coated Wiglaf’s own blade.
Grendel howled in pain, grabbing the random tables and chairs and goblets lying around the mead hall and threw them at his own head, trying to get Beowulf off of him. Seeing that he had no choice, the king leapt off his back, throwing himself to the rigs on top of the mead hall a second time, using the ropes holding the curtains back to swing to the side and then land right back on top of the growling Grendel. He wrapped the rope around the creature’s side, even as the monster shrieked in agony and moved about like a startled bull, trying to throw him off.
“ Now , men!” Beowulf screamed and the men roared back, launching an attack of spears and swords – they threw their weapons at Grendel, who, caught as he was in the rope, could do little more than duck down, taking Beowulf with him. The distraction was enough for the warrior to completely wrap the rope around the creature’s arms and he jumped off its back, holding to one end of the rope tightly and running back to where the men were waiting.
The fire was beginning to blaze now, trapping them all inside the mead hall. From the outside, Wiglaf could hear the cries of the Danes, calling for the Geats to be safe and praying for them to return home. Ignoring them all, Wiglaf grabbed the end of the rope that Beowulf offered him and ran to the opposite side.
They now were in a literal tug of war with the monster, Beowulf on one side, Grendel on the other, both of them pulling and pulling.
“To arms, men!” Wiglaf cried and instantly, the seven men accompanying them took their positions on either side, splitting to join them.
Grendel howled to the moon in agony as they pulled on his limb, tearing it apart from side to side.
“ Mo-mo-motha-mot -” his voice was strangely humanoid and Wiglaf’s spine chilled as he realized – the monster was calling for its mother.
His terrified eyes met Beowulf’s across the monster’s body and in his Lord’s face, Wiglaf saw that Beowulf too, had figured it out.
Fortunately, it seemed like the rest of the men were as yet clueless. Wiglaf offered Beowulf a nod – it was time to end this, before things turned even nastier than they already were.
With another raw throated yell, Beowulf yanked on the rope hard and Wiglaf let go, motioning for his men to do the same. Beowulf and the men on his side ducked – Grendel’s big body, propelled by the momentum, flew over their heads, smashing against the still open door, falling to the other side. As it sailed past him, Beowulf grabbed the end of the rope and then yanked back – Grendel was once again pulled in the opposite direction, his arm sliding against the door clean enough even as Beowulf slammed it shut.
The creature’s arm slid down, cleanly cut off, blood dripping from the side. Beowulf threw the door open – Grendel lay there, groaning and bleeding.
“Beowulf!” Wiglaf yelled and threw him his sword – the warrior caught it without fanfare and jumped forward to kill the monster –
- only to have Grendel howl and throw him off, surging to his enormous feet and running off into the woods.
“I’m going after him, protect the people!” Beowulf called to Wiglaf. Before his second in command could reply, the king of Gotland took off after the beast, chasing it into the woods.
He followed it all the way into the swamp – for a creature as massive as he was, the killer beast could run. Blood dripped along his path, creating a clear trail and Beowulf stopped worrying about losing him in the dark; he’d be able to track him if he had to.
But the entire chase was for naught – when finally the warrior came to the middle of the swamp,
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