~3~

As the Geat warriors bedded down in Herot, their armor having been returned to them, Aglaeca held out Beowulf's helmet, "You should wear this."

Beowulf shook his head, "No, it will only slow me down, and I'm going to need all of my speed to succeed tonight."

"There you go again about your running ability," Aglaeca muttered.

Beowulf grinned, "It is not my fault that I was blessed with the speed of a cheetah."

"Yeah, you can run sixty miles per hour and I'm a goat," Aglaeca said sarcastically.

"That would explain how you can eat such strange things," Beowulf teased.

Aglaeca fondly punched his friends shoulder, before he said, his emerald eyes meeting Beowulf's sea blue ones, "I still wish you would wear the armor. You have already given up using weapons I don…"

"I will not use weapons, but I will use my environment if necessary," Beowulf interrupted, his eyes lingering on a long chain and shackles that rested on one of the walls.

Aglaeca followed his gaze, "All right. I'd still feel better if you were wearing your armor, but I know there's no point in arguing with you." Aglaeca went back to setting up his own sleeping mat on Beowulf's left. On Beowulf's right, closest to the door, was another warrior, who was already asleep. Beowulf settled onto his mat, drawing a blanket over himself, and slowed his breathing so he would appear to be asleep.

The accursed rogue, Headho, did not keep them waiting. With one pound from his hand, the door shattered, and with a massive leap, Headho had grabbed the warrior next to Beowulf, before the young warrior could react.

As Beowulf threw off his blanket, and rolled off his mat, ready to fight, he couldn't help the feeling of terror that gripped his limbs as he beheld Headho. Headho was a humanoid, his limbs resembling humans. He had webbed hands that were scaled, with vicious claws, his body was scaled as well, with hair appearing to grow just over the scales, his feet were webbed as well, his body was built like a troll's for the most part, but his legs were different, like that of an animals, his legs were strong and muscular so he could leap at his prey. It wasn't his body that struck such terror in Beowulf though, it was the monster's head. Headho's head was human for the most part, stiff hairs covered the top of his head, his pale scale and body hair gave way to pale skin, his eyes lacked a pupil, and he had a short muzzle that protruded from his face. He had sharp teeth, and his nostrils were slits, they kept opening and closing as he breathed. He stood at least eight feet in height.

No wonder Grendel went undescribed…this creature is horrifying! With his hesitation, his fellow Geat was torn apart before his eyes. Headho eagerly licked at the blood that spilled from his dead companion's torn form.

Cursing himself for his cowardice, he rushed at the grotesque creature. Headho dropped the dead Geat, and met Beowulf's charge. As the two collided, now grappling with the other, Beowulf felt terror to creep into his mind again, as he started to slide backwards, his sneakers squeaking to protest as Beowulf tried to push back against the monster's strength. What was I thinking? This isn't going to work!

A dull thunk resounded as something struck Headho from behind, Algaeca staggered backwards from the recoil of his blade not penetrating flesh. His eyes wide with fear, Algaeca shouted, "Swords won't work on him!"

So I noticed, Beowulf thought dryly, having staved his terror with the bravery that his friend had demonstrated. With each shove that the monster forced against him, Beowulf started to gauge the monster's strength and the timing of each shove. When he finally noticed a pattern, Beowulf waited for Headho to shove again, when the shove came, Beowulf released Headho and leapt away, the monster keeling forward and striking the far wall.

With a shriek of rage, hatred, and a bit of fear, Headho turned to face Beowulf again. Beowulf watched Headho's every move, and dodged the monster every time it came near him. After several charges from Headho, Beowulf was panting, sweat dripping down his neck, I can't keep this up much longer…I need to end this soon… Headho leapt at Beowulf at that moment, and Beowulf, anticipating a charge, merely moved to the side, but Headho's claws raked his right side and he cried out with pain and shock. He laid his right hand on his bleeding side, judging the severity of his injury, shallow…the leather managed to take the brunt of his claws…I'm starting to wish that I had worn armor!

When Headho leapt at him again, he ducked under the creature and raced towards the wall with the chain and shackles, he heard Headho pounding towards him, and he managed to put on a burst of speed. He yanked the chain off the wall, and let it slither to the floor beside him, a Headho got closer and closer. Headho leapt at him again, and as Beowulf ducked under him, he managed to get the chain around Headho's arm.

Headho roared in shock as he felt the chain on his arm, and he ran towards the door, eager to escape the strange, young warrior. Beowulf wrapped his end of the chain around a support pole several times and grimly held on to what little chain remained as Headho reached the end of the chain.

Headho felt the chain tighten, and struggled against it, his roars of rage and pain turning to shrieks of pain and terror as the chain dug into his scales and flesh. With a heave, Headho pulled free, and a horrendous screech of pain reverberated throughout Herot and the land of the Danes as sinew and muscles parted from his body, leaving his arm, and a bloody mess behind.

Beowulf released his end of the chain, and he staggered forward, leaning against the pole, trembling, his hands bleeding from the chain digging into them. He barely registered that someone had placed a hand on his shoulder.

Algaeca said, "You did well for someone who had no weapons or armor."

"I shouldn't be this exhausted," Beowulf muttered.

"Remember," Algaeca reassured him. "Tales were exaggerated a bit back in Anglo-Saxon times."

Beowulf remained silent as he went towards the Geat warrior who had died due to his fear. He knelt beside the mangled remains of the warrior, his head bowed.

Algaeca said, having followed Beowulf, "No one blames you for your hesitation. Headho was a creature the likes of which we've never encountered."

"It is no excuse," Beowulf murmured. He glanced at Headho's arm and he staggered towards it. Algaeca made to help support him when Beowulf snapped, "Don't touch me!" Algaeca stopped in his tracks, dismayed at his best friend's sudden change in mood. He watched in silence as Beowulf struggled to throw the end of chain over one of the rafters. After many throws, Beowulf managed to get the chain over one rafter, he was gasping for breath as he attempted to pull Headho's arm up into the air. When several of the other Geat warriors moved to help him, he snapped at them to leave him alone as well.

After managing to get the arm into the air, and only a few inches away from the rafter, Beowulf tied the chain to a pole so the arm would not fall to the floor of Herot.

In a better mood, Beowulf said, "Let's go tell King Hrothgar that Headho is defeated."

"If not dead," Algaeca said, glancing out the doorway at the trail of blood.

Beowulf nodded in agreement, "Yes, if not dead."

One of the Geat warriors inquired, "Should one of us tend to your wounds first?"

"No," Beowulf asserted. "I'd rather Hrothgar see me right after battle then if I had my wounds tended to first."

The other Geat warriors murmured praises for Beowulf.