A Warrior among the giants
It was the year of our Lord 96 and Christendom was slowly making its way northward from Rome.
The stillness of the night was shattered by a woman screaming, her voice rising and falling in pitch as she went from an eerie keening wail to an agonized shrieking punctuated by "Th' monster hath killed again! A hus carl hath been slain in th' heorth...Help! Help! Help!"
This was followed by the sounds of doors being flung open and booted feet running, guided only by the flickering glare of torches held high before their bearers.
Grim faced men rushed to the woman's side, hands poised to draw blade or give aid. They stood in a circle gazing down at the bloody mess lying on the rush strewn floor of the heorth.
It was a sight to make even the most battle hardened of them blanch. He had been a hus carl, a hand picked and trusted member of the lord's household.
He lay on his back, his sightless eyes staring at the smoke stained beams above. His broken sword lay in pieces among the rushes.
His last opponent had simply swept it out of his hands and killed him with a single blow that had caved in his steel helmet and crushed his skull.
It was his scale mail being ripped open and the gaping hole in his abdomen that chilled the toughest of them.
His guts had been removed and were nowhere to be seen.
It was as if they had been eaten.
One of the younger men suddenly turned away and vomited on the floor of the heorth, overcome by the gory sight before him.
Another man turned to admonish him when the oldest among them said tersely, "Leave him be, he hath shown his bravery in broil , no cowardly youth is he. Truth be told, would I had not seen this sort of thing ere, I would hast joined him! "
The young man, having emptied his stomach completely, rejoined them and said weakly, "What manner of thing could hast done this? No poleax could rip a man open thus. "
Someone held a torch over the rent in the dead man's chain mail and muttered, "'twas torn open, a pole arm or a sword would've cut the links. These are bent and stretched as would they were just pulled apart like corky linen. No man born of woman, could hast done this deed. "
"th' second time this month, th' eighth time this year, shall none join to our aid?" grumbled an older man.
The oldest man muttered, "A man didst join from athwart the sea last summer, a Geatish warrior stout and firm-set , or so he boasted. Fifteen of his fellows came with him, warriors all and well armed with bright swords and sharp spears. They wore cunningly wrought mail to protect themselves and iron helmets covered their heads. 'twas all for naught, the monster killed 'em as easily as we would dispatch a child. We inurn'd what we could find of 'em in hallowed ground. "
The warrior's poor remains were gathered up and he was carried off for burial after the priest had said prayers for his departed soul.
The grey light of dawn found the king bleary eyed and haggard.
The monster from the fens had been attacking his great house and slaughtering his people without mercy.
Even the strongest warriors stood little chance against the creature's great strength. Swords and axes could not harm him, spears could not pierce him and shields and armor only delayed the inevitable.
The attacks had commenced shortly after the great house had been built in a display of the king's wealth and pride in his accomplishments.
Now it was falling into disrepair in a reflection of the king's mood, why bother fixing the broken doors if the monster was only going to break through them and slay his warriors?
There had been a glimmering of hope when the Geatish warriors had arrived by boat and took up their positions in the great hall.
A feast in their honor had been held and casks of mead had been breached to celebrate their advent and to wish them good fortune.
Three short days later, the last of them was dead, including their leader who had gone by a name that sounded like Bearwolf.
The boat that had brought them was still lying on its side, slowly falling apart.
No one wished to claim it, it was felt to be cursed.
It was late spring when a strange sight met the eyes of the morning watchman at the gates to the heorth.
A gray cloaked traveler was approaching on foot.
The traveler's hood was pulled low over the eyes and only a smooth, beardless face could be seen, the eyes remained hidden.
The traveler carried only a well laden back pack, a water bottle and was armed with a great sword and nothing more.
The watchman eased himself to his feet and stepped out into the roadway.
Belatedly, he realized that the traveler was quite tall, far taller than him at just under six feet in height.
This person stood well over six feet in height although the cloak hid the traveler's form rather well.
The apparent ease with which the traveler carried his burden bespoke great strength.
The watchman raised his hand in salute and spoke,"Good day weary traveler, what endues thou hither ? Hast thou business with the king? From whence didst thou join? Please forgive mine impertinence for I might not but bid this of all travelers."
The tall traveler paused then pulled back the hood to reveal a woman's face, fair to behold with silvery grey eyes.
She smiled slightly and replied,"My name is Sheila and I came from far to the south of here. I have heard tell of a monster, a slayer of men, I came to dispatch it."
The watchman stifled a grin and remarked,"Thou are a woman, if no man could slay this beast, what causes thee regard thou'd be able to where so many men hast failed?"
Sheila smiled slightly and replied,"Perhaps a woman shall succeed, where so many men have perished in the attempt?"
The watchman grinned and said, "Thou beareth a great sword, are thou skilled with it? If not, be on thy way and troubleth me no more."
Sheila simply set down her heavy pack, took off her travel stained cloak and unhooked her great sword, the heavy claymore she had carried for centuries.
She smiled at the watchman and asked,"What would you have me do with this?"
He paused a moment to think, then said, "Try to strike me with thy blade, first blood wins."
He drew his own sword and took up a defensive stance behind his stout shield.
Sheila merely smiled and said, "Are you certain about this?"
The watchman hunkered behind his defenses and and said grimly, "Join upon me if thou dare and if thou dare not, aroint thee!"
Sheila carefully judged the distance between herself and the watchman at the gate.
Meanwhile, a small crowd had gathered out of curiosity, it wasn't very often a woman traveling alone and bearing a great sword was seen at the town's gate.
Sheila eyed her opponent as if picking out a target, then moments later she swung her blade in a great sweeping arc that transected his stout shield.
Cleaving the top half of his shield with almost contemptuous ease.
As the shorn off top half fell to the ground, the watchman leapt back, his grey eyes fairly bulging from their sockets in his surprise at the power and accuracy of her sword cut.
She could have easily slain him with her great blade, of that he had no doubts.
Gaping at the freshly made cut across the top of his shield he exclaimed,"By the gods woman, thou could hast killed me! This buckler was designed to fend off the monster's clawed hands. Yet thou clove it in twain with mere ease! Are thou a goddess among men to hast such strength?"
Sheila smiled at him as a murmur at his remarks wandered through the crowd, this tall foreign woman of incredible strength and matchless beauty, had to be a goddess descended upon midgard itself.
She replied,"I am no goddess, I was born of a mortal woman and had a mortal father. A monster much like the one attacking your people killed my people from a time long hence. I learned how to fight these monsters starting in my childhood. Now I seek them out and dispatch them to avenge my long lost people. That and nothing more."
Her reply did little to quell the murmurings of her possible divinity as she stood silently awaiting the watchman's decision.
Finally, he took up an aurochs horn and blew a reverberating note that echoed from the heorth's walls.
Moments later, an older warrior emerged from the largest building.
Like the watchman, he was clad in finely wrought mail with a polished steel helmet covering his hair, a sword hung at his side.
He strode up to the two of them and said with a hint of annoyance, "Thou hast blown the warning horn, yet I see only one woman hither. Wouldst thou hast me send her aroint? Couldn't thou send her aroint yourself?"
He squinted at Sheila and muttered, "Art not thou the tall one, from whence didst thou join?"
Sheila replied as before, "My name is Sheila and I came from far to the south of here. I have heard tell of a monster, a slayer of men, I came to dispatch it."
The older man grinned and was about to remark when the watchman held up his freshly cloven shield and said simply, "She this did in a single blow with her great sword. The crowd shall bear witness."
His eyes fairly bulged from their sockets as he gaped at the smooth, clean cut her sword had made through the stout, iron reinforced shield borne by the watchman.
He muttered half to himself, "By the gods, such power belongs to the gods alone."
He squinted at Sheila's towering form, "Are thou a goddess?"
When she shook her head in a 'no' he remarked, "A Jotun haply?"
Sheila looked puzzled and asked, "What is a Jotun? I've not heard of such before now."
He replied,"Jotuns are a race of giants living in the frozen lands to the north of hither. Although they seem to be disappearing as we move farther north."
Sheila thought a moment, then asked, "Why would you regard me as a giantess? I am not so tall to be considered as such!"
He smiled at her and remarked,"Thou are the tallest woman I hast aye seen and thy strength is far ranker than mine own. Doth thou still wonder why I would regard thou as being a giantess?"
Sheila could only shrug at his remark and comment, "I have journeyed many months to get here to offer my sword to your king, to end this monster's reign of terror. Shall you show me to your king?"
The grizzled warrior pointed out the great hall and said, "Leave thy things hither, no weapons are allowed in the presence of our lord."
Sheila laid her great sword across her pack and strode towards the great hall.
Leaving the two warriors to marvel at her sword.
It was larger than anything they had seen, its gleaming blade glinting in the sunlight and its cross guard and hilt well polished from long use.
Who had made it and where had it come from they wondered as the tall woman entered the heorth of their lord.
As she made to enter the hall, a warrior standing guard blocked her path with his spear.
"Who thou to seek entry to the heorth? What name shall I grant to mine lord?" He spoke.
"I am called Sheila and I came to slay the monster plaguing your lord's house."
The warrior smirked and replied, "Thou may be taller than any other woman I hast aye seen, yet, thou are still a woman and a woman's place, is by her spinning wheel."
Sheila sighed, men could be so tedious at times.
Before he could even react, Sheila disarmed him and he found himself staring at the carefully sharpened point of his spear, mere inches from his nose.
"Still think my place is by a spinning wheel?" she purred.
He gulped, not only had she moved with astonishing swiftness but her strength was far beyond his.
This travel stained woman was far more than a mere woman bereft of her spinning wheel.
"Thou may enter." he managed to say.
With a smile Sheila returned his spear and stepped past him.
The interior of the heorth was dimly lit after the bright sunlight of outside.
For a moment Sheila paused to let her eyes adjust to the gloom.
She saw a dais at one end of the heorth, on it was a stout chair overlaid with a bear skin.
The man sitting in it looked haunted with fear.
Standing to either side of him was a warrior armed with a sword.
The taller one spoke, "Who thou and why are thou hither ? Declare yourself, yet hast a care, for thou are ere our lord!"
Clearing her throat, Sheila spoke clearly, "I am called Sheila and I have traveled from afar to slay the monster haunting this hall and your dreams."
The man hunched on the stout chair peered at her in the gloom and muttered, "By thy voice and thy brow , I deem thou are a woman. What causes thee regard thou shall succeed, where so many stout hearted warriors hast failed?"
She replied, "I was raised and trained to slay these monsters and have slain many of them in my travels, my sword is specially made just for killing monsters. It has no equals in the northlands."
The king glowered at her and said,"A blade without equal you say? Bring me this matchless blade so that I may gaze upon it!"
A young warrior dashed outside and moments later, returned bearing Sheila's great sword.
Stepping before his king, he went to one knee and held the gleaming sword out before him with both hands laid flat.
It was indeed grander than any blade the king had yet to see.
He leaned forward slightly and gazed upon its length, "It is as you say, a blade no sword smith of my acquaintance could make."
Straightening up again he fixed her with his gaze and said, "Are your skills the equal of this blade, perchance?"
Sheila smiled slightly at the care worn king and replied, "I like to think so, your grace."
"Hast thou the strength to cleave a stout buckler in twain?"
Sheila replied, "Ask the fate of your younger gate guard's buckler from just a few minutes ago."
The king glanced at another warrior and nodded, the warrior dashed outside to retrieve the younger of the two gate guards on duty that morning.
A minute later, the mail clad gate guard entered the heorth and bowed to his liege lord.
His buckler was in plain sight and all could see it had its entire top half shorn off as if by a heavy cleaver.
The king asked softly, "How is it that your buckler came to be missing its top half?"
The gate guard hesitated a bit then answered his king's query, "It was cloven in twain by yon woman your majesty, she clove it with her sword, the very sword your guardsman is holding."
"Oh? Pray, tell me more." instructed the king, now showing more interest in things than he had in months.
The arrival of this mysterious woman and her great sword had roused him from his torpor.
The gate guard cleared his throat and told his tale of encountering the woman at the gates and deciding to test her skills with a bit of sword play as the very idea of a woman bearing such a sword, seemed so unusual.
When he finished his tale he held up his cloven buckler and said, "Now I find myself in need of a new buckler, your Majesty!"
The king looked around inside the smoky heorth then pointed at one of the great wooden pillars holding up the roof of the structure.
"Try thy blade and thy strength on yon pillar. But first! Let my strongest warrior have a go at it using thy sword."
Sheila merely nodded her assent of his demands.
The king smiled and said, "Fetch me Rolf Bonebreaker, forthwith!"
The page he'd directed his command to sped out outside calling for Rolf Bonebreaker to come before the king.
Within moments the fleet footed page returned with the lumbering Rolf Bonebreaker in tow.
He was one of the largest men Sheila had ever seen, with greatly muscled arms and shoulders.
His legs were like tree trunks in their girth, he looked down at Sheila briefly then directed his gaze at king Angull.
The huge man bowed before his king and said, "Thou wisheth to see me, your Majesty?"
The king smiled and said, "Aye, taketh up yon great sword and strike that pillar with it, hold nothing back when you swing!"
Rolf took up Sheila's massive sword and asked, "Whence came this sword, I've not seen its like afore?"
"It came from my homeland, I know not how it was made." replied Sheila.
Rolf looked the towering flaxen haired woman up and down, she was as nearly tall as him and well muscled, no lightweight was she.
Hefting the massive sword experimentally he commented, "It is heavy and made quite strongly, why is that?"
"It was made for killing monsters, monsters, the likes of which haunts this heorth late at night."
Rolf stepped over to the massive wooden pillar and after a few warm up swings, aimed a terrific blow at the hapless pillar.
Everyone there saw him swing and everyone there agreed it was a mighty swing, one sufficiently strong to fell an ox.
They heard a loud 'Chonk!" sound and the massive blade was buried about half of its considerable width into the sturdy wooden pillar, and there it was stuck.
Rolf tugged on it a few times and declared, "Thy sword is stuck."
Sheila smiled at him and with one hand, jerked the blade free of the sturdy pillar.
Rolf struggled to keep from gaping at her apparent strength.
She motioned for him to step back and give her room to swing.
Noting that the king was leaning forward in fascination rather than bored indifference, Sheila swung her great sword with murderous intent and before their eyes, her gleaming blade sheared clear through the thick as a strong man's waist wooden pillar, cleaving it in twain.
"God's teeth!" exclaimed the king as a chorus of muted gasps came from the other witnesses to her strength..
Sheila smiled at him and said, "I fear this pillar needs to be bound with iron to restore its former strength."
The king looked her over and said, "What will be thy fee to kill the monster Grendl?"
Sheila pondered his question and after a few moments, replied, "Ten pounds of hacksilver will suffice, your Majesty."
Leaning back in his surprise the king declared, "Ten pounds of hack silver, seems hardly enough for slaying a monster such as Grendl, are thou certain it is enough?"
Sheila smiled and replied, "My needs are few, I wander the lands seeking monsters to slay, it is my geas to slay them, the hack silver merely pays for food and drink and an occasional night in a tavern room."
"On your head be it then." he said, then he said to a page, "Fetch this woman's things and place them near th' hearth where she will be staying."
That evening as the others feasted, Sheila sat quietly in the shadows eating and drinking only sparingly, her great sword lying nearby.
The last thing the king saw as he went to his bed, was her still seated near the fire.
The hours passed slowly and the fire burned low as the rest of the heorth slept uneasily, for this was when the monster was most likely to strike.
The stout doors, made doubly strong by the addition of extra iron bands at it weak points suddenly shivered under the force of the blow that crashed into them.
The boom reverberated through the heorth, jolting everyone awake and Sheila stood, her sword at the ready, waiting to greet their nocturnal visitor with sharp steel and a strong sword arm.
With a crash the doors flew open and nearly came off their massive hinges, a testimony to the skills of the blacksmiths who forged them.
The monstrous figure of Grendl entered the great hall of King Angull and stopped when he beheld Sheila standing there, her sword at the ready.
He laughed and said scornfully, "Are there no men left to face me, have they fled afore my wrath?"
He waved his hand dismissively at Sheila, "Aroint thee woman! I hae nae quarrel with thou."
Sheila replied, "I am your foe now, o' monstrous one, come and face me if you durst."
Grendl looked her over and said, "Thou are a strong woman, that is plain to see. Art thou strong enough to face me unarmed?"
Sheila chuckled derisively and commented, "You have mistaken me for a fool if you think I will fall for that ploy."
Hearing noises behind her, Sheila kept her steely gray eyes on the monstrous form confronting her.
The monster grinned, his mouth filled with sharp teeth as he said, "Thy companions have joined ye, though it matters not. Their spears cannot pierce me nor can their swords cut me, they lack the strength. Dost thou possess the strength?"
"Enough! Join me in battle or leave forever and be known as a coward before a mere woman!" she cried in response.
The monster roared and leapt upon Sheila, nearly bearing her to the floor of the heorth.
Forced to drop her sword, she gripped his arm and twisted it, eliciting a howl of anguish from the beastly man.
He tried in vain to pull free and make his escape as she continued to pull at his massive arm and clawed hand.
They all heard his shoulder joint crunching and tendons snapping as she placed one foot on his body and finally tore his misshapen arm and hand away from his monstrous form.
He gave out a great cry of anguish as he managed to break free of his tormentor and flee into the darkness, blood trailing from his mortal injury.
Sheila turned to face the king and his hus carls, all of them arrayed in mail and armed with their great axes.
Tossing the mangled arm and hand at his feet she said, "On the morrow, we can follow his blood trail to his den."
The king looked down at the mighty limb torn from the monster's body, he and the others could plainly see the iron hard claws that could rend a doughty warrior's heaviest mail with ease and rip a man's entrails from his body before his dying eyes.
He looked up and said, "Thy strength is without equal, of that I am certain."
Sheila sighed and said, "This is not over lord King, someone gave birth to him an' will likely seek her vengeance for his death."
The next day the mood was one of relief, the monster was likely dead if the blood trail he'd left behind was any indicator.
The words of the strange woman from afar weighed on people's minds.
What sort of a mother could such a hideous monster have and how could anyone love such a foul being.
Hunters had followed the monster's blood trail out into the hinterlands where the dismal mere lay and there they had lost his trail amidst the noisome pools of greenish water.
That night Angull the king feasted like he had not been able to in many long months.
He sat at the long table with his queen Wealtheow and Eschere, his most trusted adviser beside him and they drank mead.
Sheila was not with them as she was eating with the other women folk, even though she was the warrior who had slain the monstrous Grendl.
Custom dictated that she was to eat with the women.
Only the queen could eat with the men.
Sheila upon being told that merely shrugged and muttered, "T'was ever thus." as she left to join the women at their own meal.
When darkness came.
Lord Angull and Wealtheow went to their bed, but many warriors wanted to sleep in the hall as they used to do.
They moved the mead-benches and put down bedding.
They placed their shields at their heads and weapons near at hand.
It is no use.
One man will pay with his life for that night's rest.
For Grendl's mother comes in from the moors, sobbing for her son.
She is savage with sorrow.
She will get her revenge.
She dashes through the door, screeching when she sees her son's arm hanging there.
The warriors leap up, grabbing their swords.
Now they have seen her, she must get out fast before more warriors arrive.
She snatches a man swiftly in one great clawed hand and runs from the hall.
It is Eschere, Lord Angull's most trusted man.
The Heorth is full of the shouts of men and the screams of women.
Eschere's blood spatters the floor, but she is gone, and Grendel's arm and hand has gone with her.
Sheila arrives too late to prevent the attack and the theft of Grendl's arm and hand.
Grey-haired Lord Angull called Sheila to him, "My dearest man is dead, Eschere my friend and adviser. A terrible she-ogre carried him off. People living in the countryside often say they have seen two monsters prowling about, a he and a she, two horrible shapes bigger than any man moving in the mist"
'Where do these creatures live?' Sheila asked him.
"Out on the hillsides" Angull replied, "In some wild craggy place with only wolves and the howling wind for company. There is a mere, a great dark pool with thorny trees all tangled and covered with frost. Huge caves beneath the stormy waters are the monsters' home. At night people say you can sometimes see fire on the pool. A deer hunted by hounds will rather die on the bank than dive into those dreadful waters. You are our only hope, dear Sheila."
"The country is strange to you. Do you dare to seek the
she-monster?"
Sheila gazed steadily at the distraught king and replied,"T'is better to avenge a friend than to weep over him. While I may die in the attempt, know that I will try my best to stop this creature from carrying out her blood feud with you and your people, Lord King. I promise you where'er she may be hiding, she will not escape me!"
Early the next morning, Sheila led by a couple of hunters left the Heorth in search of Grendl's mother.
Her trail was easily followed even by Lord Angull and his entourage who were following Sheila and her guides.
Out into the great moor they went following the trail left by Grendl's mother.
Eventually it led them up a rocky hillside topped by scraggly trees twisted by the ill winds incessantly blowing over them.
Cresting this rise they beheld a wide stretch or murky water lapping at the rocks below them.
Seeing the trail still leading the way, they clambered down the rocky slope, dislodging small stones as they descended to the murky waters lapping at the rocky shore.
Great serpents lay in plain sight on the rocks and in the murky waters, when one raised its scaly head to look at them, one of Sheila's guides shot it with an arrow and as it thrashed out the remainder of its life, they speared it and hauled it out of the water.
It was as long as a ship and terrible to behold.
Above them they heard the blowing of Lord Angull's war horn and as it echoed among the rocks, they saw Eschere's head lying on the shore as a grisly warning and trophy.
The monster's revenge was only beginning.
Impatient to begin the battle, Sheila dove into the mere and swam straight down, her sword in her hand.
As she swam ever deeper, the monstrous dam of Grendl became aware of her approach through her many long tendrils cunningly arrayed throughout the mere.
Springing her trap, Grendl's mother wrapped her many tendrils around Sheila's form and hauled her into ever deeper water.
Unable to even move her sword arm, Sheila could only imagine her fate at the hands of Grendl's hideous mother.
Death by drowning, or death by strangulation, neither one sounded appealing.
When the waters grew too murky to see, Sheila found herself being hauled out of the water and she was able to take a great breath of air, even if it reeked of foulness, it was still air.
Looking about, she found herself in a well lighted cavern far beneath the mere's bubbling surface.
"Hast thou come here seeking to avenge thy companion?" Purred a woman's voice behind her.
"I seek to avenge the death of my only son and companion. I have no quarrel with you."
Turning around, Sheila saw Grendl's mother's form for the first time and she instinctively tightened her grip on her sword.
The woman, if such a word could be used to describe her, stood in the center of a maze of tendrils stretching out in all directions, some of them were still wrapped around Sheila's towering form.
Her slit pupiled eyes glanced at Sheila's massive sword and a twisted smile formed on her monstrous lips.
She licked her lips and in a language Sheila had nearly forgotten, asked,"What number were you before the organization fell?"
She tilted her head slightly in anticipation of Sheila's reply.
"I was a number 47 and my name is Sheila Ericcson. Who am I addressing?"
The monster laughed, a sound completely at odds with her appearance as it issued from her mouth.
"I was a number 2 before I awakened, my name is Agatha, you may know me as Bloody Agatha and you, my young warrior are in waay over your head." She purred in reply to Sheila's query.
Agatha's tendrils suddenly wrenched Sheila's sword from her hand and tossed it away.
Agatha purred, "No sense in letting you keep that ridiculous sword, you just might try to hit me with it!"
Her tendrils forced Sheila to the floor of the cavern beneath the mere and as she struggled against Agatha's tendrils, Agatha's naked form straddled her and began grinding her hips against Sheila's in a lewd manner.
Agatha purred, "'Tis a pity you aren't a big strong man, you might be worth playing with for a time before I eat you."
Agatha bared her teeth and murmured, "It has been so very long since I last raped a warrior to death, I'll have to make sure I don't rush things."
She leaned over Sheila's supine form dangling her pendulous breasts in her face and rubbing her protruding nipples across Sheila's upturned mouth while murmuring, "Suck them, suckle my tits!".
She ground her dripping crotch against Sheila's as she forced one leg between Sheila's and began grinding against her towering prisoner.
Sheila began to groan as her own hips unwillingly began responding to Agatha's thrusts and Agatha purred, "I knew you would see it my way soon enough. You warriors were always so frustrated that so few men could bring themselves to lie with you."
Her moans filled the dripping cavern as she forced herself on Sheila who was now obediently sucking on Agatha's swollen nipples.
Agatha had thrown her grisly head back in her ecstasy and Sheila seeing a blade lying close at hand, seized her one chance by reaching for the blade and ramming it into Agatha's throat with all her strength, a strength born out of desperation.
Agatha shrieked and rolled off of Sheila who quickly retrieved her great claymore sword and clove Agatha's head from her body.
Agatha's head rolled aside as Sheila tossed her twitching carcass to one side and stood up.
Her eyes sought Sheila's and her mouth opened and closed soundlessly as she worked her jaw one last time, in an effort to say something.
Sheila purred, "I never had any troubles finding a man to lie with me!"
Agatha's blazing eyes grew dim and rolled up as her jaw slackened, her last words left unsaid.
Thus passed the last of the rogue awakened beings.
Sheila stood gazing down at the corpse of Bloody Agatha, she would make note of the date and place she had perished so she could report this to Miria her captain when she saw her again.
Every century or so, she would meet up with a few of her sisters and they would tell of their travels so the others would know.
Sheila looked about the strangely well lit cavern and saw Grendl's monstrous corpse lying in repose on a pile of diverse things accumulated by the two of them in their prowlings across the beleagured countryside.
She cut off his misshapen head and secured it with some old sword belts she saw lying nearby.
Sheila took one last look around the strange cavern far beneath the mere, secured her massive sword, took a deep breath and dove into the waters.
Returning to the surface, she rose from the water and saw the king and his courtiers waiting for her return.
The sun's height in the sky told her it was the ninth hour of the day, she had been underwater for several hours.
The battle had gone on for far longer than she had realized.
Climbing out of the water and stepping onto dry land again, Sheila stood still to let the worst of the water drip from her clothes.
Smiling at the king, she untied the bundle fastened to her belt and held it up for all to see.
"They are both dead Lord King, this is my proof, the head of Grendl to be hung up where the crows can feed on his head and all can see he is no more." she announced.
King Angull smiled at her then gestured at two of his warriors, they stepped forward and took the grisly trophy from Sheila's outstretched hand.
Its weight surprised them and they took it away.
He smiled at her and said, "You have our thanks and our gratitude for ridding us of this nightmare we have all suffered under."
King Angull looked at Sheila's battle ravaged garment and said, "Thy garments are torn and bloodied. Let it not be said I was not appreciative, come to our Heorth and I will have our women folk make you new clothes befitting your stature."
Sheila smiled at the king and glanced down at herself, one of her breasts was exposed, doubtless it had happened during Bloody Agatha's assault.
She glanced around and saw one of the king's men taking off his cloak then offering it to her, while avoiding the opportunity to glance at her exposed breast.
Sheila smiled as she donned the welcome cloak and thanked the sturdy warrior.
King Angull looked around at everyone and declared, "We have come to seek our revenge and achieved our aim. Let us away to the Heorth, where food and drink awaits!"
It was well after dark by the time they got back with the head of the late, lamented Eschere and the monstrous head of Grendl.
Grendl's head was promptly placed on a pikestaff outside the mead hall for all to see, while Eschere's head would be placed inside a finely wrought casket and given a proper burial.
Freya was handed over to the womenfolk where they made her new garments befitting her stature and lifestyle.
Per her agreement with King Angull, he gave her the ten pounds of hacksilver she asked for.
It consisted of a mixture of silver coins, brooches and bits of silver flatware and plate.
Once she was paid she continued north towards the towering glaciers seen from the Heorth.
King Angull had her story, the story of the battle with Grendl and his mother written down by his scribes.
Weeks had passed since she left the Heorth and the land was growing colder, the ice more prevalent.
The cold did not bother her because of her ability to adjust her body's temperature to suit the weather.
Nor did she fear encountering any monsters this far north where the land reminded her of her childhood home so long ago.
She briefly paused in her travels to ponder how long it had been since she had left the island where she had been born and raised, the island where she became a warrior and later rebelled against the very organization that had given her a form of immortality, even though they did not realize it at the time.
The years had become centuries and now they were becoming millenia, how long before they became eras, she wondered.
It was in the frozen north where she found her heart's desire.
She saw him as he was carrying a log over one massive shoulder, he was a giant in every sense of the word.
Standing ten feet tall, he strode along carrying a great double bitted axe in one hand and balancing a great log on his mountainous shoulder with ease as he walked.
His hair was a reddish color and his great beard was a deeper red, he was so big she felt like a child in his presence.
Her senses told her he was a gentle being for all his size and rough aspect, and so she stepped out from behind the snow drift where she had hidden upon seeing him for the first time.
He stopped short, his bright blue eyes seeing her for the first time.
This flaxen haired woman stood up before him, he noted the huge sword she had across her back and briefly pondered how he would defend himself against her.
Sheila held up one hand and said, "Hello, my name is Sheila. May I ask who I am addressing?"
The giant stood his log on one end, put down his axe and thought for a moment before he said, "Me nam is Thorfinn, Thorfinn Redbeard."
His accent was fairly thick and Sheila thought about his reply before she said, "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Thorfinn."
He peered at her for a long moment before he asked, "Ur ye one ay those 'Scandi's' Ah've heard tell ay?"
Sheila looked up at him and asked, "What, pray tell, is a Scandi?"
Thorfinn pondered her reply and after a few moments, said, "A Scandi is one ay th' wee fowk frae doon sooth, they come in lang ships bearin' bright sharp swords an' spears."
He frowned, "They attack withit mercy, killin' man, woman an' bairn, they burn doon uir haems an' steal whit they loch."
He looked back the way she had come and said, "Me fowk hae been movin' north e'er since they first mit th' Scandis, tae get awa' frae them."
He sighed, "Once th' ice covered th' lain an' it was jist us, uir wuid elves, uir guardian wolves an' uir horses.
"When th' ice started meltin' an' th' lain began tae warm up, th' Scandis started tae appear wi' their spears a'stabbin'!"
"Can't you fight back? You're so much bigger than any 'Scandi' as you put it." she asked.
The giant smiled slightly and said ruefully, "Onie one ay us is as strang as any five ay them, an' ef it was jist hand to hand, defendin' uirselfs woods be easy, we coods jist crunch them wi' uir bare hands an' walk awa'."
"They use sharp swords an' bright spears an' they're light oan their feet an' they fight three tae one against us."
He fell silent and after a few moments said, "Sae we retreated tae th' northlands where th' ice is an' they arenae."
Thorfinn looked Sheila over and asked, "Whit is it ye ur seekin' amidst th' ice an' snow?"
She smiled at him and replied,"Not sure really, I heard tell of the frost giants up north and how they could freeze me in my tracks or bring down a mountain of ice and snow on me using their frost magic.
"I came because the northlands remind me of my childhood home and the innocence of my childhood."
His voice rumbled his reply, "Huv ye foond these Frost Giants ay yoors?"
Sheila grinned, "I found a pretty big man, that's for certain, but I haven't seen you doing any ice magic or bringing down a mountain on my head.
She winked at him "I'm almost disappointed."
Thorfinn laughed, it was a deep rumbling chortle that came up from deep inside his torso, gathering energy until it burst forth in a great, booming laugh that seemed to echo from the hillsides above them.
After a moment or two he wiped a tear of laughter from his bright blue eyes and said with a smile,"Ah loch ye, woods ye caur tae see me haem?"
Sheila grinned at him, "I'd like that, it sure would beat another night of sleeping in the snow!"
Thorfinn grinned at her, picked up his axe, hefted his log back onto his massive shoulder and said, "We're nae far frae me haem, wull be thaur verra suin."
He set out at a brisk pace and as Sheila fell in beside him he said, "Ef me stride is too lang, Ah can slow up a bit for ye."
"Your pace is just fine, don't hold back on my account."
They strode along with purpose at a mile eating pace, the trail they were following led them higher into the rocky hills snuggling up against the huge ice clad mountains in the distance.
The air grew colder and misty and before long, the mist became ice crystals swirling and dancing in the air around them.
Their breaths condensing into a fog of microscopic ice crystals hanging in the air before them as they walked.
Thorfinn trudged on, a rime of ice crystals clinging to his beard, hair and eyebrows.
He glanced over at Sheila and saw that she also had a rime of ice crystals clinging to her hair and eyebrows.
He asked, "Hoo ur ye farin'? E'en th' strongest ay th' Scandis cannae abide thes cauld fur lang."
She replied, "The cold doesn't bother me, I can adjust my body temperature according to the climate I'm in."
They crested the trail he had been following and paused to gaze at the frozen landscape stretching out before them.
The mountains rose on either side of the trail they were following that led into a narrow mountain valley nearly invisible in the freezing cold mist.
The narrow valley before them was hidden beneath a swirling cloud of ice crystals and only the very tops of the great trees hidden from view were visible.
Thorfinn said softly, "Uir haem."
Setting out at a brisk pace again, he confidently strode deeper into the swirling mists and soon, all they could see was the swirling mist and the trees glittering with hoarfrost they were walking through.
Some time later, they emerged from the misty cloud that hung over the narrow valley and for the first time, Sheila saw what the Scandis had called Jotunheim, the home of the frost giants.
The floor of the valley was carpeted by enormous pine trees, larger than any trees she had ever heard of.
The largest ones appeared to be holding up the roof of cloud that hid everything from view.
It was so cold that even the air seemed to be brittle from the cold and that any violent movement might shatter the air itself.
As she looked at the vista before her, Sheila's warm breath froze in mid air and turned into little snow flakes that drifted to the cold, hard ground beneath their booted feet.
Thorfinn smiled at her, shifted his log on his shoulder and said, "Cam wi' me an Ah'll show ye aroond."
Sheila looked around her in amazement as she entered the frozen home of the Jotuns.
Gigantic children played while their enormous furred guardians relaxed nearby, calm but alert.
The wolves were the size of ponies and could be ridden by a small human adult or a Jotun child.
To her surprise, she realized it was warmer than it should have been among the rough hewn houses of the giants, was this the ice magic she had heard of?
For the first time she saw a wood elf, he was a young man carrying his tools with him as he went about his business, much like any other young man.
Except he was only about two and a half feet tall, had brown skin and hair and wore rough looking homespun clothing.
Not far away was a wood elf girl carrying a basket under one arm, in contrast to the wood elf boy, she was fair haired and fair skinned and wore a long blue dress with a green bodice and a red jacket over all.
A real cutie was the wood elf girl.
Thorfinn continued on to a building that had various pieces of furniture arrayed out in front, almost as if it was a carpenter's shop displaying its wares.
Stopping in front of the building, Thorfinn set down his axe, stood up his log and called out, "Ah've brooght th' log ye requested, whaur d'ye want it?"
"Jist set it doon oniewhaur ye'd loch!" boomed a voice from within the carpenter's shop.
"Aye!" replied Thorfinn and he leaned it against the building's wall then called out, "Ah leant it agin th' wall ay yoor shop."
"'At'll dae, thenk ye. Noo Ah can get tae finishin' th' bed fur ye sister's bairn."
Moments later another enormous man came outside his shop clad in rough woolen clothing and wearing a large leather apron to protect his clothing while he worked.
He smiled at Thorfinn, then Sheila caught his eye, his eyes narrowed briefly and he said, "Whaur did ye fin' th' Scandi?"
Thorfinn replied, "Ah dinnae 'hink she is a Scandi, she cam throogh th' ice mist barrier wi' nae problems whaur a Scandi woods hae frozen tae daith. Look at 'er eyes, hae ye e'er seen sich eyes as 'ers afore? An' whit Scandi woman woods be carryin' sich a blade as 'ers?"
The gigantic man pondered Thorfinn's words and finally said, "Ye hae a point, nae Scandi coods pass throogh th' ice mist barrier, an' ne'er hae Ah seen eyes sich as 'ers nor woods a Scandi woman be armed sich as she is."
He asked Sheila, "Whaur dae ye cam frae an' whit brings ye up haur?"
Sheila replied, "I came from a land now sunk beneath the sea and on that land I lived in the mountains of rock, snow and ice. I came to the northlands to kill a monster that was feeding on men and it was there, I learned of the giants living in the mountains."
Shrugging off her heavy pack and setting it down, she said,"I came here thinking I would see giants much like the ones I had fought so long ago that men have forgotten them."
She smiled, "You folk are bigger than most any men I have seen in my travels, but you have women and children, loved ones like most everyone else.
"The giants I fought had none of that, they were akin to dragons or so they claimed. All I know is that they were hard to kill and fought fiercely to the end."
Thorfinn said quietly, "Noo 'at ye hae seen us as we ur, whit ur ye gang tae dae next?"
Sheila smiled at him and said, "I think I'd to stay up here for a while, if you don't mind."
Thorfinn smiled at Sheila as he took up his great axe and said, "Ye can stay wi' me if ye'd loch, Ah abide by meself an' hae th' room fur ye."
Sheila smiled at him, took up her back pack and said, "I'd like that!"
Thorfinn smiled at her and with a gesture he led the way, and soon they disappeared into the swirling ice mists of Jotunheim.
17