VIKING: THE THRONE OF BEOWULF: The Killing Beast Was Released (Viking, Throne, Legend, Thriller, Beowulf, Murder, Gotland Saga) by Arwen Grim Page B

subjects were heaping upon him. He was failing; he could not protect them the way a king ought to.
    He was old and ailing – he couldn’t take on Grendel and win against the beast. He would only be killed and leave his people behind without a leader of any sort.
    His heart ached as he walked up the stairs of the castle, leading straight to the watcher’s tower. In the distance, he could hear the merry making from Heorot grow louder and louder; a part of him worried that the noise would awaken the killing beast he knew was sleeping deep in the woods of Germania. But he trusted that Wealhtheow would keep things under control; his queen was only a woman, but she was fierce and she knew how to run the state – it was how he had survived all these years.
    Once, Heorot had been his crowning glory; once, he had been a powerful and fierce warrior, ready to take on the most powerful of beasts. Once, he had even been capable of defeating them. Now, he was old and he was king – he had to protect his people, but he knew not how.
    Bitterness welled up within him as he trudged up the stairs. His old knees ached and he found it hard to breathe as he climbed step after step. How easily he used to race up these very stairs in his youth! Sighing a third time, he finally huffed his way on to the final step, breathing in deeply as the cold night air whipped across his face and lifted his long beard.
    The world was finally quiet.
    Swallowing hard, Hrothgar walked towards the wall, looking over his kingdom – from up here, he could see every inch of his lands, spread out in front of him. The lands of which he was ruler… the lands he sought to keep safe from the beast that dwelt in the woods that bordered Daner. His people knew nothing of Grendel yet, but it would not be long before they discovered the truth.
    Grendel was deep asleep within the woods even now, he knew. Guilt swelled bitter on his tongue; what had he done ? In an attempt to bring prosperity to his people, in his attempt to ensure that his name lived on in the bards’ glory forever, he had doomed his people to an eternity of suffering.
    He had no heirs; he had only wanted his name to continue. Was he so very wrong?
    “The feast is to honor your strength, Milord,” Wealhtheow’s voice from behind him was soft and he turned around in surprise, fists automatically raised to punch the throat of whoever had snuck up on him. His queen simply raised her eyebrow and he dropped his arms instantly, shaking his head mutely.
    “What strength do you speak of, Milady?” he asked hoarsely, “Even now, the people face the horror of my ‘strength’. I made a deal with the Devil and our kingdom suffers for it.”
    “Then why do you stand here and do nothing about it?” she asked softly, “You are a hero, a warrior . You have been, all your life. You saved us from the dragons that threatened our lands and you have protected us all through these years. Why do your hands hesitate now to wield the sword?”
    She moved in closer, her hand trailing over the hilt of his sword, her body curving into his. The years had been kind to her; she was still as beautiful as the day they had wed. But more than that, she had grown stronger, capable of commanding and leading their people without him by her side, as she had done in all the years he was out defending their borders from the monsters that attacked Daner.
    She would do it again if he but asked.
    “I am no longer a young man, Milady,” he whispered, allowing himself to be weak in front of her. He couldn’t show vulnerability to his people; he was a man and he was a king – he must be strong. But this was his woman and she was gentleness personified. She could soothe the hurt in his heart.
    “I am growing older and I cannot defeat Grendel,” he mourned. Wealhtheow pulled him close, holding him to her breast and stroking his hair.

“Then you should not have released him in the first place,” her voice was accusatory but her hands