Beowulf: Curse of the Dreygurs

SAVE A TRAITOR

The fleeing Geats and their Angle companion reached the edge of the forest, retracing their path toward the border. As the group rounded a bend in the trail, they came across three people on a horse. It was Leofe along with her two ghosts. Sigibert and Weohstan appeared as pale as the dreygurs they chased. Beowulf's friend still carried the bloodstains across his face. The thegns threw out mocking jokes about their comrades playing dead, but the conversations revealed the happiness at finding them alive.

"It's about time to you joined us," Beowulf told them. "While you've been sleeping, we've helped ourselves to spoils from Urien." Beowulf offered his forearm to Weohstan while giving him a sympathetic grin.

"I'm glad you made it."

Weohstan grabbed Beowulf's forearm and thanked his friend.

"How about you, my God thegn?" Beowulf asked Sigibert. The monk gave his leader a thin smile that looked like a grimace.

"God willing, I'll last as long as the rest of this group," the monk declared.

Beowulf gave a hearty laugh as he watched Leofe slide off the mount Sigibert sat on. His eyes followed her taking one of the smaller ponies.

"I'm glad all of you survived. It should make the rest of the journey easier for us." Beowulf told them drolly. He turned his mount, and the group set off toward Bernicia.

During the journey, the group swung by the mound where they were captured, but they found no trace of Appa. While Glappa made one more pass around the area, Weohstan told Beowulf about his escape from death during the fighting the night before. His friend mocked those Brythonians who failed to finish him off. He told Beowulf the extent of Sigibert's injury and Leofe's skill of attending to their wounds. He also complained about losing his weapons.

Beowulf laughed as he slowed the line of men and horses for a moment.

"Fear not my friend. We got most of our weapons and armor back before we escaped." He told him. Beowulf had Swidhun pull the Weohstan's sword from the pile which was strapped on the back of his mount.

"So, what are we doing now? It appears we are retreating." There was disapproval in Weohstan's voice as he sliced at the air several times before sliding the sword into his scabbard.

"Yes," Beowulf replied. He spurred his mount forward.

Weohstan recognized his friend was disappointed. It was the correct decision to get his outnumbered men away from the Rheged warriors. Undoubtedly, more would be coming after them.

As he rode in silence, Beowulf burned with humiliation as he reflected on the past few days. He knew the scops would soon spread the disgrace of his capture across the lands. While they escaped with horses as trophies, he still felt like he lost to King Urien. The thought gnawed at the pit of his stomach. Beowulf wanted some way to atone for their capture.

Worse, doubts began to fill him again. Beowulf had no plan now and no real idea of what to do next. The monsters no longer concerned them. They were free, but he was running away from an enemy. Bitterness and uncertainty were two things Beowulf seldom encountered. Now, they were at his elbows, helping him flee.

Beowulf's attention turned to Glappa who galloped back after scouting ahead. He informed them he found the trail of his brother. While he listened to Glappa, Beowulf noticed how the clouds turned dark.

It appears the gods are testing me.

After Glappa's report, the group moved at a faster pace to catch Appa. Breaking out of the relative comfort of the forest, they encountered a stiff, cold wind coming in from the north. It wasn't long before they found the bodies of two bandits lying in the road. Beowulf and Glappa dismounted to look at the corpses.