Grendel
In the hall they were laughing. Men and women stood talking in the light of the meadhall door and on the narrow streets below; on the lower hillside boys and girls play near the sheep pens, shyly holding hands.
I made myself move more slowly. Then, circling the clearing, I stepped on something fleshy, and jerked away. It was a man. They’d cut his throat. His clothes had been stolen. I stared up at the hall, baffled, beginning to shake. They went on talking softly, touching hands, their hair full of light. I lifted up the body and slung it across my shoulder.
Then the harp began to play. The crowd grew still.
The harp sighed, the old man sang, as sweet-voiced as a child.
The harp turned solemn. He told of an ancient feud between two brothers which split all the world between darkness and light. And I, Grendel, was the dark side, he said in effect. The terrible race God cursed.
I believed him. Such was the power of the Shaper’s harp! I stood wriggling my face, letting tears down my nose, grinding my fists into my streaming eyes, even thought to do it I had to squeeze with my elbow the corpse of the proof that both of us were cursed, or neither, that the brothers had never lived, not the god who judged them. “Waaa!” I bawled.
Oh what a conversion!
I ran to the center of the forest and fell down panting. My mind was wild. “Pity,” I moaned, “O pity! pity!” I wept - strong monster with teeth like a shark’s - and I slammed the earth with such force that a seam split open twelve feet long. I roared!
They were doomed, I knew, and I was glad. No denying it. Let them wander the fogroads of Hell.
I made myself move more slowly. Then, circling the clearing, I stepped on something fleshy, and jerked away. It was a man. They’d cut his throat. His clothes had been stolen. I stared up at the hall, baffled, beginning to shake. They went on talking softly, touching hands, their hair full of light. I lifted up the body and slung it across my shoulder.
Then the harp began to play. The crowd grew still.
The harp sighed, the old man sang, as sweet-voiced as a child.
The harp turned solemn. He told of an ancient feud between two brothers which split all the world between darkness and light. And I, Grendel, was the dark side, he said in effect. The terrible race God cursed.
I believed him. Such was the power of the Shaper’s harp! I stood wriggling my face, letting tears down my nose, grinding my fists into my streaming eyes, even thought to do it I had to squeeze with my elbow the corpse of the proof that both of us were cursed, or neither, that the brothers had never lived, not the god who judged them. “Waaa!” I bawled.
Oh what a conversion!
I ran to the center of the forest and fell down panting. My mind was wild. “Pity,” I moaned, “O pity! pity!” I wept - strong monster with teeth like a shark’s - and I slammed the earth with such force that a seam split open twelve feet long. I roared!
They were doomed, I knew, and I was glad. No denying it. Let them wander the fogroads of Hell.