Not Quite Beowulf

By Will Shand

The truth behind the old legend! The honest story of the King, the Monster and the Hero; the real Beowulf revealed in a tale that puts the darkness back in the dark ages!
Colonial King Lars builds his imperialistic Beer Hall on the ancestral swamp of the Trolls causing a conflict that (quite literally) rips apart the feudal world. He is forced to send for the sinister Beowulf in order to defeat his nemesis, the revolutionary Troll, Grendel. Beowulf, however, has plans of his own. As the forces of Man and Nature collide friends and foes are not all they seem. Except for Gareth, the Royal Dog; he is exactly what he seems.
Beowulf, Grendel and King Lars battle for control of the Biggest Beer Hall There Has Ever Been; and, although we all think we know the story, the outcome is very far from sure.
Beer, Blood, Fire, Death and Danger are all out there as the struggle for power begins!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Will Shand
• Release date: Jul 10, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311199034

Will Shand

Will Shand was born sometime in the last century and has pottered around doing a number of jobs since that happy event. Most of these have been in some way connected with education. Having written such classics as 'A Pay Structure for Teaching Assistants' and 'Attendance Policy Update' he decided to try and write something more fun; and so he wrote, 'Not Quite Beowulf' a novel that set out to explore some of the political and ethical philosophy underlying the old tale, but really was just a bit of an excuse for a rather twisted adventure story. He enjoyed this so much that he immediately started a sequel that promises to be every bit as foolish as the first book. When not writing or working (surely writing isn’t working?) he likes to run, read and watch films. He is lucky enough to have a terrific family and live in Worthing, which as all men know is the true earthly paradise.

Book preview

Not Quite Beowulf

Will Shand

Published by Will Shand at Smashwords

Copyright Will Shand 2014

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Chapter One

In which we are fortunate enough to meet The Great King Lars, foremost monarch of the earth. We learn of his grand plan and discover some of the unintended consequences of his actions.

A long time ago, in the North, lived The Great King Lars. The Great King was so called, because he had slain and smote all his many enemies with the power and armour of Steelstrom the steel smith. As the last of his enemies lay feebly expiring from the cruel blows of the King’s mighty weapons a vision came to him and he spoke,

‘In honour of my mighty victories, with capital raised by Bjorn the banker, I will build the Biggest Beer Hall There Has Ever Been and within this hall, all (of a certain level of wealth and social standing) may celebrate my victories at an endless feast that will be funded by my dominion over this part of the earth!’

All, of a certain level of wealth and social standing, cheered.

King Lars sprang into action to achieve his plan. First he called for his throne, and then, when properly seated, ordered workers and raw materials to be rounded up. He commanded that captured architects should be tormented until they produced a suitably megalomaniac design. He requisitioned the largest supply of beer and meat ever seen, and had it swiftly delivered to his capital.

For over a year Lars’ armies plundered the surrounding lands, bringing all they could carry to the site of The Great Beer Hall-To-Be. Peasants laboured, builders built, glaziers glazed and interior designers outdid each other in the sword, shield and animal head décor that was to become known as Nouveau Macho. Eventually King Lars declared that he was, ‘as satisfied as I am likely to get’ and pronounced the Great Beer Hall open with the following inspiring speech,

‘I, King Lars the magnificent, whom Heaven and God has clearly set over all of you, because I am so truly glorious and magnanimous, invite all (of a certain level of wealth and social standing) to feast in my hall: The Biggest Beer Hall There Has Ever Been, to celebrate my triumph and live within the protection of my mighty law, until the end of the world.’

At the end of this noble declaration a disproportionately small number of the population entered happily into the Hall and began to feast. But this was far from the end of the story.

Not far from The Biggest Beer Hall There Has Ever Been was a small unpleasant lake that had become increasingly inhospitable due to the dumping of builders’ waste and the toxic runoff from the King Lars Brewery (purveyors of fine ales, mead and miscellaneous spirits to His Majesty, King Lars, Ruler of The Earth). Deep in this now rather murky lake, in a small cave that was hidden below the surface of the water, lived a single mother and her son, whose name was Grendel. They were trolls. Trolls are a bit bigger than other people and like to eat a lot; being hardworking, energetic and really rather hungry. They have very strong arms, hands and fingernails, developed through generations of surviving in hard, rugged areas, where men prefer not to dwell. They are reputed to be green and scaly, but could more accurately be described as ‘grey and tough.’ Most impartial observers find them honest, courageous and likable. King Lars, however, did not like them.

‘They aren’t proper people, like Me.’ he would say, ‘and they eat ever such a lot; almost as much as I do.’ The thing about the trolls that really displeased him most of all, was that they were, as he saw it, on his land, and that was unforgivable.

In days gone by the trolls subsisted on the plentiful stocks of fish who lived in the lake, however as the King Lars Brewery began to produce an unprecedented stream of ale to quench the thirst of the inhabitants of the new Hall, the lake became so polluted that the only fish to be seen were direly in need of detoxification; most had simply died of alcoholism. The trolls, due to the scarcity of fish, grew leaner and even hungrier.

It is worth noting that, in trying to peacefully resolve their problem, the trolls had asked Steelstrom the steel smith if they could use some machinery of his invention to clear the lake and they had approached Bjorn the banker for finance to commence this project; however Steelstrom was engaged in important research on the manufacture of even deadlier swords (‘the Ultimate Metal Deterrent’) and Bjorn found that his commitments towards the construction of The Biggest Beer Hall There Has Ever Been left him with no spare capital for unimportant projects. He kindly suggested to the trolls that they did have options; they could slowly evolve into creatures that could live on waste products (therefore becoming an asset to the local community), or, they could move (there were some disease-infested uncleared jungles a convenient three month journey away), or, they could do everyone a favour and just drop dead where they were, preferably not in such a way as to spoil the King’s view.

Grendel, being an idealistic young troll, was greatly troubled by the situation of the trolls, especially in their somewhat uneven relationship with the state as manifested by the Kingdom of Lars. He had begun to take long thoughtful walks around the contaminated lake each evening, while the setting sun caused the polluted water to glow and the reflections of the industrial rubble and waste cast interesting shadows on the oily discharge that gushed forth from the breweries’ outflow pipes. As he wandered, he pondered such questions as ‘how should a moral troll act in time of trouble?’ and ‘would a benevolent Deity have allowed King Lars to build his beer hall at such a terrible cost to Trollkind?’

During his thoughtful evening walks he was always conscious of the growing hunger in his belly and he felt a growing sadness that, when he returned home, he would find his mother more weak and hungry than she had been the day before. His powerlessness infuriated him, but he could find no remedy. It was on a summer evening such as this, when, as he walked and thought, comforted by the gentle hiss of the toxic gas seeping from the discarded containers of industrial waste, that Grendel missed his path home and wandered, by mistake, into the gardens of The Biggest Beer Hall There Has Ever Been.

As soon as Grendel realised what had happened he was terribly afraid. He knew that no troll would ever be welcome in the beautiful orchards and gardens that had been planted to obscure the view of the ugly brewery and the polluted lake. He looked around and decided that his best chance was to hide behind a hedge, but, as he was sneaking over towards a nearby bush, he heard a sharp voice call out,

‘Hey! You there! Yes, you! You disgusting troll! What are you doing in The Great King’s garden?’

Two large, confident men dressed in heavy armour came striding through the shrubbery towards him. They had large swords and shields that bore the insignia of King Lars’ guards.

‘I got lost,’ replied Grendel, who preferred to speak simply and honestly.

‘Then why don’t you?’ sneered the first of the guards, who had an undeserved reputation for witty repartee, ‘Go on, get lost, before we set you on fire.’

Grendel turned to go, planning to retrace his steps and find his way back home to the polluted lake, but as he walked away he heard the sound of iron-shod boots running behind him. He half turned to see the first guard bearing down on him with a huge sword raised above his head; ready to strike. Grendel’s instinct was to run, but he tripped and fell as he twisted away from his attacker. As he hit the ground, Grendel tried to roll into a ball to protect himself from the blows he imagined would surely follow. In doing this, his left leg caught the guard and knocked him off balance. The guard fell to the floor, losing his helmet in the process. Quickly Grendel struggled to his feet while the guard slashed at him with his sword. Grendel grabbed the guard’s sword hand and with a surprising strength that was fuelled by fear, he pulled as hard as he could manage. With a terrible tearing noise, the arm came off in his hand. As the guard let out an awful shriek Grendel ran fearfully away into the woods with the bleeding stump still tightly grasped in his hand.

Grendel ran blindly until he found himself in a far corner of The Beer Hall Gardens where he flung himself down into the undergrowth. He realised that he was shaking with terror. He also noticed that he was almost unbearably hungry. Before he could think, he had bitten into the guard’s arm, his strong teeth crunching easily through the flesh and bone. He was astonished to find that it was the tastiest food he had ever tried. How could something as bad as a Beer Hall Guard taste so good? As he munched on the arm, he was overwhelmed with horror. What had he done? Was he some kind of monster? Some inner voice denied this and pointed out that Grendel had not attacked the guard. The guard had tried to stab him in the back. He was not the one who had poisoned the lake. He had not destroyed another creature’s home.

Grendel came to a realisation.

He did not want to eat the guards, or fight with the men from the Beer Hall, but in order to survive he would need to do these things, or they, in time would overwhelm him. They would destroy his land and then catch and kill him and his mother. Grendel was determined that this should not happen; he resolved to resist. Later that evening, Grendel surprised another guard. He quickly killed him by using his superior strength, and then, silently, he took the body home to help feed his mother.

Chapter Two

In which The Great King Lars reviews his security arrangements and the Trolls discuss revolutionary philosophy.

King Lars was very angry. Some stinking, bestial troll was sneaking around his beautiful beer hall, The Biggest Beer Hall Ever Built, and it was killing his guards! It was insufferable. It was wrong. It was against the law. It was against His law, and something must be done about it. He banged his armoured fist on the armrest of his throne and called for the Captain of the Guard, a large, well-muscled man called Thwurp, who came as swiftly as his heavy-plate armour and slow wits allowed, to stand before the King’s throne.

‘Thwurp!’ bellowed King Lars, who was not without managerial skills, ‘What is going on? Have we no security?’

‘Your most noble Highness,’ replied Thwurp proudly, ‘We have extensive security. We have armed guards, armoured guards, armoured guards with armaments, armoured bunkers, armoured bunkers containing armaments and well-armed, armoured guards, with well-armed, armoured guard dogs. We have guard towers, watch towers, barbed wire, trip wire, traps, fences, devices, walls, ditches and moats. Our security is said to be flawless and second to none!’

‘Yes,’ interjected Bjorn the banker, ‘We have spent a vast proportion of the wealth of the conquered world to secure your most noble Highness the best and most modern defence that stolen money can buy.’

‘Then why is this cursed troll still killing my guards?’ screamed King Lars, drenching the court in Royal spittle. ‘I want his head on a stick!’

‘I shall send the biggest, bravest, best guards to hunt him down,’ said Thwurp, ‘and if that fails I shall kill him myself!’

‘I will raise taxation and further oppress the weak and weasely peasants on whom your wealth depends to generate a more present profit to buy more weapons from Steelstrom to ensure your regal repose,’ said Bjorn the banker.

‘And I will continue to develop weapons of terrible destructive power in order to make the world a better and safer place,’ said Steelstrom the steel smith.

In the light of this display of selfless and inspired leadership, it seemed self-evident, that the civilised world was in safe hands and there was no need at all to be alarmed; however, in the manner traditional to self-evident truths, this proved not to be the case at all. Grendel continued to raid The Biggest Beer Hall That Has Ever Been Built. To make matters worse, he achieved this feat regularly and with ease. Somehow the wily troll was able to infiltrate the Beer Hall gardens, outwit the elaborate defences, kill and take the guards while escaping undetected. The loyal subjects of King Lars were perplexed and distraught. The king himself was apoplectic.

Thwurp began to know fear, which was not an emotion his large frame was well designed to bear. At times he quivered like a large metallic jelly. He began to pace the halls muttering ‘double the guards, double the guards,’ and to continually check and double check that all the doors and windows were locked. He had his armour reinforced and he began to spend long parts of each night sharpening his new Steelstrom ‘Technology’ Anti-Troll Axe. Even when he dozed off into a fitful sleep he was troubled by dreams of a shadowy figure slipping inside his room. He often awoke with a start; imagining claws and fangs tearing at his well-protected throat.

Bjorn raised interest rates, foreclosed on mortgages, sold stock options and began a lucrative side-line in selling bogus life assurance policies to frightened Beer Hall guards. In the countryside he began to use cartels to further increase his profits from peasant labour, and in his factories he lowered wages and raised prices. The money from the misery he engendered was used to recruit more guards, strengthen the defences and invest more highly in the belligerent research of Steelstrom Weapons and Munitions incorporated.

Steelstrom himself was unworried by the apparent rise of the troll threat. He opened a new Anti-Troll weapons research centre, encouraged Thwurp to have innocent trolls (if such a thing was logically possible) rounded up, so that he could use them for weapons testing. He supported Thwurp at Royal Council meetings to ensure that the already gargantuan defence budget continued to grow. Personally, he was vehement in his expression of the opinion that all non-human species were inherently evil, against God, religion, tradition, the state and the King. He was often heard to say that widespread genocide against the trolls was not only necessary but desirable and morally right. He purchased himself a new and much larger estate located at an encouragingly safe distance away from The Biggest Beer Hall. There, he counted his profits and worried that if things continued the way they were he might well die of an overdose of wealth and contentment.

King Lars alternated between anger and fear and wondered who would deliver him from the ‘troll menace’. He was proud of the thought that if there had been a free press he would have suspended it, so that no-one would ever know how powerless he was to defend The Biggest Beer Hall, or defeat the troll. He longed for the golden days of the past and became unable to go outside for fear of what might lurk beyond the Croquet Lawn. He dreaded the approach of a crisis, and this fear was not disappointed when two weeks later the hall was infiltrated again, and a Very Important Victim was claimed.

Grendel had grown in strength and cunning since his initial accidental manslaughter. On the first night he was delighted and relieved that he had survived and then, later, he had felt a terrible guilt; he felt that he had ‘become the thing he hated.’ After a long, sleepless night, he confessed to his mother the source of the meat that he had ‘found’ and he told her of his feelings of shame and disgust.