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- Jun 28, 2007
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This is the second piece of writing I have done on this. It is short, but I now know where I am going with it. It comes directly after Hrothgar drifts off to sleep in Harold's hall. Any comments would be appreciated.
‘Hrothgar, Hrothgar!’ calls the voice of my Father. I look back over my shoulder and see him running towards me. He half-staggers on the broken ground of the hill I am standing on. The wind is loud in my ears and I can feel its biting chill on my face. I close my eyes and open my arms wide. There is a feeling of freedom standing on this hill. A freedom that will end when my Father reaches me. My eyes open and he is standing before me. He is shaking his head and I can see he is trying to hide the anger he feels for me. He raises his right arm, the one that is missing a hand.
‘Why Hrothgar?’ The question comes out in an anguished shout. ‘Do you want to end up like me. A Nithing, worthless in the eyes of all!’ I know he wants to hit me, to knock some sense, as my Mother would say, into me. But he is a broken man with no pride left in him. That is how it seems to my youthful perspective. More voices are raised on the wind. The hatred is clear in their guttural shouts. My Father looks back down the hill, his lined and worn face, going even paler than it’s usual sickly pallor.
‘You must go. Run as far away as you can. Go south to London. Seek the house of Aelfwig. He is a wine merchant. Last I heard, my brother served as a guard in his household. Here, it is all I have. Now go!’
A small bag is thrust into my hand and I feel the round, broken edges of coins. Not many, but a fortune to a family as low as mine. I can now see figures appearing on the hill below us. Anger rises in me and I kneel, reaching for the axe at my feet.
‘Father…’ I attempt to speak, but my Father pushes me back.
‘Run, Hrothgar. There is a time to fight and this is not that time. They will tire of the chase after a day,’ he says, continuing to push me along the hilltop. I should say something, but the words will not come. With a nod of my head to him, I turn and begin to run, but not before I hear his final words to me.
‘Remember Hrothgar, you are a killer now. Your path in this life is now chosen.’
‘Hrothgar, Hrothgar!’ calls the voice of my Father. I look back over my shoulder and see him running towards me. He half-staggers on the broken ground of the hill I am standing on. The wind is loud in my ears and I can feel its biting chill on my face. I close my eyes and open my arms wide. There is a feeling of freedom standing on this hill. A freedom that will end when my Father reaches me. My eyes open and he is standing before me. He is shaking his head and I can see he is trying to hide the anger he feels for me. He raises his right arm, the one that is missing a hand.
‘Why Hrothgar?’ The question comes out in an anguished shout. ‘Do you want to end up like me. A Nithing, worthless in the eyes of all!’ I know he wants to hit me, to knock some sense, as my Mother would say, into me. But he is a broken man with no pride left in him. That is how it seems to my youthful perspective. More voices are raised on the wind. The hatred is clear in their guttural shouts. My Father looks back down the hill, his lined and worn face, going even paler than it’s usual sickly pallor.
‘You must go. Run as far away as you can. Go south to London. Seek the house of Aelfwig. He is a wine merchant. Last I heard, my brother served as a guard in his household. Here, it is all I have. Now go!’
A small bag is thrust into my hand and I feel the round, broken edges of coins. Not many, but a fortune to a family as low as mine. I can now see figures appearing on the hill below us. Anger rises in me and I kneel, reaching for the axe at my feet.
‘Father…’ I attempt to speak, but my Father pushes me back.
‘Run, Hrothgar. There is a time to fight and this is not that time. They will tire of the chase after a day,’ he says, continuing to push me along the hilltop. I should say something, but the words will not come. With a nod of my head to him, I turn and begin to run, but not before I hear his final words to me.
‘Remember Hrothgar, you are a killer now. Your path in this life is now chosen.’
