The Beheading Game

By Ryan Bush

Every year, King Hearthsward hosted a grand Midsummer Feast at our royal court. There were games and challenges, boasts and feats of strength, and people traveled from many lands to partake in the celebrations. Even our enemies visited our table, emboldened by the oath of peace during festival-time. If you brought no trouble, none would find you. And as Captain of the Guard, my job was to ensure any trouble ended quickly.

Still, it came as a great surprise when a giant arrived last Midsummer. The Giant Lord Sarru had long been at war with King Hearthsward, so when the enormous warrior entered our royal hall, every hand instinctively went to a blade. Easily twice as tall as any man, Lord Sarru glared down at us, his thick hair nearly brushing the top of our great front door. I leaped in front of King Hearthsward, prepared to defend him with my life.

But to my surprise, the giant bellowed.

“I wish to propose a game!”

King Hearthsward glared at the giant. “You are bold, entering my court after slaying so many of my people. But I will hold my peace-bond during this festival if you hold yours. What game do you propose?”

“A simple one!” Lord Sarru laughed. “Strike me a blow, and in one year’s time, ride to my castle, and I shall return the same. Whoever fails their end of the bargain must grant a third of their lands to the other, and all the cattle and people upon it.”

The crowd murmured. Games and challenges like this were common at Midsummer, but seldom were the stakes so great.

King Hearthsward nodded thoughtfully. “Very well. My champion shall strike the blow.”

I tensed, knowing what would be asked of me. “But first, I have terms of my own. Whatever the outcome, I will have peace for my people. You must swear that henceforth, no more of our women or children shall come to harm. Your soldiers have slain too many of our innocents already.”

The giant laughed. “An easy boon to grant. I swear to you, not one hair on your children’s heads shall be touched, and I shall never again hurt one of your women.” Lord Sarru knelt on one knee. “Strike your blow, champion.”

The king nodded to me. My breath rasped hotly behind my helmet’s visor as I slowly approached the foul giant. Then, in one swift move, I drew my sword and cleaved his head from his shoulders.

The crowd gasped as the head tumbled dully to the ground. For a long moment, silence reigned in the hall.

But then came a horrid, gurgling laugh. I looked and realized with horror that the giant’s head itself was laughing, booming evilly from bloody lips.

Lord Sarru’s body slowly stood upright, grabbing his severed head off the ground and tucking it under his arm. He bared his teeth in a feral grin.

“One year’s time, Sir Knight. One year’s time.”

Then, still laughing, he turned and strode from the hall.

***

One year later, I rode alone through the dark forests of Lord Sarru. Ancient trees loomed above me, and thick layers of moldy leaves covered the road, muffling my horse’s steps. The road to the giant lord’s castle seemed seldom used, but I stayed alert, watching for tricks or detours to delay me.

Already on my journey, I had faced many traps meant to keep me from fulfilling my oath: A strange man beside the road, promising me vast riches if I would help him loot an ancient tomb. An old crone offering me a girdle that would protect me from all harm. An almost-human voice crying for help from a thicket. Under the eaves of the forest, I even came upon a house full of beautiful women with flirtatious eyes, but I simply laughed and continued on my way.

When I reached the castle, the massive main gate swung open of its own accord. It had been elegantly carved with motifs of giants and dragons, and I admired the artistry as I rode through and dismounted. The jangling of my spurs was the only sound as I strode through a set of doors into the main hall.

Lord Sarru sat on a throne at the far end, surrounded by dozens of lords, ladies, and knights of the giants’ court. He smiled broadly as I approached, the jagged scar marking a burning brand across his throat.

“So, the noble human has evaded all my trickeries and traps. Well done, Sir Knight! I never saw your face in the castle. Remove your helm, that I might know your countenance before you meet your end.”

I knelt in the center of the hall. Gently, I removed my helm, and the entire assembly gasped.

“I am ready to fulfill my oath and receive my blow, Lord Sarru,” I said, “but recall well, the oath you swore to King Hearthsward.”

Lord Sarru slowly rose to his feet. He held a massive sword loosely at his side, but he eyed me with curiosity more than anger.

“A… woman?” he said haltingly. “Where is the knight who struck the blow? Name yourself, stranger!”

“I am the knight who removed your head from your shoulders,” I said with a slight smile. “I am Lady Eadguth, sister of King Hearthsward. I am also the king’s Captain of the Guard and his most trusted champion.”

He glared at me for many long moments. But then, to my surprise, he let loose with a roaring laugh.

“Well met! Rise, Lady Eadguth. Come, feast with us. You have evaded my traps and set one of your own for me. Let it be known that today is the day that Lord Sarru was defeated by a lady of King Hearthsward’s court!”

“Those are kind words, sir.” I smiled up at him sweetly. “But say rather that you were defeated by your own tongue. For one should never swear an oath without considering where it might lead!”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ryan Bush has dabbled in a variety of trades and mastered none of them, so now he writes fantasy stories. His beautiful wife once said she enjoyed a short story he wrote, and he’s been chasing that high ever since. His works range from epic fantasy novels to humorous short stories, and he tries to blend his Christian faith with entertaining, uplifting tales.

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