It happened that a day before Hrothgar and his companions came to Heorot, there came a young man named Hutha to beg the aid of the King of the Danes, his liege. For it seems that a dread lich wreaked havoc upon the Isle of Samso, where his father, Hwita, was thegn. The folk of Samso had no answer to this, for there was no Priest of Woden amongst them, nor runemarked blades and if any were runewise enough to stand against the lich, they had not come forward. So it was, when Hrothgar came and flyted before the King that he had received the gift of Helruning from the One-Eyed God himself, the King had exchanged a glance with his thyl, Scrocmael. For here was an opportunity both to test the word and metal of the Geat and to rid some part of his folk of a terrible scourge. So King Hrothulf sent for Hrothgar and told him how it was and bade him take ship, if he were willing, with young Hutha to Samso to see what might be done. Hrothgar said that, aye, he was more than willing and so he summoned his companions – Herewulf, Tohrwulf and Herefrith and took ship with Hutha to Samso.
As they crossed the brim, young Hutha recounted to the Geats the tale of the Sons of Arngrim. For it was said that many lives of men past, Samso had been the place of a mighty battle between the hero, Orvar-Wod, his friend Halvar and the twelve baresark Sons of Arngrim. All were slain but for Orvar-Wod, who returned whence he came with the body of his friend but buried the Sons of Arngrim in twelve barrows that to this day lie in the marshy north of the island. It was said that these berserkers hold to the sleep of death but lightly – though it had been long since they had troubled the living. However, it seemed more than likely that the barrows were at the root of the current haunting.
The Geats guested that night at Hwita’s hall where the talk was mostly of the lich and its activity. It seemed that the lich had gone beyond scaring flocks and neatherds and had reived a steading where lived the Snellings, a few nights before, killing many. Herewulf asked whether there had been any that had enmity to that particular steading and was told that beyond some disputes over grazing rights with the neighbouring Selredings, there was nought to report on that front. Beornoth the reeve joked that the Selredings were in dispute with half the island, for they were greedy and grasping. They were rich as they had the only mill upon Samso and old Selred was blessed with three strong sons – four if you counted the weakling youngest son – a strange unseely cove. He had a daughter too, laughed Hutha, for whom they had persistently sought his hand in marriage. He left the company in no doubt that this was something that he would never willingly countenance.
The following morning were guided by Hutha to Snellingstead. There they spoke to a slave named Croc who had witnessed events while hidden in the hayloft. He described a lich with glowing eyes that slew all in the hall. He noted that it then poked with its sword in a meal sack, before disappearing into the ground whence it had come. One other detail that Croc offered was that the lich appeared to be missing its left hand.
From Snellingstead they were guided to the barrow land. There it was plain to see that one of the barrows had been recently disturbed. On their way back through the marshes they noted a hut, that Hutha explained was that of Scurfa, a marsh hunter and tenant of the nearby Selreding mill. They knocked on the door of the hut but found no-one there, though they noted its poor state with provisions scattered over the floor, including a quantity of flour in which there was a small footprint. The marsh-wise Herefrith thought he saw someone watching them from a reedbed nearby. When they investigated they found no-one, but there seemed to be a campfire there and signs of recent activity, including some much larger prints. Hutha said Scurfa was a large man. They returned to Hwitastead where they planned to guest once more.
That night, just after sundown, the one-handed lich came to Hwitastead. It announced its presence by slaying Hwita with a sword thrust through his back as he sat at board. A wave of terror engulfed the small hall and many fled or were unmanned by it but Herewulf thrust forward, runemarked saex in hand. The lich seemed to pay him little mind, beyond a flick of its sword that sent him reeling, but harked to Hrothgar who shouted a challenge. It regarded the Geatish brimwisa with its glowing eyes for a heartbeat or two as its jaw worked and then disappeared once more into the ground. Once it had gone and the hall calmed as well as it could with its lord lying dead upon his own dining board, Hrothgar revealed that the lich had spoken to him and bade him come to his barrow that very night for further discourse.
Hutha, now lord of the house, felt it his duty to stay but sends young Daeglaf, the reeve’s son, to help guide the Geats in their dark journey to the barrowland. It is a difficult journey at night and the Geats are scarcely dry-shod by the time they arrive at the barrowland. Tohrwulf in particular contrives to fall into a deep pool from which his comrades have to extricate him. They are indebted to Daeglaf and the marsh-wise Herefrith that it is still night when stand before the disturbed barrow. Hrothgar speaks words of summoning and the lich rises from its broken grave and to speaks silently once more to the Geatish Helruner.
He is Reifnir son of Arngrim and has been woken from his long sleep by thieves. He demands that his hand be restored to him and the despoiler’s head withall. If this is not done, and soon, then he will wake his brothers and their revenge will be wrought upon all living folk upon the island. His words spoken, he sinks once more into the earth.
When the Geats return Hwitastead the sun is in the sky and Hutha, too, has news. It seems that Eorpwald, youngest son of Selred the Miller, had come to the hall yesterday and delivered a sack of meal. This was thought slightly odd – for the Selredings were seldom on time with their scots and this was a little early – but welcome as they had been running short. Remembering that at Snellingstead and at Scurfa’s hut there had been flour spilt, Hutha had thought to look in the meal poke and there found a rune-stick. None could read it but this seemed sufficient proof that the Selredings were involved in this matter.
He summons his two hearthguards, Ceored and Nothgyth and together with the four Geats takes ship in a faering harboured in nearby Balen. They row northwards in the teeth of a contrary wind until the reach the firth where Selredingstead lies. Using the lie of the land for cover, they approach the hilltop hall just as dusk is falling. With most of the Geats in mail and Hutha wearing his father’s byrnie, they do not make a silent approach and as they near the stake and wicker fence that encloses the hall a challenge rings out and four armed men and a bowman issue forth from the door to form a shield burgh on the porch. With a shout Hutha breaks free of the restraining hands of his hearthguards and vaults the fence. Hrothgar does likewise but catches his foot on the fence and measures his length in the yard. Tohrwulf, Herefrith and the hearthguards climb the fence more cautiously. Only lightly armed Herewulf keeps up with the vengeance-crazed Hutha. So the two are ahead of their comrades as they crash into the Selreding shieldwall, braving arrows from the bowman. Hutha matches shield and spear with them. Herewulf distains a battle board and throws himself upon them with axe and sword. In truth they make little impact upon the well organised shieldwall, but they pin the Selredings in place for several heartbeats as their comrades catch up.
Seeing the onrush of five more warriors the Selredings execute a well-practised move to retreat inside the hall. However, Herewulf succeeds in preventing them from closing the door – though he takes wounds doing so – long enough for Hrothgar and the others to come crashing into the hall. There they are confronted by Eorpwald – the bowman – holding aloft what appears to be the hand of long dead corse and shrieking Galdor. A one-handed lich appears at his side. Eorpwald points at the intruders and commands the lich to attack, but the lich turns its baleful gaze upon the boy instead and with the merest flick of his sword-hand lops Eorpwald’s hand from his wrist. As the boy stares aghast at his stump. The lich strikes once more and the boy’s head is struck from his body. The lich thrusts his sword in the ground, bends and picks up the withered hand that has fallen from the boy’s lifeless grasp and simply puts it back on his wrist. He retrieves his sword and picks up the boy’s head in his newly attached left hand and sinks once more into the earth. With that the fight goes out of the remaining Selredings and they throw down their spears and beg for mercy. Already they are all denying that they new aught of their youngest brother’s misdeeds.
The four male surviving Selredings and their daughter, Godgifu, are secured. To Selred’s loud protests a search is made of the mill and anything of value taken – mostly a large chest of silver. Hutha silences Selred’s protests by saying that wergelds need to be paid to many people for the ills that Selred’s folk have wrought and if left his slaves might run away with the silver (there are three millhands who are left to await new masters).
In the morning the Selredings are brought back to Hvitastead, in their own faering, and locked in an emptyu storehouse. Messengers are sent out summoning the district for a folk moot which takes place three days later where Hutha recounts what has occurred.
The Geats are summoned to swear oaths as to the truth of the matter. Selred and his folk swear they knew nothing of the youngest son’s dealings. However, a surprise witness appears in the form of a filthy Scurfa who it seems has been hiding out in the marsh. He tells that he was ordered by Selred to fetch the hand from the barrow, which he did under duress, owing Selred much rent. He was surprised to be given a sack of meal as reward for his efforts by Eorpwald – Selred was notoriously ungenerous in his dealings. That night the lich came to his hut when, purely by chance, he was outside. He fled in terror into the marsh. Too afeared to return to his dwelling place he camped in the marsh. The following day he saw Eorpwald return and enter his hut. When he came out he was covered in flour and appeared to be carrying away the empty sack. Scurfa does not appear to be a very intelligent or quick-witted fellow.
Scurfa’s testimony makes it impossible for Selred to continue to deny knowledge. When Hutha proposes that he should die, there is a cheer and agreement all round. Hutha proposes exile for the rest of the family, which is also agreed – though there are those who argue for them to share Selred’s fate. Scurfa is eventually spared by common consent as no more than a useful fool in this venture. The rest of the moot is spent agreeing compensation for those injuerd by the Selredings. Hutha says he will take the mill and install a reeve to manage the slaves. He promises fairer prices for milling the island’s corn. The folk agree that Hutha is a proper person to succeed his father as thegn.
On the morrow, in accordance with local custom, Selred is taken to the bog, a cord is passed around his neck and he is strangled, his weighted body thrown into a deep pool. His family are dispatched in their faering, with three days supply of food. The men are allowed their weapons, Godgifu her distaff.
A few days later, when all is sorted, Hutha takes you back once more to Sealand, where he seeks audience with the King. He recounts the tale and is generous in his praise of your actions. He begs the King that he be confirmed as Thegn and is supported by Hrothgar in this. The King takes his oath and gives Hutha a heavy armring and a sword. He also thanks Hrothgar for his service and agrees that he has upheld his boasts. He gives him a fur cloak with gold and enamel clasps, and three 5 mark armrings to distribute to his followers.
Hutha departs on the morrow, but before he departs thanks Hrothgar and swears eternal friendship. He gives Hrothgar two pounds of silver from the chest as thanks. It comes in the box in which Eorpwald kept the lich’s hand. The box is heavy, being lined with lead, and inscribed with runes.