It is the last week of Winterfell and Thegn Osgar Lytelman sets out afoot to investigate a strange sending from the high ground south of Gefnhame. His companions are Wistan Wulfinga and Hrothgar. They return but a day later with tales so outlandish that most take them to be but flytings for the Blot feasts, when men are given to the telling of outrageous tales of gods and men.
According to the Geatish heroes they travelled south for but a half day and found a grassy mound in a hidden valley. (“Ah, Grim’s Howe”, say the greybeards of Osgar’s hall). There they found a freshly burnt out fire. On the cliffs beyond there was what appeared a recent landslide that revealed a patch of bare rock, like a scar, with the seeming of a door carved upon it. Though they searched the area around they could find no more of note so being both heroes and curious men they settled themselves down for the night to see what adventures might befall.
Early in the night they hear the howling of wolves all around them – unusual so early in the winter with as yet no snowfall. No wolf was seen so the Geats bedded with one man always awake and on watch.
It was the midst of the night when the lichs came, dragging their rotting corpses from their tombs below and bringing their rusting spears to bear upon the resting Geats. They trade blow for blow with the Hel-spawn. Lytelman wielding his giant-wrought axe and Wistan his rune-marked spear take their toll upon the walking dead while Hrothgar does his utmost to wrestle his foe with bare hands when he finds his weapons do not bite. At length Lytelman gives the lich facing him its second death-wound and thinks of victory – but more sprout from the ground before him and thoughts of triumph fade. Indeed, it looks to go ill with the Geats when there is a mighty roar of “Enough!” from behind them and the lichs sink once more into the ground.
On looking around they see a huge figure – perhaps twice the height of a man (thrice that of Lytelman!) – leaning upon a spear, his single eye glinting in the fire-light. He gives his name as Grim and says he has a task for them. They do not think to question, or wonder, but follow him as he strides towards the carven door in the cliff face that they had discovered during the day. Grim strikes upon it with his spear and there is a shimmering and a waft of warm, flower-scented air as he strides through the gate with the Geats in tow.
They find themselves in dazzling sunshine in a wooded glade, with towering trees and strange giant grass on what seems a warm day in summer. They stand there awhile gawping and sweating in their winter furs while Grim allows them a short respite to heal their wounds and rest a little after their fight with the lichs. Below them in a broad valley they see a huge steading, made all in stone with a vast hall surrounded by towering walls. Gazing in wonder they realise they have been transported to the lands of the Eotan.
Deeming them rested enough Grim leads them impatiently down to the burgh below. A brusque converse between Grim and gate-wards even larger than himself, see them led into the hall and into the presence of its mighty Ettin-Lord, Skulmar, and his wife Iduma. Sitting on a stool nearby is a man clearly more of the scale of Grim than the huge Eotan-lord. He wears a deep scowl upon his face and little wonder for his lips have been sewn shut. This it appears is Grim’s brother Lothur and it seems that they have been brought to Eotunhame to perform some task to secure his release. This is all that they can glean from a conversation that is clearly not the concern of little folk. At length they are led away by Iduma, who is quite gracious to them and takes them to the kitchen. There they are put on a high settle and fed mead and honey cakes and would have been quite comfortable but for the attention of the kitchen mouser – a cat the size of an aurochs – that came to investigate them. It looked intent on playing with them – as it would mice – until shooed away by the cook.
At length there arrived another giant wearing a long hooded cloak, thrown back in the heat of the kitchen, with a large scrip slung from his shoulder and carrying a rune-carved staff the size of a small tree. He introduces himself as Beowaerd and instructs them to follow him. Beowaerd proves a friendly and engaging fellow who explains that, as his name suggests, he is a bee-keeper who oversees the production of the finest honey for use in Queen Iduma’s famous potions. Their mission is to help him deal with a problem with one of the bee-skeps which has been invaded by Hyrneta – some kind of giant wasp – that prey upon his bees, in that skep and others, and disrupt the making of honey.
When they arrive at Beowaerd’s orchard and they see many huge skeps, each the size of a great hall, suspended from the branches of towering fruit trees and dripping honey into vats below. A small swarm of bees the size of mastiffs fly down to greet Beowaerd and buzz around the Geats. By Beowaerd’s arts the Geats see the bees through some kind of glamour that reveal them less as huge insects and gives them more human features – friendly, round female faces with golden hair and wings – as well as allowing them understanding of their speech. As they set themselves around the Geats there is a cry of alarm from the bees as a Hyrnetu hunter appears above them. Man-size it is with clacking mandibles and a long wicked-looking sting. Quick as thought Beowaerd lashes out with his staff, catching the Hyrnetu amidships and striking it to the ground to die under his boot, but the Geats have now seen their enemy.
Borne aloft by their bee-allies, the Geats make their way through honey-dripping passages to the chamber of the Queen Bee. She lies upon a couch and seems to their englamoured eyes a beautiful, regal woman. She makes them welcome and serves them with bee-bread and nectar – wondrous to for the Geats to taste. She tells them that her realm is threatened by the Hyrneta who have carved out a portion of her hive in which their Queen has hatched out a clutch of deadly Hyrnetu hunters who prey upon her folk – and those of other bee-halls – as they go about their business. They are huge and terrible and can sting and sting again while her own people must sacrifice their lives to strike back at them. The hunters carry back their corses to feed their Queen who spawns yet more of these terrors. She fears that they will take over her hive entire and then use it as a base to conquer all the other hives in the orchard.
As she explains all this to the Geats there is a sudden commotion as the head and snapping mandibles of first one and then another Hyrnetu burst into the Queen’s throne room. Bravely her bee-guards throw themselves upon the intruders, sacrificing themselves for their queen. The first reaction of the Geats is to form a shieldwall around her but she urges them onto the attack to save those of her folk still alive. The sharp spears of the Geats are more than a match for the Hyrneta, unable to deploy their stinging tails, still stuck in the passages behind them. They slay them and haul their bodies free just in time to see a third Hyrnetu fleeing back down the passage. “Follow them, Follow them!” cries the Queen Bee, “For they have found my nest. Nothing now will serve but the death of my rival before she sends her killers for me!”
The brave Geats hesitate not for a minute but pursue the fleeing Hyrneta through the honey–drenched passages. The much larger than bee-sized Hyrneta have formed much larger paths through the skep, breaking and smashing combs as they go – making it easier for the Geats to follow. At length at they find their quarry at bay with more of its companions behind it. Osgar in the lead with his giant-forged axe with Hrothgar’s spear in the second rank face them. Meanwhile Wistan finds himself in a desperate struggle with yet more Hyrneta coming from behind them.
As the fight progresses it is clear that it it is difficult for the Hryneta to deploy their deadly stings in this confined space and the better weaponry and armour of the Geats begins to tell on their opponents. At last the Lytelman-Osgar and Hrothgar break through to the chamber beyond where the last few Hyrneta form a guard around their Queen. For a few moments they are daunted and confused by the Queen’s keening but they are stalwart and quickly shake off their malaise, surging forward to slay the last guards so that Osgar may at length bury his axe in the queen’s thorax, while Wistan slays the last of the Hyrneta in their rear.
They return to the Queen Bee’s chamber where they are greeted as heroes, given gifts of honey and transported down below to the waiting Beowaerd who congratulates them on their success and leads them back down the hill to the Burgh where they are permitted to wash and prepare themselves for an audience with Skulmar and Iduma. Skulmar gruffly thanks them for their efforts and grudgingly admits that Lothur’s ransom has been paid. Lady Iduma is more gracious and gives them each a bottle of her own mead. After which Grim leads them, and his brother – lips still sealed – to the gate and back to Gefndene at Winterfell. Before their parting he promises gifts but no gold or silver is forthcoming. It is only after he is gone that the Geats fall to wondering about the real identity of the one-eyed stranger.
The three Geats rest for the remainder of the night and return to Gefnhame with the dawn. They have little to show for themselves but a couple of flasks each and their wild tale. However, over the next day or so there are those who look at Thegn Osgar and start to wonder why it was they ever called him Lytelman.