Dante's Heart
Childe Daniel
There are no easy journeys. Along the way, Daniel stopped in a wooden
hall whose high beams were carved or burnt with scenes of battles. The
ghosts of fallen warriors whispered by night in the rafters. By this time
Daniel was already finding traveling companions: a dwarf who showed him
the way to the hall, a nymph with long hair that changed color. She was
beautiful but she spent much of the night vomiting; she was traveling to
seek the man or woman who had poisoned her creek.
During the night, Daniel woke to find something strong and silent had
leapt out of a hole in his chest, and had done violence to the dwarf while
he slept. No time to reach for his bow. Daniel leapt up and wrestled the
tall man, and the man's scream and a blow of his arm against wood broke
the hall.
Image, Beowulf Wrestles with Grendel, copyright Lynd Ward (1939)
The taste of violence is heady until the blood stops flowing. Violence
against others. Violence against God. Violence against self.
All night they wrestled, with the breathing and the war-chant, spell-chant
of his enemy loud in his ears. When sun poured through the ruins of old
timbers, Daniel was alone. Except for the dwarf, breathing raggedly on
the floor with blood on his brow, and the nymph, who, having vomited into
collapse, then slept the night through, silent as a pool.
Back Next
There are no easy journeys. Along the way, Daniel stopped in a wooden
hall whose high beams were carved or burnt with scenes of battles. The
ghosts of fallen warriors whispered by night in the rafters. By this time
Daniel was already finding traveling companions: a dwarf who showed him
the way to the hall, a nymph with long hair that changed color. She was
beautiful but she spent much of the night vomiting; she was traveling to
seek the man or woman who had poisoned her creek.
During the night, Daniel woke to find something strong and silent had
leapt out of a hole in his chest, and had done violence to the dwarf while
he slept. No time to reach for his bow. Daniel leapt up and wrestled the
tall man, and the man's scream and a blow of his arm against wood broke
the hall.
Image, Beowulf Wrestles with Grendel, copyright Lynd Ward (1939)
The taste of violence is heady until the blood stops flowing. Violence
against others. Violence against God. Violence against self.
All night they wrestled, with the breathing and the war-chant, spell-chant
of his enemy loud in his ears. When sun poured through the ruins of old
timbers, Daniel was alone. Except for the dwarf, breathing raggedly on
the floor with blood on his brow, and the nymph, who, having vomited into
collapse, then slept the night through, silent as a pool.
Back Next
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