“Beowulf will do, Sir Knight. You are too polite and too humble. Surely you have conquests of your own?”

Gawain was about to answer that he, too, has his share of fame, when Beowulf continued speaking.

“I am old and I move less like I used to but I am not afraid of anything. My strength is unparalleled and the strongest of blades break in my hands. This sword I carry is magical and perhaps the strongest of all swords, but I fear that when I will again face the dragon it will crumble before me. Naegling is an ancient sword, and it has served me well.  I am old, but I will continue to fight for my people and continue to seek fame for them. Never let it be said that their king disappointed them.”

Beowulf poured the last of his beer in his mouth and filled  it again even before Gawain finished his.

Undaunted, the knight also emptied his mug and asked for more.

“Well,” says he, “The knights are also held in high esteem in Camelot and everywhere in the land. Our King Arthur was the bravest and he has Excalibur, also a magical sword. He defeated many an army and brought Camelot to glory.”

“What about you?”

Gawain shook his head.  “As a true knight, I cannot glorify my conquest. The Code and the Measure forbids us to be proud of our achievements.”

“Bah!” Beowulf snorted, partly from what Gawain said, but mostly because he felt tipsy already. Can’t let the knight see that alcohol affects me, he thought.

“Yes, it’s true,” Gawain insisted. “ We are taught that we must have faith, hope, charity, courage and we should gain wisdom in our day-to-day lives, as well as a sense of justice and temperance.”

Gawain looked down in his foaming mug and saw three of them. He raised one to his lips but all three rose to meet him. Flabbergasted, he set it down again. Could just a few mugs muddle his senses already?

“You are verrry young, Sirr Knight. Do you really think that when you have all this, you’re going to win alwayss? Me?? I have nothing but my strength and look where it got me. Onccee I ripped off the armmm of aademon nnnamed Grendelll with my bare hands andkilleddd his mammma the day after.  I alssso…” Slumping forward, Beowulf finished the rest of his sentence in a drunken sleep.

Meanwhile, Sir Gawain stood up, head spinning and stomach rising. He was getting ready to leave and berating himself for forgetting the last value taught them just months ago when suddenly the ground rose up to meet him. The armor bit into his flesh but he didn’t notice. He closed his eyes and decided that the floor was the best place in the world at the moment.

© Ma. Aleah Taboclaon
1997