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He whose word held wide sway over many a land named it Heorot.
Then a powerful demon, who dwelt in darkness, grew exceeding wrathful upon hearing the din of light-hearted revelry and the music of merry-making that issued forth from the mead-hall every day.
From his far-off homeland, Beowulf, a thane of King Hygelac, heard tell of Grendel’s depredations.
Beowulf, the leader of the war-troop, rendered him answer, unlocking his word-hoard:
a throng of thanes.
Grendel’s mother, a monster-wife, a she-devil, mourned over her misery.
If one such did, perchance, look upon Thryth, his Fate was sealed with death-bonds. The unfortunate wretch would be bound with hard-twisted fetters. Brief would be the interval after they did seize him. Soon, the edge of the sword would speak, and the blade would render judgment. It was a violent death. That is not a fit custom for a Lady to practice, though she be a peerless Queen. The Queen who is a Weaver of Peace should not deprive a dear subject of his life-days because of a fancied wrong.
It thereafter befell, in the clash of conflict, that Hygelac was slain. In later days, the war-Swedes, bold battle-heroes, sought out Heardred, son of Hygelac, amidst his valiant comrades upon the field of combat and assailed him with battle-blades and killed him. The shelter of Heardred’s shield availed him not. Into Beowulf’s hand then did come the rule of this broad realm.
Once again did he lave his Lord with water, till words began to issue forth from Beowulf’s breast-hoard.

