This hall on the edges of the kingdoms of Mercia and Wessex also resounds with the noise of feasting and the song of poets. But rather than the plights of knights and battles against dragons, the words shared around this burning hearth tell of a different lord – the lord of heaven. Instead of battles with enemies, stories of saints against demons entertain those within. Rather than the berserker Beowulf tearing Grendel’s arm from its socket, the audience listen in raptures to St Judith’s beheading of Holofernes. For this is a monastery, not a mead-hall.
