January 17th, 1099: Duchy of Meath
"I'm afraid she's fallen ill, Your Grace. I don't quite know the cause of it, but I've given her a leeching and I'll be back in a few days to check on her and administer more treatment. You may want to see if you can get her to a warmer climate. More sun and fresh air may do her good."
"Thank you, Doctor."
Snofrid's cough rattled and echoed in the quiet void of the room after the court physician departed. Her nose flamed bright red, two circles of matching colour dotting her pasty cheeks as the fever of her sickness maliciously claimed her body as its domain.
"Torfinn, come here."
The Duke of Meath, who had been silently pondering Muslim territories to attack that the King of Norway might not be able to steal from him, looked up and walked over to the Spymaster's bedside.
"Yes, Snofrid?"
A fat, white hand came to rest on Torfinn's thinner one, pained eyes lifting from the blanket to the Duke's face. The woman's voice was intense as she spoke.
"Whatever you do, do not go off on another holy war to the south. My health is not worth the ruin of the treasury or the downfall of the of Agders. If I should die in this cold and miserable country of Ireland, then I will consider it my sacrifice to our family's cause."
Torfinn opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by the woman's other hand falling over his lips.
"No, do not argue with me in this. I have served several rulers of our House and I am content with what my life has been, if the end should be near. I have seen us grow from a simple Norwegian county to being heirs of the most powerful Duchy in Ireland. I would like to see you crowned King of Ireland before I die, but if God does not will it to be so, then so be it. I and your cousin Lodin, the only man I have ever loved, will watch you from heaven then."
To this, the Duke could say nothing and so he simply knelt down and embraced his faithful Spymaster. Life would not be easy for him when she was gone, for she was his most trusted and talented courtier.
Fortunately, Death, frequent enemy to the of Agders, stayed his skeletal hand in this matter and Snofrid continued to live with her sickness until there came another death that had significant consequences for the of Agder family.
October 27th, 1099: County of Isle of Man
"Our opportunity is now, my son! The Pope has died and the new Pope has declared me to be the most holy man in all of Europe!"
Murchaid Ui Mordha wetted his dry, cracked lips with his tongue, the landless Duke of Leinster's eyes bright with the lust of revenge's opportunity.
Across the table from him, Donnchad, his son and heir, was much more composed as he gazed upon the twisted face of his father.
"Father, though you now have the ear of the Vatican, to strike against Torfinn of Agder or any of those who are within his sphere of protection would be foolish. He would instantly usurp your title and declare war on us. We can not stand against the might of the entire Kingdom of Norway. Let us wait until Torfinn makes himself King of Ireland. It will only be a matter of time before he does so, for he is wise far beyond any other of Agder ruler. Then we will strike."
"Bah! I suppose you are right. Still, it does not make me happy that we must wait. We are letting a golden opportunity to excommunicate our mortal enemies slip by, my son."
Donnchad only smiled and patted his sire on the shoulder.
"Good things come to those who wait", counseled father to son.
And you will die soon enough, old man thought the Count of the Isle of Man
and then *I* will be the Duke of Leinster and deal with that Norwegian fool on my own terms.
He can't last too long... or so I hope
Rome returns to the Italians. Olderic I captured Capua during his reign and forced the Count of Capua to surrender his domain to the Papal States. Can the new pontiff continue the expansion set by his predecessor?