[Izulde]

August 16th 1067

"This changes our plans, does it not?"

Spy Master Snofrid clucked her tongue thoughtfully at her cousin's question before slowly nodding her head, "Yes, it does. I had thought that upon the Bishop's death, Bergenhus would be open, but it appears that the new German bishop installed shows no signs of disloyalty to King Olaf. We still have the claims on Bergenhus and Telemark, however, so we shall keep them in hand until opportunity presents. itself.

The Count of Agder growled and banged his fist on the map of Europe, "What can we do then? Cundo is with child, but it will be many years before we can arrange something for the future. I wish to be Duke now!"

"Patience, cousin. Things take time to develop. You wish to be a Duke now? Perhaps there are other avenues. How large is your army?"

Lodin spat on the dusty floor, irritation flexing the bones of his face. "311 men. Not enough to fight the pagans in the East. Not even enough to seize Bergenhus or Telemark, since that child-king Olaf will come to their aid. I've the feeling he's been eyeing this county for his own power."

A sigh came from Snofrid's lips as she patted her cousin on the arm. "As I said cousin, you must have patience. For now, there are no openings. But wait, watch, and listen, and an opportunity may present itself."

"I hope you are right, cousin. I grow tired of being able to do nothing."

March 22nd 1068

In late August, farmers in the County of Agder discovered how to alternate their fields to have better crop yields. This came to be called the Two-Fields System and would prove to be the only noteworthy event for the rest of 1067.

On March 22, 1068, there was new cause for celebration and the monotony of daily life was once more broken up by a festival throughout the county. Sigrid, a daughter, had been borne to Count Lodin and his wife Cundo. The courtyard was littered with revelers and amateur musicians, all of whom were sworn to be professional by the drunk listeners. Everyone was happy.

Everyone except the Count, that is.

Lodin scowled as he slouched against a wall in the little room he and Snofrid had met in many times in recent months.

"A bloody daughter! I need a son! I need action! What good is it to have ambition if I can't act on it?"

In times past, Snofrid politely remonstrated with him and urged patience. Tonight, however, she smiled and kissed her irate cousin's forehead.

"My dear cousin, I have good news. My spies report to me an independant county in the heart of Ireland by the name of Mide. Count Murchad O'Neill has only another county, Ulaid, as his ally. While his army presently is larger than yours, I believe the quality of your leadership and our troops shall be sufficient to win the day, particularly if King Olaf lends assistance that does not involve his own person. It will hurt the treasury, but the gains will be more than worthwhile."

The Spy Master reached into her bodice and removed a paper. When unrolled, the parchment revealed itself to be testimony from King Erik of Sweden that his researchers had discovered that Lodin was, in fact, the great-great grandson of a Count of Mide and so was the true and rightful heir.

"I persuaded Thora to look into this as a favour to you for allowing her to be married into the throne of Sweden. It took considerable effort, but she agreed, and King Erik has issued this proclamation. Therefore, dear cousin, you now have a third claim and are free to go to war against this Irish count without any trouble at all."

Lodin smiled grimly and stepped forward to press himself aggressively against her. "Have I mentioned, dearest Snofrid, that I love you?"

A simple shift sufficed to slip her out of her cousin's grasp. With a short laugh, Snofrid countered, "Save your new lust for the war, cousin.. and go bed your wife some more, so that you may have a son."

The Count of Agder laughed darkly and nodded, striding out of the room with new purpose and hope. When he'd woken up that morning, it seemed yet another dreary day in an endless march of them.

Now the march of depression had changed to the drumbeat of war.