[Izulde]

July 18th 1080: County of Mide

In June of 1080, moneylenders in Mide distressed by the growing tensions caused by the unrest in the county fled to Dublin, a move that both damaged Torstein's already ravaged religious reputation and proved to be quite wise...

"To arms, People of Mide! We must rid ourselves of the tyranny of the godless boy, Torstein! Our freedom is worth everything! Fear not death, for in dying, God shall reward you with a place in the kingdom of Heaven! Today is the day that we fight for our people and our home. Today is the day that we shall have victory!"

Just over two hundred throats roared approval at their leader's stirring speech and in the next moment, they surged forth in a giant body to storm the walls of the small hill fort that held the royal garrison.

Behind the walls of that defensive structure, Marshall Trond Galtung stood watching the approaching partisans while he sipped his beer.

"Huh, so Kerry O'Donnell thinks God is on his side? Well, we'll just see about that. Liam, get me my sword and sound the alarm. We're going out to meet that bunch of rabble and we'll have them beaten before lunch."

Liam, a freckle-faced Irish lad of fourteen, nodded solemnly as he scampered off to do as his master bid.

As he ran to the bell in the centre of the fort to ring it, the boy's thoughts wandered outside. It was a shame that this was coming to bloodshed, but that was the way of the world today. Besides, the battle was inevitable. Kerry had been one of the original moneylenders who had migrated to Mide and he had refused to leave when the others did, insisting that Mide was his home and that he was going to be damned if he let some strapling influence his life.

"I'm sorry, Uncle", whispered Liam as he rang the bell, summoning the troops, "I know you wanted me to fight for you, but you're wrong this time. The Count's just a kid and I bet he's scared. I know I'd be scared too and maybe I'd do the same things he's done. I don't know. All I know is, it's wrong to fight against your master. God isn't with you now."

609 professional troops versus 218 amateur patriots.

As Trond raced out of the fort gates at the head of his force to meet the rushing rebels, one couldn't help but think that this time, God was a gambler who favoured the percentages.

And the percentages lay with the bishop-general.

August 2nd 1080: County of Mide

Lunch came almost a month late.

Bolstered by the addition of more freedom fighters, O'Donnell's numbers swelled to 245 men, allowing them to prolong the battle. Over the course of the two weeks that followed the initial charge, the two armies were all square on the field, with the Mideans even appearing to have the upper hand in numbers killed.

Then, on the night of August 2nd, Trond had a plan.

In his tent, he announced to Liam, "Kerry is doing well, too well, in fact. I tire of toying with him and I will end it tomorrow morning. He has no knights in his company, so I will take ninety of my best chevaliers and tomorrow morning, we will charge and scatter them!"

The preparations were made and at dawn, all was ready.

The royal horsemen stood in a long line of fifty that stretched all across the battlefield. Early sunlight shooting out of lustrous pink-blue clouds made their lances and armour glitter, dazzling those who dared to look at them. All stared grimly ahead and not a word was spoken.

Before them was their commander, Trond Galtung. Unlike his men, he did not wear heavy armour, nor had lance or sword at his side. The sun did not gleam off of him, but instead bathed him in a halo of light that was mesmerising to watch. In his full bishop's regalia, he held his mace aloft and looked coldly across the field at the remainder of Kerry O'Donnell's army.

With great ceremony and in absolute silence, Trond swung the mace down.

Fifty men charged forth. The terrible thunder of their horse's hooves preluded the lethal lightning of their lances striking home in the bodies of the Mideans.

The storm of God's judgement was unleashed upon Kerry O'Donnell's defiant rebels.

Six days later, the squall had ended and all who opposed it were dead.

Kerry O'Donnell's head stood watch over the meadow and Trond Galtung was celebrated as a hero.