January 1, 1082: County of Agder
The remainder of 1081 was a mixture of fortunes for Torstein's domain, as Dublin recovered at long last from the ravages of war four days before his eleventh birthday and the ledgers at last began showing a profit again.
However, by August, news of his announcements against God had spread throughout Europe, causing the boy Count to be viewed as a sceptic and arbitrary in his application of law. This made the tax collectors working under him much less inclined to follow the edicts of the court and hence income was reduced.
The bottom line was further injured when it was discovered in September that the farmers of Agder, in an act of passive aggression against the Count, had ill-prepared the soil, making for a bad crop and an even lower profit each month.
It was just before the New Year that the greatest blow occurred.
"Eleven goldoons have been found missing from the treasury, sire!" The Chief Accountant trembled at the knees as he reported this new hit to the pockets of the Three Counties.
"What?! I want every man, woman, and child in this castle searched! You will find my money!" Red-faced, Torstein stomped down from the throne to stare at the Chief Accountant with eyes of hate, "You are lucky that you are the only one who can do your job, or I would kill you."
"Yes, sire. Very good sire." The head financial man bowed and raced out of the room before the bloodthirsty young jackal could change his mind.
"This is bad! When I find out who stole my money, they will pay!"
Silent stood the court in the storm of Torstein's latest rage. They had never seen him this angry before, and so none moved even the slightest of an inch. It was as if the tiny tyrant were addressing an assembly of statues.
All save one, that is. In the corner of the room, Stewardess Eldrid Sparre smiled to herself.
Perhaps this would teach him a lesson about abusing his subjects, she thought.
June 9th 1082: County of Agder
On Count Torstein's twelfth birthday, the rebels in Mide once again struck the garrison but they were quickly wiped out by Trond's forces, eradicated by the 26th of May.
A day and month after the inssurrection began, a bishop arrived at the court of Agder, sent by the Pope to fulfill the spot of diocese priest that Trond was originally intended to take.
"Take advantage of this opportunity, my son! His Holiness is giving you a chance to begin to redeem yourself in the eyes of the Church!" Torstein's mother eyes glistened with tears as she pleaded for her son to accept the man and pay for his journey there.
Her son had other plans, however.
"No! I hate God and I won't allow a bishop of his in my court! Send him away and send him away now!"
And so the holy man was banished from the county and Torstein, now twelve years old, became even more reviled than ever by those of a religious nature. Some began to openly wonder if he would perhaps not be excommunicated by the time he reached the age of majority.
Troubling times for the Tri-Count and his demense, indeed...
The incredibly talented Stewardess
About the only way he'll be a saint is if Satan starts his own unholy saints' society...