September 15 1086: County of Agder
Torstein's veins hummed in ecstacy. At long last, it was *his* turn. No more would he be forced to watch that fat, gluttonous cleric lead his armies against the Tri-County's enemies. Now, it would be *him* leading the charge.
Outside the castle walls were ringed 115 rebels. They had taken courage from Trond's earlier prolonged assault on the Midean rebels, who had revolted yet again earlier in the year. Too, these faithful, for many of them were once again of the clergy, sought to test the mettle of the newly adult Torstein.
It was a test that Torstein passed with flying green and gold colours. He lost just 70 men compared to all 115 of the rebels losing their lives by the third of October.
For his first campaign, the Count considered it an excellent victory.
As he sat on his horse overlooking the valley in which the bodies of the rebels lay, his thoughts turned the way of marriage, much as his father's had on that midwinter night just hours after William was crowned King of England.
His mother had wanted to him to marry a good Christian girl of unreproachable scruples. Snofrid, his cousin, simply wanted a girl of good talents to join the court. Eldrid the stewardess expressed no opinion and Marshal Trond had been too busy eating to contribute to the discussion.
But he knew. Torstein knew exactly who he wanted to marry and he swore that he would have her, no matter how many times he must ask for her hand...
The newly and allegedly mature Torstein