Wulfhere “The Saxon” Haraldsson Crovan
King of All Norway of Sweden and of Denmark
Ruminations on the early years, 1334-1336
Now, then, my first act as King will be to secure my line –such as it is- on the throne. I’ve given my whiney son enough lands to ensure he will be elected once I pass and, bonus, I have made sure those lands are as far away from me as possible. Maybe living in England for a while will help man Thurcytel up.
I should never have agreed to that name. It’s no wonder.
Olaf of Jamtland has been permitted to return to the fold, after a suitable period of groveling. Unlike certain diseased monarchs, Wulfhere will not tolerate nonsense from his vassals.
The Papal Nuncio popped in this afternoon. He insinuated that things go much better in the world for Crovan Monarchs who show the church proper respect.
I think he wanted a cathedral or Naumadal, but screw that. I went and listened to one of his endless sermons and I can’t see donating anything that would keep that guy in Norway any longer than necessary.
Svein stopped in yesterday. He wanted a private meeting, very hush-hush. Apparently, he was planning to overthrow a kingdom and needed some financial backing.
While he was busy laying out his scheme to poison his ruling half-brother, murder the man’s children and marry his widow, something clicked in my head.
I bludgeoned him with Royal Scepter until he collapsed, lifeless, at my feet.
“You stupid son of a bitch,” I growled, “I am
your ruling half brother!”
I stalked down the hall, wiping bits of Svein off the Royal Scepter, my day thoroughly ruined, when who should I see? Yet another of my pansy-children Leofwine.
He was doing just what he is named for: whining.
“Daaaaadddddeeeee…I don’t waaaaannnnnnaaaa go to bed…I’m scccaaarreeed. There’s a mooonnnnnnnnsstttteerrrrr in my closet.”
I decided to fix this in one shot, so I shoved him in the closet and blocked the door so he couldn’t get out.
“Keep whining and the monster will find you real quick, wimpy.”
I’ll let him out tomorrow.
Well well, Skule. Great name for a usurper. You can kiss Trondelag goodbye.
I have promoted Skule’s ex-vassal Hakon to the Dukedom of Trondelag.
Skule’s head mounted on Trondelag Castle should remind him to stay loyal.
Just to prove that I am not just a bloody, heavy handed despot, I would like you to meet my cousin Asta. She is a murderer. Everyone knows it.
By all rights, she should be put to death.
But no, I can spot someone useful a mile away. Instead, I sent her to her brother’s court to live while things settle down.
The Arab Duchess of Meissen has offered to pledge loyalty to me. She lives in the heart of what was Germany, so I can’t see any reason to say yes, but still, maybe something will come of this…
And now Nassau has come along too. This is unexpected, but okay.