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Growing up can be a real pain.
 
Cecasander said:
The update is done, but I don't have time to fix it and find pictures today. Should be on tomorrow, though ;)
Hooray, I'm waiting eagerly! :D
 
St-Michaels-Isle-Chapel.jpg

Saint Michael's Isle
Saint Michael's Isle, March 12, 1074

Saint Michael’s Isle was a small, windswept island that was connected by the mainland by a narrow strip of sand. There was a chapel and half a dozen houses on the island and the people lived off herding and fishing, pretty much like the rest of Mann. It was a quiet, desolate place on the edge of earth, water and wind. This is where Aethelbert of Hereforda, Harold’s appointed regent and nestor of the Saxons on Mann lived as a monk.

Hunwald and Harold entered the chapel. In the front, three monks were on their knees. Praying. A fourth monk approached Hunwald. He talked Latin in a high-pitched voice, words that Harold could not understand. Then walked to the three, said something, and disappeared through a rear door. Hunwald waited. Harold said nothing, and looked around. The chapel was much smaller and plainer then the one in Saint Mary. The few windows above them allowed only some light, leaving the chapel in a kind of half darkness. Then again, the sky outside was nearly as dark grey as the stone this chapel was made out of. After a while, one of the monks approached Hunwald and Harold. It was Aethelbert. He was an old man with a short white beard and white hair. Harold had always thought monks were forced to shave their face and the top of their head. But maybe there were other rules of Aethelberts?

-

“Ah, Harold, good to see you, son. It has been a while. You have grown so much!”
The old man was clearly very happy to see him. Harold smiled.

“We didn’t want to disturb your prayers, Aethelbert. But Harold wanted to see you this spring. He has questions about his mother,” Hunwald added under his breath while he looked Aethelbert in the eyes. “Ah yes, I knew that time would come soon. What is it you want to know?”

Harold looked at the old man. Would he understand his pain?

“Aethelbert, why did my mother leave me? Why am I on Mann and she is still in England? Why has she not joined us?”
Aethelbert thought for a moment. “Ealdgyth, your mother, is not in England. She has found a refuge in Danemark, at the court her cousin Sveyn together with her other children.” “Other children?” “Yes, her children from her marriage with the King of Welsh… and Gytha, and… well… Let’s keep them out of it.”

Harold was stunned. He had brothers and sisters? Why wasn’t he told?

“Well, your mother wanted to go to Danemark to give them a chance for safety. She believed that you were safe here, with us,” Aethelbert continued. Hunwald held Harold’s shoulder. The boy remained silent, as his brains were filling with more questions. Who? Where? Why?
“We are your family, Harold. I have come to think you as a son,” Hunwald said.

Harold shook his head. “You’re not my father! And you both lied, to… to keep me here! I don’t want to be here. I want to go to Danemark!”
He escaped Hunwalds touch and ran out of the chapel, into the rain. Hunwald and Aethelbert looked at him as he ran further.

“Oh my…”

“Let him,” Hunwald said, “I’m afraid we’ll have to have another talk.”

-

“Okay, look,” Aethelbert started.

The walked along the cliff, overlooking the roaring sea. Seagulls were circling over them. Harold had never really liked the smell of the salt sea. Some said that the sea harboured all kinds of strange diseased. But Aethelbert wasn’t afraid of those, clearly.

“Your mother… she is an exceptional person. She went through a hell to save your brother and you, and then she also knew when she had to let you go.” “I have a brother too?” “Yes… you have a twin brother. Ulf,” Aethelbert said redundantly.“Where is he now? With mother? Why is he not here, on Mann?” “Your mother found it too dangerous. He was sick. I do not know, she never wrote much about Ulf. I think he’s in Danemark with her.”

Harold nodded. A twin brother. This didn’t really surprise him, he noticed. Maybe he had always felt it. He had always been lonely, even with Eanbert and Aslak around and all the people in Saint Mary.

“She believed it was her duty to keep her brothers in line. To prevent them from doing foolish things. Maybe she even believed she could have saved the Saxon earldoms, I don’t know either…”

“Do you still write to her?” “No. Sadly, the way to Danemark is too far and too dangerous. The things I hear of her I hear through Edgar, who lived at the court of the king of Scots. He still writes with your mother, as his letters would not have to cross the whole length of England.”

Harold gasped. “Edgar the Traitor!?” Aethelbert laughed, and patted Harold on the shoulder. “Well, yes. Let’s not talk about him now, okay?”

“Can you then tell me about my father?”

“Of course…”
 
So it took me a bit longer. I'm sorry, but sunny summer weather caught up with me :p I intend to add one more update before I'm going on vacation to Norway, next Thursday. It's already in the works, so it shouldn't pose a problem.

Also, you might notice the lack of any ingame update. This is simply because nothing interesting had had happened since the last update. However, I have been busy writing a kind of 'history book companion' to this story, which should involve the whole history in the British Isles (and to lesser extend, the rest of Europe) in order to provide a complete 'historical' background. It's still in the works, of course, but I should get a first piece done after I get back (around August 15).
 
I don’t want to be here. I want to go to Danemark!”
"But I was going into Denmark to pick up some power converters!"

“Yes… you have a twin brother. Ulf,” Aethelbert said redundantly.“Where is he now? With mother? Why is he not here, on Mann?” “Your mother found it too dangerous. He was sick. I do not know, she never wrote much about Ulf. I think he’s in Danemark with her.”
"That is the reason why your sister remains safely anonymous."

Harold gasped. “Edgar the Traitor!?” Aethelbert laughed, and patted Harold on the shoulder. “Well, yes. Let’s not talk about him now, okay?”

“Can you then tell me about my father?”
"Edgar the Traitor, who was a pupil of mine until he turned to evil, helped Scotland hunt down and destroy the Scions of Godwin. He betrayed and murdered your father."

Oh yes, I loves me this AAR.
 
phargle said:
"But I was going into Denmark to pick up some power converters!"


"That is the reason why your sister remains safely anonymous."


"Edgar the Traitor, who was a pupil of mine until he turned to evil, helped Scotland hunt down and destroy the Scions of Godwin. He betrayed and murdered your father."

Oh yes, I loves me this AAR.


Hahahahahahaha. :rofl:
 
Quite a moment of self-discovery.
 
Enewald - maybe he can grow up properly now
Edit: and you reached 3000 posts! Grats! :D

Phargle - aw crap, my storyline has been exposed already! Now everybody automatically knows that William is Harold's real father, and Ulf and Harold will have a homosexual romance going on when they meet, and that the Tower of London will be destroyed by Harold and his knights blowing it up from the inside. That's a whole lot of rescripting! :p

stnylan - and he's not even a teenager yet ;)
 
verdict.jpg

Eadhild quietly awaits the verdict

Saint Mary's witch trial
Saint Mary's Abbey. July 2, 1076

The accused?”

“Eadhild of Deoreby, head lady of the household of Haroldson.”

“What is she standing trial for?”

“The use of witchcraft and black magic against three men from the village of Saint Mary, who she made them fall in love with her and commit adultery. Also, she cursed the chickens of one the wives of one of those men. Also, she made one of the children of another man sick. Also, she stands accused of dealing and copulating with the devil.”

The Underking of Mann, Tadgh, looked at the woman. Those were serious accusations. Eadhild stood before him dressed in only a plain brown dress. Her hair, that was usually in a neat braid, now hang along her long face loose and uncombed. She hadn’t slept in a week. The Underking mumbled something and then looked at the inquisitor who stood by his side, and had come all the way from Fearna for this trial. The man was a fanatic, and if the Underking and Eadhild’s master Harold had not intervened, the woman would have been burned on stake days ago. The Saxons only would cooperate if it would be a fair trial. And there was no way the Underking of Mann could get around the Saxons these days. Like the Norse in the north, they were the real power on the island.

“How do you plead?” “Innocent ofcourse!” Eadhild said fiercely. “This is clearly a plot against my person by these peasants. If they cannot keep their men in line and out of my house, how am I to blame?”

“Harlot!” the inquisitor yelled, “So you do admit committing adultery with married men!? For that alone is punishable by death!” “Not on this island,” the Underking added, “But it makes your case a weak one.” “We insisted on a fair trial and hearing, sir,” Hunwald said to the Underking. “It’s her story against the story of three peasant women. In England such a trial would not even be held without a witness.” “Ah, but we do have witnesses. One of the children saw this harlot with her father. And it’s for anyone to see that her brother is really struck by a mysterious disease, and that the chickens haven’t laid an egg in a whole week.” “Then I insist that you allow me to gather proof and witnesses of our own,” Hunwald said.

The Underking shrugged and then nodded. “That sounds fair. I give you three days, Saxon, in which to gather evidence. The woman Eadhild shall remain a prisoner for that time.” “I thank you for your wise and just decision,” Hunwald said, and he bowed. The inquisitor could have strangled him, by the looks of it.

Eadhildwitchtrial.jpg

---

“I call forth Kerron, son of Fynn. One of the supposed victims. He has been interrogated by the master-of-arms of Saint Mary, Saewald,“ Hunwald informed the Underking.

An aging peasant man came in, dressed in plain fisherman’s clothes. He looked tired and beaten, and kept looking down to the ground. He looked at his wife – who stood by the inquisitor – for a moment, but quickly looked down again. The woman could be heard cursing.

“Alright, speak, peasant! Have you committed adultery under a spell?” “No… no sir. I committed adultery, there is no point denying. My little girl… she saw me. But it was… it was of my own free choice.” “Kerron, you filthy pig!” His wife shouted. “Shut up, you woman! You knew it as well as I did! Sir, it was her and her cursed friends who plotted to trial this woman, dear Eadhild as a witch. They have always been jealous of the Saxon women.” “That is a damn lie, Kerron! I bet that witching harlot and her Saxon henchman have placed another curse over you. I love you dearly, and I would never lie to my lord or to the church. And jealousy is a capital sin!”

Hunwald and the other spectators watched this domestic dispute unravel, some with disgust, others – like Hunwald – with amusement.

“Oh, come on, you never loved me anyway. It was your mother who forced you down my throat. We haven’t made love in over a decade, and it’s not a secret what you do with the goat boy to get some extra milk every week.” The man had turned all red. It was rather funny how easily he could be pushed over the edge, making a fool of himself and his wife.

“The court is no place for screaming,” the Underking said. “Lord, many people have resented the Saxons, taking land and property. Many Manx are jealous of their wealth and manners, and many others would rather marry a Saxon than a Manx. We… we are just poor while these Saxons live in wealth and luxury.”

The Underking looked at Hunwald, and they seemed to agree. Hunwald, as the de facto leader of the Saxons on Mann, had seen this resentment long ago. But what could be done?

“Very well,” the Underking sighed. “Let’s get this trial done then.”

---

“The method is inexcusable. And these peasants will get punished. But that does not take away the fact we are having a problem here.” Hunwald looked around at his little Saxon council. “There are thirty Saxon households on Mann, and the Abbey of Saint Mary, of which half of the monks is Saxon. There are at least ten times as many Manx households in the south alone,” Saewald said. “What can be done?”

“Ever since we arrived here, these lands have become richer and more fertile than ever before. But the Manx have had the worst soil and therefore do not benefit. This is why so the abbey has accepted so many lay servants the past years, so they can live and work on the abbey’s land,” the abbot Egfryth said. The abbot was a fairly young man, about who all sorts of stories circulated across the island. It was said he broke his vow of celibacy every Monday. “But there is hardly enough land for us to feed the whole parish from.”

Harold had sat and listened through the entire trial and had not understood much of it. But he did know that the peasants were upset at his people because they believed that they stole all the good land. “Hunwald, can we not help them?” he asked.

Hunwald smiled. “Ah, and how would you do that? Give them back the tribute they pay us? That will ruin us, child. I though you were already taught account keeping by Oswiu?” Oswiu had come to Mann recently and had been mostly busy with keeping account of the store rooms and the armoury, but also offered to lecture Harold for a nominal fee.

“No, I mean that I can grant land to the abbey. That way it can feed the feed the peasants, and can pay a part of their extra harvest to me,” Harold said.

Hunwald stared at the nine-year-old boy. “That… that could work for the abbey and the peasants, at least. You should not give away land, though.”

“It would be a very pious act, though,” Egfryth said.


donationtochurch.jpg
Harold donates some land to the church
 
This is the last update in at least two weeks, but at least three or four updates are on schedule for this chapter. The next two will not really involve Harold, but will focus on some interesting events which will occur on the British Isles ;)
 
I like the way you build up the story and subtly incorporate the in-game events in the story. Also interesting to see now when Harold is getting older by the day -- by all looks, he will be a good ruler of Mann. If he can keep the Manx population in reins, that is. ;)
 
Harold is indeed starting to mature.
 
william-the-conquerer.jpg
William I of England​
The Scion of Brian
Eglwys Rhos, kingdom of Rhos. May 18, 1079

The king strode around in his working room. He was restless, and felt quite helpless. Such a dirty feeling! He was Muirdertach Ua Brian, King of Mhumhain and Ulaidh, two of the four great kingdoms of Eire! He was the great grandson of Brian Boru, nonetheless, destroyer of the House Ui Neill and High King of Eire! He should not have summoned here, to this remote hill fortress in newly-conquered land inhabited by the Brythons, by some Ostman invader. What in the name of God did he do here? The sun was already setting. Was this some kind of ploy? Would he be visited by assassins, or an army? Would his brother Tadh seize power and crown himself king while he was away, like he had intended for years? It made Muirdertach sick. He should leave, now!

Someone knocked. Assassins wouldn’t know, would they? “Yes, enter,” Muirdertach said dully. He turned around. It was one of the unwashed Brythons. Next to him was another man who – by sheer contrast – was clean, shaved and wore noble fines. And a red tabard with two golden cats.

The man bowed before him. “Good evening, lord. My name is Ranulf Mortimer, representative of my lord and master, King William of England and Normandy. My lord and master wishes to be granted an audience with your majesty, to discuss matters of great importance” he said in a crude form of Latin.

Miurdertach looked at the man. He looked so refined, so educated and beautiful… well, so decadent… Did all Normans look like this, or was this some way to impress him? “I didn’t come here all the way for nothing, Ostman. Tell your king that I grant his request, but we shall only talk as equals. King to king.”

The man nodded. “I shall tell him so, lord”.

-

Only a few moments later a small entourage of well-dressed men entered the working room. They all wore fine linen and clean leather. The tallest of them was a grand, shaven man who looked forty, but was in fact a decade older. He looked proud and powerful, inspiring in a way. The Normans didn’t have to dress in linens to impress. Everywhere William came, would leave the people in awe.

His voice was now what one would expect, though. It was soft and polite and maybe even kind. “My dear Muirdertach, heir of Brian Boru, I have been told. Like Saint Patrick came to Eire to cleanse it from pagans and snakes, your illustrious ancestor cleansed it from the Viking pagans that ravaged your land.” “It pleases you that you know the history of my people, majesty. Your own legacy is not unknown to me, and quite a legacy it is, overcoming all these trials as they were put in your path.” Muidertach returned the favour. “I would like to know why you asked me to come here, in this forsaken hellhole of Brythony.”

William smiled. “Well then. We both have something we can use.”

“Please continue.”

“It is in my best interest to have my borders secure. Both my neighbours on the land as overseas I see as potential allies. As you fought the heroic war against the heretic king of Gwynedd, you a both. Accept me as your nominal lord and master and I shall support your cause to the High Kingship of Eire, helping you restore the kingdom your bloodline deserves.”

Muirdertach froze, as his mind worked like crazy. He hadn’t expected this. An alliance, maybe, but not this. “You… you want me to accept you as… as my overlord!? You want me to betray my people and my bloodline and abandon my crown!? This insult I cannot tolerate!”

William remained at ease. “I ask you not to betray or abandon anything. I will not touch your titles or your land. I will not tax you for anything but the aid I provide.”

“What if I refuse?” Sound of battle came from outside the building.

“That’s very simple, in fact. I shall strike you down myself, burn this fort to the ground, and I am quite sure your brother Tadh will accept my proposal. Go ahead and refuse, and see if I care, your majesty. What do you have to loose?” William’s kind voice sounded so much different now. It made Muirdertach shiver, and he noticed how the energy left his body.

“Fine…”

“Good. One more thing, though. It has come to my attention that a child of my old friend Harold fled to Eire…”

-

When it was discovered that Muirdertach had voluntarily submitted to king William, it caused quite an outcry in the British Isles. Muirdertach, who was king of the north (Ulster) and the southwest (Munster) of Eire, had been the third most powerful ruler on the Isles. William had chosen him for that exact reason, making an example out of Muirdertach and believing that the less powerful lords of Wales and Eire would soon come crawling to William’s feet.

The result, however, was somewhat different. The remaining Welsh lords, led by the young king Ceneu of Gwynedd, instead found another lord in king Erik of Sweden. Erik swore to protect the Welsh as his own against any Norman aggression. This gave the Welsh much-needed breathing space. In the north, king Malcolm of the Scots became increasingly weary of his southern neighbour and he promised aid to his Celtic brethren should they be attacked. Meanwhile Malcolm still granted sanctuary to the English usurper Edgar Ætheling and his sister Margaret. On Eire, king Enna of Laigin forged an alliance with the king of Connacht. They would stand united against Muirdertach o’Brian’s bid for High Kingship.

King William had been enraged at these clear defiances. It was from this time that he would become more cruel and withdrawn, and his courtiers began to worry for the king’s health and sanity. In any case, although William’s dominance of the Isles was growing, he also faced growing resistance, and it became clear that more bloodshed would be inevitable.


Munstertoengland.jpg
The situation after Muirdertach's vassalage​
 
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I returned from Norway about a week ago, but personal kept me from concentrating on the story. But not anymore! I am all stacked up with ideas as well. On an unrelated note, Ireland is west of Scandinavia, therefore they called the vikings eastmen (or ostmen, as Muirdertach did) rather than northmen/norsemen.

Enewald - I only gave away a small piece of land, which gives 40 piety for a 50% chance of -1 stab. I had +1 stab, and was lucky, as it didn't go down.

Snuggie
- Thanks :) He is bound to become a 'judge', by the way. I think Harold needs some test op power, to get the support of the Manx and Norse, but I don't like to foreshadow too much ;)

Phargle - Goat Boy will fight with Mâââh-gical powAARs!

stnylan - I kinda wish he'll be beatified one day :p