Marched under sword point to a secure area in the far part of the city, well away from Varangian eyes, the three Scandinavians were pushed unceremoniously into a squat watchtower, the door bolted from the outside. As the sound of hobnailed boots receded into the background, Hardrada groaned and paced the small, square room whilst Ulf sat in the corner, chewing his nails in silence; Haldor closed his eyes as if in sleep.
“This is just how it was before,” Hardrada spat, causing Ulf to start. “Another b****y prison cell my reward for helping them. The journey to the north, returning with the Varangians and overthrowing Michael. And what do I get?” He pounded the slimy, damp drenched walls with both fists. “To be locked up, like a criminal. Damn their eyes.”
“It"s not the same,” said Ulf, hi
