“The sad truth of it is,” said Maniakes as they wended their way through the throng of citizens swarming amongst the many stalls of the buzzing marketplace, “we did not do enough.”
Hardrada grunted. Alexius had set up their meeting but, always suspicious, the giant Viking insisted on it taking place in an area in full view of witnesses. Not for him the knife in the back, or the garrotte around the throat. Assassins lay in wait, of that he had no doubts.
“No sooner had we left than the Normans regrouped. They made mincemeat of us at Montepeloso, bettering your Varangians and causing the Empire shame.”
“That is not how it will be remembered.”
Maniakes snorted, “You think? We may have been heralded as saviours for overcoming Michael, but overall history will judge us harshly. We can wipe
