By the time Nikolias and his force of well-armed soldiers arrived at the Port of Sophia, Hardrada was nowhere to be seen.
Andreas, defiant as always, stood amidst the dockside workers who laboured at the start of a new day, together with the remnants of the crew sent to man the Viking"s flagship. The ship itself remained tied up alongside the harbour wall, the gently lapping water rocking it with an almost hypnotic motion and Nikolias gazed at it, wondering why events had conspired against him with such venom.
“My mother is dead.”
“Eh?” Andreas titled forward, straining. “What did you say?”
Captivated by the water, its depth, the promise of a soft embrace, warm and comforting, Nikolias" voice barely rose above a whisper. “I went home and she was dead. Someone … I thought…”
“Nikolias.”
