The Byzantines trapped the corsairs in the natural harbour of the small island of Poros, Maniakes"s lead ships smashing into the enemy flotilla. One of the dhows made a break for open water. Hardrada, in the bow of his vessel, urged his men to increase their efforts, yelling, “Row, row as if your lives were in peril!”
Bollason loomed at his shoulder, spray lashing across his face as the Norsemen strained, putting all of their effort into every pull on the oars, “You"ll never make it, Sigurdsson. You"ll fail, just like you did at Stiklestad!”
Hardrada"s stomach twisted into a knot of barely controlled rage, but he fought it down, knowing all of his attention needed focusing on the task at hand – to cut off the Arabs as they made for open water, and certain escape. He kept his face forward
