The fleet dropped anchor in the bay and Maniakes sent signals for the captains to assemble on the shoreline. Hardrada, ruffled not only by his altercation with Bollason, but also from having to delay his assault on the corsair"s base, waded through the shallows to do Maniakes"s bidding.
A group of a dozen or more swarthy, weatherbeaten Byzantine sailors, eyed the approaching Viking with a mix of disdain and curiosity. Hardrada ignored them, pausing for a moment to wash the blood from his hands in the shallows of the crystal clear waters of the bay, before he stepped up to the General to salute him in the time-honoured way of the old Roman Empire. “Salve, my lord.”
Maniakes lifted his helmet from his head and arched a single eyebrow. “Impressive, Sigurdsson. I watched you overwhelming tho
