No one knew how long they spent on the north coast of Africa. They went from one arid, barren place to the next, upturning rocks, exploring caves, ransacking lost villages and as they moved through the land, they accumulated their wealth.
Bollason sat like a king in the centre of the camp, regaling the men with stories of his past adventures, and they listened like children, hanging on every word. In the background, Harald Hardrada steamed, arms crossed, stoic. They all called him Hardrada now. He cared not. Two things alone dominated his thoughts. How much gold was his, and how he could undermine Bollason.
His opportunity came on the evening the Caliph of Tunis finally caught up with them.
At the end of a productive day, the men settled down around several well-stocked fires, some to e
