Shrieks of dread-filled women were carried on the wind when the dragon heads of the Northmen’s long ships emerged from the mist. ‘duman, buğ, duman!’ an old fisherman cried out before Sigurd kicked him in the chest, having him roll over in the muddy riverbank. As the man doubled up, he was again introduced to the leather boot of the red-haired warrior and as the elder sprawled about, it was Heimkell who broke his neck with the weight of his painted round-shield. ‘Bastards, these Easterlings..’ he commented.
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the east
