"Damnit..." Erik muttered, a harsh, disbelieving laugh escaping his lips. "It is who you think it is, Halig. The gods must have a really twisted sense of humor."
Torstein gripped his musket tighter,"Who is it, King Erik? Who commands this rebel city?"
"That stubborn old bastard riding the horse down there..." Erik said, "That is my uncle, Halfdan."
Years ago, when Erik first became the King of Norway, not everyone was happy.
Halfdan caused a massive uproar in the great hall, screaming that the old Viking ways were dying.
Soon after that argument, Halfdan packed his longships with his most loyal warriors and vanished into the night.
"I was entirely sure he went East," Erik said, shaking his head. "He told everyone he was sailing toward the lands of the Rus and the Byzantine borders to raid for gold the old-fashioned way. I thought he was either getting fat in a palace or rotting in a foreign prison by now."
