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Chapter 91: The Quiet Dismantling
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... the Greenland coast.
Its ramparts were rimmed with sharpened stakes, born of stone and mortar, cunningly laid, stout enough to turn aside a warband’s fury.
Within, long halls of driftwood and whalebone ribs clustered close, smoke coiling up from their high vents.
It was here on this frozen strand far from the crowded fjords of Iceland, that Vetrúlfr had carved his seat away from home.
Through the bitter months of winter, his men had worked the earth and rock, bui ...
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