SAVIOR





THE DAY FELT like an eternity for Sophie, who had been unable to get any sleep due to the commotion in the lively city. Her head throbbed, burning with fever, and every bone in her body ached from the lack of rest.

Helen finally made an appearance, approaching Sophie, who barely had the energy to acknowledge her presence. "Sophie, my child," she spoke softly, as if afraid her voice might startle her. "I brought you some food."

"Water," Sophie tried to speak, her voice failing her.

"Of course, of course, I brought water too," Helen said as she brought the cup to Sophie's chapped lips, noticing the heat radiating from her head. "There you go, my poor child."

She wanted to tell her to stop calling her that, but she knew better than to waste her energy arguing with the older woman if she had any energy left at all. So, she drank from the cup that was held for her, nurturing the little coolness the water provided.

"You'll have to eat something," Helen told her as she moved the now empty cup away from Sophie's lips, which still felt the need for more water.

"I need," Sophie spoke weakly before she paused. "To sit down."

The poor girl had been standing for too long, as the ropes that tied her up forced her slacking body to remain in an upright position.

"I wish I could let you down, but I'm afraid I cannot," Helen said before someone approaching made the woman stumble back slightly.

"Helen," Sophie heard a familiar voice as she forced herself to look up and found King Ragnar approaching.

"I was just giving her some food, my lord," Helen spoke.

"Carry on," Ragnar motioned for her with a smile before his eyes found Sophie, who was avoiding looking at him.

Helen approached her again, as King Ragnar watched her offer Sophie some bread to take a bite, only for her to refuse.

"Come on, my child," Helen whispered in English this time, urging the girl to open her mouth. But again, she refused, causing the older woman to turn to King Ragnar, who was standing there watching the whole exchange.

"My lord, she was asking me if she could sit down," Helen started. "She's been standing for too long and-"

Without further words, King Ragnar was already pulling a knife from his belt as he approached Sophie, who didn't even bother looking up at him.

Cutting the tight ropes that bound her small wrists to the post, Sophie directly slumped down, causing Helen to rush to steady her as she assisted her in sitting down. "Thank you, my lord," Helen looked up at King Ragnar, ignoring the eyes of the crowd that were watching them curiously.

"Tend to her injuries," Ragnar said before he walked away to one of the guards and whispered something into his ear before he left.

Sophie's wrists were all red, as the tight ropes that held her up had left their marks on her delicate skin. Helen had forced the girl to eat while she applied some herbs she had gathered earlier over her wounds and sunburns.

The sun seemed to settle, cooling Sophie's body a little as she sat on the ground, leaning against the post. She could have run away at that moment, for she was left unbound with nothing to stop her. But she knew better; she wouldn't make it, not with her frail body.

The sound of approaching footsteps caused Sophie to open her tired eyes as she looked up at the towering silhouette above her, and even in the dark, she could make out his face. Ubbe.

"Let's get you out of here," he said before he knelt beside her, helping her up. He was gentle as if any extra pressure on her would break her. "Come on."

She was too weak to walk, causing him to almost drag her along with him as he kept her standing upright, while the people who stood there watching cleared the path. "Go back to your houses," he spoke loudly, making Sophie flinch as he held her too close.

"What are you doing, Ubbe?" Margrethe, who appeared out of nowhere, started following him.

"Not now, Margrethe," he said, trying his best to ignore her.

"You're letting her go?" Margrethe, who wasn't ready to let the matter go, started again. "You're forgetting all about what her father did?"

"What's in it for you, Margrethe?" Ubbe hissed, growing annoyed by his future wife. He already had enough on his plate and wasn't ready for her jealousy at that moment.

Ignoring her, Ubbe led Sophie to a cottage, as he pushed the door open, letting them both in. Lifting her off her feet, he carried her towards some mattress, where he laid her down before he turned away, noticing that Margrethe had followed him all the way in. With a scoff, she turned away and left, fortunately.

Sophie, in a state of delirium, was unaware of what was going on, except for the fact that she was carried somewhere warm and more comfortable, as she curled over herself before she felt someone covering her with some fur.

"Sleep," she heard a voice before the door to wherever she was left was shut, followed by some chatter that soon faded away, as Sophie felt herself drift into unconsciousness.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed when she opened her eyes again to the brightness shining through the creaks of the wooden walls. She managed to pull herself up to a sitting position before she tried to stand up, only to stumble back down on the low mattress.

Her legs were so weak, as the last thing she had eaten was the bread that Helen had forced her to eat, as she fixed her wounds. Where was Helen anyway?

Sophie tried to stand up one more time but failed again and again until she eventually found herself crawling towards the door. In her mind, she mocked herself as she remembered Ivar. She was just like him now, crippled, helpless, except Ivar wasn't helpless.

Reaching the closed door, Sophie pulled herself up with the assistance of the wooden wall, helping her steady herself as she tried to open the door, but to no avail. It was locked from the outside. Did Ubbe or whoever had brought her here lock her in a room like some animal gone wild? It seemed so, as she kept trying to open the door with no luck.

"Ubbe," she meant to shout, but her voice emerged too faint, and she could only manage feeble thumps against the door with her frail hands.

No one seemed to listen or bother. In the end, she gave up and crawled back to her bed where she slept again.

Sophie was awoken by a creak from the door being pried open, and a figure loomed, casting a shadow over her. Another followed, and she heard the door close again.

With wide eyes trying to make out the faces, Sophie watched as one of the men approached, towering above her, while the other remained back. She assumed it was Ubbe and someone he brought with him. However, when the man lowered himself over her, she stiffened as the smell of blood, mud, and smoke filled her nostrils.

The man began sniffing her as he crushed her with his weight. With no energy left in her body to fight, she was left defenceless, at the mercy of whoever those two were.

Was she hallucinating again?

Her mind halted when the man started choking her with one hand, while his other hand hovered over the hem of her dress attempting to lift it. That's when her body seemed to jolt into action as she slapped and clawed at his face repeatedly with whatever fight she had left in her.

The man grunted before he forcefully rolled her around, causing her face to hit the mattress. He was hoping to have his way with her, only for his hopes to meet their grave when the door was violently opened and someone stormed in, pulling the weight off Sophie's trembling body.

Sophie watched with wide, blurred eyes as the third man entered the scene, slaughtering the one who had tried to violate her before tending to the other.

The figure stood there with an axe in his hand, and Sophie couldn't recognize him until he leaned closer.

King Ragnar Lothbrok's blood-splattered face came into her vision as he rolled her over her back, noticing how she was still frozen in the same position her attacker had left her in.

He didn't speak a word. Instead, he brushed the tear that escaped her left eye, smearing her cheek with the attacker's blood in the process. She remained frozen, her wild eyes searching her saviour's face as she held back the tears that threatened to spill again

"Eat well, Sophie," Ragnar finally spoke with a smirk. "We're going to Wessex."

With that, Ragnar stood up and motioned to Helen and two other servants, who walked in carrying two trays of food.

She was finally going to Wessex, but for what purpose?