THE SAIL





SOPHIE'S LIFE had undergone a profound shift in the past few months as King Ragnar Lothbrok and his Viking crew prepared for their voyage to England in the coming spring.

Since Ubbe had brought her to the cottage, she had been confined there, and she had lost track of how much time had passed. The days dragged on with a monotonous routine, spent mostly in solitude. Despite being their captive, they ensured she was cared for, sending Helen to provide her with food and warm baths.

Sophie found herself with nothing to occupy her time—no chores, no responsibilities. The lack of purpose was slowly gnawing at her, making her feel like she was losing her grasp on reality.

King Ragnar had not visited her since the day he rescued her from her attackers. That harrowing incident haunted her nights, and she found herself unable to forgive him. While he did rescue her and stationed guards outside her confinement, it was his actions that set the chain of events in motion, and she couldn't shake her feelings of resentment towards him.

Unlike his father, Ubbe visited her from time to time making sure she had everything she needed. He was too kind to her to an extent that made her question whether he was truly a Viking and the son of Ragnar Lothbrok.

Sophie had been looking forward to the day she would return home to her father and her brother whom she had missed infinitely, but her nerves didn't settle when she thought about what the Vikings were planning to do. They weren't just gonna hand her over to her father and leave, were they?

She had her doubts.

The day had finally arrived when Helen helped Sophie prepare for her voyage back to her homeland. It was her third time on a ship after her initial trip to Rome, but her first time on a Viking ship, leaving her uncertain of what to anticipate.

From what Helen had gathered, King Harald Finehair was joining the expedition, supporting his Norwegian ally, Ragnar Lotbrok. Helen had informed Sophie of his aspirations to become the King of all Norway, a goal achievable only if Ragnar was eliminated. However, Sophie didn't concern herself too much with their machinations; all she cared about was returning home safely. But that was something no one could guarantee. Who knew what schemes Ragnar Lotbrok had in mind?

"Why don't you come with me, Helen?" Sophie inquired as the older woman fastened her dress.

"I have no place else to go," Helen replied softly. She had shared her story with Sophie—the tale of how she ended up enslaved, forced to leave her two children behind during a Viking Jarl's raid on her hometown. "It's been too long."

"You could stay with me," Sophie suggested. "My father wouldn't object."

"They wouldn't let me leave, Sophie," Helen said. "We both know that. I'm still their slave."

"We can ask King Ragnar," Sophie persisted. "He surely wouldn't mind. He likes you."

"You're not in a position to do that, my child," Helen reminded her with a weak smile. "Don't worry about me. I've grown accustomed to this place."

"Perhaps, one day I'll return for you," Sophie promised, embracing the woman who had been her steadfast guide in this foreign land. She had grown more attached to Helen than she had anticipated. The woman had been her guiding light from the very start, and Sophie couldn't be more grateful. Perhaps their friendship was the only silver lining in this wretched place. "I'll miss you, Helen."

"I'll miss you too, my child."

Parting with her was one of the most challenging moments. Helen had been her sanctuary when she needed one, and she thanked her repeatedly as they stood by the fleet of ships awaiting the Vikings. "I'll never forget all you've done for me," Sophie's voice cracked as she hugged Helen for the last time.

"Stay safe, my child," Helen implored tearfully.

With a nod, Sophie stepped away from her friend, her eyes scanning the faces in the crowd. Queen Aslaug nodded at her and smiled, a gesture that Sophie reciprocated before her gaze fell on Yelda. She couldn't fathom what had transpired in that young woman's mind ever since she had learned the truth about the Vikings Sophie's father had slain. Yelda never gave her the chance to explain.

With one last glance at Sophie, Yelda turned away and walked away from the gathering, prompting Sophie to shift her gaze to Margrethe and Ubbe, who were embracing. She hadn't even had the opportunity to speak to that traitor, not that she wanted to, anyway. Sophie turned away and followed Ivar, who was stumbling his way onto the ship while his father waited impatiently.

The ship Sophie boarded carried King Ragnar and his sons, Lagertha, Athelstan, Floki, his wife Helga, as well as Bjorn and Torvi, along with a few others she didn't recognize. The other ships carried the rest of the Vikings, among whom she could only recognize King Harald and his brother Halfdan.

"Are you ready to go home, Princess?" she heard King Ragnar's voice as he leaned against a post, standing behind her.

"Yes, King Ragnar," she replied, turning her gaze back to Helen, who was waving her farewell.

"Good," he murmured.

And so they set sail across the North Sea, each harbouring their own ambitions. Sophie found herself hoping they weren't planning to exact their revenge on her father, for at this point, hope was all she could hold on to.

"You must be so happy that you're finally going home," Ivar's voice broke her reverie as he scraped his crutch over the wooden floor before sitting beside her.

"I am," she told him, keeping her eyes fixed on Torvi seated opposite her.

"What brought you to Kattegat, anyway?" he inquired, studying her face while she avoided looking at him.

"I was sold to your mother," she told him.

"I meant, how did a princess like you end up as a slave?"

"It's a long story," Sophie said.

"Well, surprisingly, we've got all the time," Ivar grinned.

She noticed Ragnar's gaze on the two of them, seemingly attentive to their conversation.

"I was sent on a pilgrimage," Sophie said, stealing a glance at Ragnar.

"And what's that?" Ivar queried.

"A religious journey to Rome," Sophie explained.

"What for?" Ivar probed again.

"To meet the Pope," Sophie sighed. She was growing bored and didn't feel like talking, especially to Ivar, who was surprisingly amicable.

"Your people are peculiar," Ivar chuckled. "So are your gods."

"Have you ever been to England, Ivar?" Sophie asked.

"No," he replied. "But I'm looking forward to it. Too bad they're all going to die, don't you think?"





note

Hi! I've missed you all!! Well, I'm not totally back but here's an update for this week, the next chapter will probably be published next week (I'm still working on it and kinda stuck).

If you did enjoy this chapter make sure to vote!!!

Thank you 🖤