She was just reaching the last crossroads before the great hall where the celebration was taking place and she glanced down the side street. Still not another living soul in sight and she let out a long sigh. The leather corset was tighter than she was used to and she tugged at the bottom of it, but something felt out of place and she glanced down to find that one of the laces had come untied and was starting to loosen. As she worked to pull it tight again and re-tie it, she heard something and looked up to see that several men were walking towards her. She wasn't sure where they had been hiding, but it was obvious they weren't men from town.
Reaching for her sword, she cursed under her breath when she realized she had left it on the table at her house. She had made a comment that she should get it before joining the celebration, but the women who had helped dress her had complained that it wouldn't go well with the dress.
"Dhurial requests your presence," one of the men said. His sword was already in his hand.
"I'm afraid I'm busy at the moment," she said. She wasn't sure who Dhurial was or why he would want to see her, but she didn't rightly care. "Tell him he'll have to reschedule for another time that's more convenient for me."
"He thought you might say that, and he said to tell you that you have no choice in the matter. You'll be coming with us,"
While he was speaking, she was backing slowly away from him, but she didn't realize that she was backing closer to another man who was standing behind her. The moment she noticed that he was there, she tried to scream, but it was muffled as he yanked a heavy hood over her head. She fought for her life, but with four of them against her and the fact that she was unarmed, they were able to carry her off without much effort.
"Where is she?" Chief Yjorgan boomed. He looked at the small group of women who had helped her dress for the occasion. "She was dressed and ready when you left the house?"
"Yes!" Sabine snapped. "Of course she was dressed!"
"You don't suppose she's changed her mind about coming?"
"Father," Eirik said calmly. "Perhaps she's just nervous."
"I don't care what she is!" his father snapped. "I don't trust her. I think she's going to run. Go get her, right now!"
Eirik let out a sigh. "Father, just because she's a few minutes late doesn't mean she's going to run away. There have been plenty of times where she's had a chance to run and hasn't."
The chief snapped his fingers and two guards stood up. "Go see if you can find her!" he barked.
The crowd was starting to whisper by the time the two guards returned, slamming the door open as they rushed in. "She's not at the house," one of them said.
"Did you check her house, or my house?" Sabine stood up and asked.
"Both!" the other guard said.
"Well, where else could she be!?" the chief demanded, his voice echoing through the hall. "Find her and bring her to me!"
Eirik went running towards her house. He was faster and lighter on his feet than he looked and burst into her house without even breaking a sweat. He found her sword and dirk lying neatly on the table. Nothing in the house was out of place and all of her other belongings were still in the house. If she had left town, she had taken literally nothing with her.
He walked outside and looked around before walking to Sabine's house. She had said that was where they had left Sophie after getting her ready for the celebration. Her brown dress, the one he had just seen her wearing that morning, was draped over a chair near the fireplace and her favorite boots were neatly placed on the floor beside it.
Outside again, he knew that she could have taken a shortcut down a trail that came out right beside the great hall. But Sabine had spent time getting her dressed up nice, so she probably wouldn't have risked getting her clothes dirty. That meant she would have walked straight down the main road and he traced the steps he thought she might have taken.
He came to that last crossroads and his heart sank into his stomach. He ran over to the edge of the road and picked up the small, leather shoes that were lying on the ground. There was nothing else, no other clue that she had been there, and no sign of where she had gone. But he knew she hadn't gone willingly.
Walking back to the hall, he set the shoes on the table in front of his father. "These were just down the street."
"Why would her shoes be in the middle of the road?"
"She's been taken! Can't you see?" Eirik felt panic welling up in his chest and he was trying to stay calm as he considered who may have taken her. "We need to send out search parties,"
"Don't be ridiculous!" his father snapped. "That woman is a trickster. She fooled you into thinking she would stay! She fooled all of us and now she's gone!"
Ulriech's wife giggled and Ulriech chuckled softly. "Well, I guess I made the right choice after all!"
"The celebration's been cancelled," Yjorgan announced loudly. "Go back to your homes!"
Eirik couldn't believe that after all she'd done for the city, his father still didn't trust Sophie. He stormed off and went to his house, where he gathered every piece of armor and weaponry he owned. His father may have resigned himself to the fact that she had run away, but he knew it wasn't true. He wondered what he was going to say when he realized that he was going to go after her himself. When he stepped outside, there was already a group of armed men waiting for him.
"Where to?" one of them asked.
"You don't have to go," Eirik said with a shake of his head. "My father isn't going to be happy if you follow me.
"We go where you go," they all agreed. "And we've fought side by side with Lady Sophie. If she's in danger, we will fight to the death to bring her back."
"Thank you," he said solemnly. "I honestly don't know where to start, but I can show you where I found her shoes."
Yjorgan flew into a rage and threw his mug of ale against the wall. "What do you mean he's gone after her!?"
"I mean he's gone to search for her," the elderly man cleared his throat. "And he's taken six of the mercenaries with him."
"What!?"
"You know those men consider him their leader. They'd follow him anywhere," Ulriech grumbled. He knew they wouldn't do the same for him.
"Don't worry," his wife huffed. "When you become chief, they'll have no choice but to follow you,"
"I'll make sure of that!"
Eirik stood in the shadows and took a good look at the keep. He was fairly certain he could sneak right through the front gate, but the men wanted to scale the walls and take the inhabitants by surprise. He still hadn't seen Sophie and he was cautious to proceed without knowing exactly where she was or what condition she was in. Besides that, he wanted to know if the lord of the keep had ordered her capture, or if one of his generals had done it on their own. Whoever was responsible was going to die.
"We can go in the west gate," Svandere whispered, silently returning from his post nearby. "It's lightly guarded and we could overtake them without being detected."
"Any sign of her?" Eirik asked.
"No sir," he shook his head.
"I need to make sure she's in a safe place before we storm in there. The last thing I want to do is give them a chance to use her as leverage."
There she was. They had her hands and feet chained and she was still wearing the dress Sabine had made for her. Only it was filthy, wet and torn. She looked thin. It had only been a week and a half since she'd been taken, but he wondered if they had fed her at all since then. The braid that hung down her back was tousled and loose.
And Eirik was angry. Angry that they dared to treat her like a common prisoner. He turned to the man behind him. They had decided to go in together to see what they were up against. "You stay here. I'm going in after her alone."
"Sir, I can be of use,"
"I know. If anything happens to me, I want you to burn this place to the ground. Do you understand me?" Eirik whispered.
"Yes sir."
Eirik had been about to step out of the shadows where he and the other man had crept into the keep, when the man's hand on his arm stopped him and they held their breath as two guards came and pulled her out of the cell they were holding her in. They held back slightly as they followed him while he led her along a long, damp hallway before pulling her up two sets of stairs. She was then shoved onto her knees in front of a man who appeared to be their leader.
"Sophie of Svangard," the man on the fur lined chair at the back of the room said. "Another night in the bowels of the keep. And another chance for you to change your mind."
"Oh look," Sophie said with bored disdain. "If it isn't Dhurial of Moldy Dunrope. What do you want now?"
"What say you, Sophie," Dhurial decided to ignore her insult. "Have you decided to take my hand or would you like to spend another night in the dungeon?"
"That was your dungeon?" she feigned surprise. "Wow! I thought it was actually quite comfortable. So comfortable, in fact, that I would prefer to stay down there. To wait for my love to come rescue me."
"Your love!" the man laughed.
Eirik smiled. She had called him her love.
"Or you could set me free. He might not burn your keep into a pile of ash if you just let me walk away."
"Your 'love' doesn't even know where you are!" he snapped. "And besides, why would you agree to marry Ulriech of Svangard, who probably won't live to be chief, when you could be the mistress of Dunrope?"
"I'm going to stop you right there," she smiled sweetly. She cleared her throat. "I did not say that Ulriech of Svangard was my love. You assume far too much. Which makes you ignorant and stupid."
"Watch your mouth, wench!"
"And the odds of me marrying you, are about the same as me ever marrying Ulriech. What could you possibly offer me?"
"I'm wealthy! And very powerful!"
"You're old." she said. "And feeble. So much so that you couldn't even come get me yourself! You had to send your men to do it for you!"
He growled and leaped to his feet, coming down the steps from his 'throne' and leaning in close to her face. "I am not feeble, by any means, woman!"
"Compared to my love, you are a decrepit old man," she held her head high.
"Who is your love?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.
"Eirik of Svangard," she said.
He stood up straight. "Eirik! The second born!?"
"That would be him," she smiled, continuing to hold her head high as he stood there, staring at her in disbelief.