She wasn't sure where he found the extra cloak, but he draped one over her and told her to get some sleep. The men had long since dozed off and she slept for a while too, but eventually she woke up and saw that he was still sitting up, keeping the fire going.
Pulling the cloak tight around her shoulders, she moved over to sit by him. "I'm sorry." she said.
He glanced at her before staring back at the fire.
"I'm sorry I wasn't paying attention. And I'm sorry I didn't hear them and that they were able to take me so easily. And I'm sorry I yelled at you. And that you feel you always have to watch out for me."
He chuckled. "I don't mind keeping an eye on you, Sophie," he said softly. "And I'm sorry you thought I was angry with you, because I wasn't. I .....was scared."
"You?The mighty Eirik of Svangard. Scared?" she smiled.
"Yes. Because I know all of the things they might have done to you." He said. "And I would have blamed myself."
She laughed softly.
"What's so funny?" he asked.
"The prophesy." she shrugged. "It says this woman you've all been looking for is supposed to come and save the prince of Svangard and you all still seem to think it's me, but you've spent more time saving me than I ever have saving your brother."
"My father still thinks there's a chance you'll marry him."
"Who? Ulriech?" she wrinkled her nose. "No way!"
"Are you saying he hasn't grown on you?"
She shrugged. "Maybe a little. Like, I probably wouldn't kill him myself now, but I'm not going to let anyone else kill him either." She loved the way he pretended he wasn't smiling.
"Get some sleep," he said gently.
"What about you?" she asked.
"I'll wake Sven in a while and have him take over watch." he replied. "Don't worry about me."
She laid down on the ground beside him and pulled the cloak around her. Soon she was fast asleep.
It was early the next morning when they were awakened by Sven who yelled suddenly when he spotted the men who'd taken her the night before. They looked angry and were charging their campsite with swords drawn.
Everyone scrambled to their feet, but it took a few minutes for them to be fully awake and draw their swords. Three men were killed before they were able to defend themselves.
Eirik quickly shook Sophie awake and handed her the weapons she had abandoned the night before. He stood guard with his weapons in his hands as she disentangled herself from the cloak and got her wits about her.
When it was all over, Sophie sank to her knees. She had never had to fight so hard in her life.
Eirik stumbled over to her and put his hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?" he asked.
"I'm fine," she panted, looking up at him. That was when she saw the blood running down his arm. "Are you hurt?"
He shook his head. "This was from yesterday. It just reopened is all,"
"Did you clean it? Or wrap it? You can't just leave it!"
He chuckled softly. "It's not that serious," he assured her.
Sophie sighed and leaned back in her chair. The women had been fussing over her since they had returned and she had been stripped, scrubbed, and redressed. Her hair had been brushed and braided and her nails had somehow been cleaned like she hadn't seen in months. It was almost like spending a day at the spa back home.
"Who knew keeping the prince of Svangard alive would be so much work," she sighed.
"I didn't realize he needed any help." One of the girls laughed.
"Well, if he'd shut up long enough to get anything done, maybe he wouldn't."
The girl looked at her funny, but shrugged it off.
"You have no idea how relieved I was when we got back," Sophie said. "If I had to listen to his jabbering for one more minute, I think I might have stuck him myself."
"Are you talking about Ulriech, or Eirik?" the girl asked.
"Ulriech. Why?"
All three girls laughed. "Ulriech isn't the prince of Svangard,"
"What do you mean? He's the oldest, isn't he?"
"Well, yes." She replied. "But I don't think anyone in town refers to him as the prince. Eirik's the one we call the prince."
"Eirik?"
"Well, Ulriech is going to be chief one day. So, we just call him the next chief. Eirik will always be the prince of Svangard."
Sophie gasped and the girls stared at her.
"What?" one of them finally asked.
"The prophesy!"
"What about it?"
"It says the woman is supposed to save the prince of Svangard!"
"Yes."
"I've been trying to save the wrong person!"
"What?" they all asked as she leaped out of her chair and fled the house.
She found Eirik in the lists. The cut to his arm hadn't seemed to slow him down at all as he hacked away at the poor fellow who was just doing his best to keep his sword up. Gasping his thanks when she interrupted them, the young man limped away to catch his breath.
"You don't exactly look like you're dressed for training," Eirik said, sticking the tip of his sword into the ground and leaning casually onto it. He didn't appear to even have broken a sweat.
"What do the villagers call you?"
"Eirik."
"No. Aside from your name. A nickname of sorts."
"I've only heard them call me Eirik," he shrugged.
"What do they call Ulriech?"
"Ass. Oaf." he shrugged. "I think they got it from you,"
She rolled her eyes. "The prophesy. It says the 'woman' is supposed to save the prince of Svangard, doesn't it?"
"Yes."
"Do you know of anyone....anyone at all, that refers to Ulriech as the prince of Svangard?"
He shrugged. "Well, no."
"No. Of course not. Because they don't!"
"What are you getting at?" he was more confused now than when they'd started the conversation.
"The girls and I were talking when they were braiding my hair and the subject came up. They don't call Ulriech that, they call you that."
"Me? Why would they call me that?"
"I don't know exactly. They said that since Ulriech will be chief one day, they just call him 'chief-to-be' or something like that."
"I'm still not quite understanding the purpose of this conversation."
"I've been trying to protect the wrong person!" she threw up her hands.
"Well, why would you need to protect me?" he asked.
"How the heck should I know!?" she exclaimed. "I didn't write the damn prophesy, I'm just assumed to be fulfilling it!" she gave up and stormed off.
Eirik watched her go and was no less confused than when she'd entered the lists.
Sophie burst into the main hall and all heads turned to look at her. "Where would I find a copy of that stupid prophesy? In writing." She asked.
The chief stood up. "Well, it's in the scrolls," he stuttered. It had been months since he'd first met this woman, and she still surprised him with her sudden entrances into the hall where most women of the village never ventured.
"And where would I find those?" she asked.
"You can't just go digging through the scrolls. They're....sacred!" he blurted.
"If you want to continue referring to me as the woman from this damn prophesy, you're going to show me the damn scrolls!" she snapped. "Because I think we have it all wrong!"
"How so?" he asked.
"The prophesy mentions the prince of Svangard. And we've all been assuming that meant Ulriech, right?"
"Well, yes. I suppose so."
"And who, in this village, refers to Ulriech as the prince of Svangard? No one."
He thought about this. "I suppose you're right."
"Then why the hell have I been forced to protect Ulriech? And does the prophesy even say anything about protection? From what I've heard, it says 'saves' not protects. There are many ways to save someone. I'd like to read it for myself, if you don't mind."
The chief nodded and motioned for one of the men to take her to the archives. "But don't let her touch anything!" he called after them.
There were hundreds of scrolls and Sophie was amazed that the man who'd taken her to look for it, knew right away which scroll he was looking for. He pulled it out of a pile of other scrolls and opened it on a long, heavy looking table.
She had been standing near the table for a while, poring over the words, over and over, when a rat ran across her foot and she let out a small shriek and jumped back. She had never encountered rats until she had come through that portal, and though it was an everyday thing, they still startled her.
The man who'd shown her the scrolls looked at her as though he'd never seen a woman react that way and wondered if the chief was right and she was a little bit out of her mind.
"You don't think they're disgusting?" she asked.
"I never really thought about it," he shrugged. "They're just always there."
"Hm," she grumbled, turning her attention back to the scroll on the table in front of her.