Chapter Sixty-two

"So have I," Erik sighed. "Someone here is helping Sigurd and whoever it is, is either trying to protect you, Ivar, or they didn't know about your attack. I'm not sure which one to believe yet. I was going to talk to Rolf, but he doesn't like me very much after what happened with Enid."

"What happened with Enid?" Tyr asked.

"Rolf is Rolf," Erik waved his hand in the air. "But I stopped him from going through with it."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Tyr turned, glaring at Enid beside him.

"What's there to say?" she shook her head. "Nothing happened. Erik stopped-,"

"You should've said something," Try cut in. "I would've protected you, Ivar would've protected you."

Enid stared at him, not knowing what to say, not knowing if what he said was true, and then she looked at Ivar, remembering those times when he could have saved her, when he had done nothing and only told her she didn't understand what was at stake. Would he have just done the same thing again?

"Thank you," Ivar said, his eyes fixed on Erik, and Erik tilted his head to the side, his lips twitching like he was stopping that smile from turning into a grin, and then Enid felt something suddenly wash over her, something warm that left her breathless.

"No need to thank me," Erik said. "I told you she was a friend, but you're wrong, Tyr. She doesn't need much protection anymore, just experience. Actually," he said, bringing his hands up to rest behind his head. "I would've liked to have seen that fight, but Rolf is not at his best right now. It wouldn't have been fair."

Enid saw it then, saw her up against that giant of a man, a man whose one shoulder was not that much smaller than her waist. How would she ever be able to beat him? She'd been able to do nothing before, not even the second time he'd come for her and she'd been training so hard, but then she saw it, that cup flying for her head, found herself ducking to dodge it and heard it crashing against the other side of the room.

"You're doing it again, Enid," Erik said, that light in his eyes suddenly sharp and dark.

"What are you doing, Erik? You almost-," she started, but he didn't let her finish.

"You have to believe you'll win."

"No matter who's in front of you," she sighed.

"Good," Erik nodded, and then those palms dragged across the table again as he leaned back and sighed. "Well this has been fun. I'll let you know if I find anything."

Enid watched him stand, watched him walk around the table and she still didn't know by the time he'd almost made it to the door. Some part of her wanted to ask him to stay, some part of her was still reeling from everything he had just said and never wanted to see him again.

"That's not why Enid brought you here," Ivar said, and Enid turned to him, her eyes going wide, her back suddenly stiff and uneasy, and Erik turned too, studying Ivar from the corner of his eye with his eyebrows raised.

"It's not?"

"No," Ivar said, standing and pulling Enid into his seat. "She's teaching the children English."

"Aahhh…" Erik turned around, that smile on his face then a grin, his eyes fixed on Enid. "That's what you meant by fair. Am I still allowed to join, Enid?"

Enid looked away, glaring at the table in front of her, her face scrunching up in a slight scowl. She wanted to tell him that he wasn't, but Ivar had stopped him from leaving. She felt him standing behind her, felt that warmth travel the small distance between them and she sighed, knowing he must have his reasons.

"Yes," she said, and Erik slowly sat back down at the table, his eyes fixed on her, that smile of his warming his face.

"Don't look like that, Enid," Erik said. "You look like you're about to cry again."

"I'm not!" she snapped, slamming her hand down on the table and glaring at him, but he only laughed for a moment before he leaned towards her, his hands buried under the table, his chin then inches away from the wooden surface.

"I meant what I said, Enid. I consider you a friend."

She stared at him, some part of her still angry, still reeling and feeling like she was swept up in some terrible current whenever he looked at her. Some part of her was happy to hear him say that.

"Are you like this with all of your friends?" she asked.

"No," he smiled. "Only the good ones."