Read Online Odin's Shadow (Sons Of Odin Book 1) (9th Century Viking Romance) by Erin S. Riley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Erin S. Riley
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Adult, Historical Romance, Brothers, Ireland, secrets, Norway, Viking, 9th Century, Viking Ship, Hasty Marriage, Irish Bride, Viking Warlord Husband
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anything I have ever heard."
"That isn't a real language—Ainnileas and I made it up when we were children."
"What did he say to you?"
"Nothing." Selia gazed out at the horizon. She liked Ulfrik, but had again said too much. He seemed to have a way of drawing things out of her. "He said goodbye."
He scrutinized her as though he knew she was lying. She changed the subject, switching back to her stilted Norse.
"And you, Ulfrik? Why you speak Irish and Alrik not?" Other than a few commands, and words related to trading, Alrik's grasp of the language seemed very limited.
"I guess I pay attention more than he does."
"What means, 'pay attention?'"
"To listen, to give focus to something. As you're doing now."
She nodded. "Ulfrik. What means 'trifle?'"
"Trifle?"
"Yes. 'Don't trifle with me, child.' It means lie?"
"In a way, I suppose." He looked out at the water. "Alrik said that to you?"
"Yes. I would not trifle." The accusation still smarted. "He thinks . . ." she trailed off, not knowing the correct Norse words, and finished in Irish. "He thought I was trying to trick him into marrying me."
Ulfrik did not seem surprised at this.
"You think I trifle?"
"No. And he married you anyway, didn't he?"
Selia was unconvinced. Her gaze wandered over to where her husband stood in conversation with several of his men. Alrik clapped a large hand on a man's shoulder, laughing, and her breath caught in her throat at the sudden flash of white teeth. It would be much easier to despise him if he wasn't so handsome.
She knew very little about her husband, but what she had learned so far was frightening. He was arrogant, moody; possessive. He had no respect for any opinion other than his own, and seemed to think of Selia as a prize or a plaything, not a person. Not a wife. And worst of all, he was a murderer-he had killed a priest in cold blood, without any apparent remorse, and laughed about it with his men.
Niall was a strict but gentle father who had protected her from the wickedness of men. Not even for a king's ransom would he have considered a man such as Alrik Ragnarson for his daughter. Why then, when she looked at her husband, did her body grow warm and her belly squirm with excitement? She had found pleasure in his touch this morning. She desired him even now.
That bothered her more than the rest of it, more than being taken from her family, more even than the murder of Father Coinneach. That was the worst; despite her knowledge of what kind of man Alrik was, she wanted him. What sort of wickedness must then reside in her own soul?
Her father and Eithne had been right to keep her secluded at home. There was something truly wrong with her.
Something perhaps out of her control.
Chapter 7
As the light changed and the shadow of the mast lengthened across the deck of the ship, Ulfrik informed Selia they would soon stop for the night. Her stomach had been rumbling with hunger for quite some time. But a moment later a shout arose from one of the men who pointed out to sea with excitement. There was another ship on the water.
The energy of the crew changed immediately as they all looked to Alrik in anticipation of his orders. His gaze scanned the ship for a moment. Apparently satisfied, he nodded, giving the order to pursue.
A fierce shout arose in unison from the men, a terrifying battle cry, and Selia cringed at the sound. Ulfrik turned to her, his cheeks as flushed with excitement as the rest of them. So he was capable of emotion after all.
"When we reach the ship, you must stay in your tent. Don't look out. Do you understand?"
She nodded, and he left her to join the others.
The men turned the sail to pursue the ship, then everyone threw open their sea chests to pull out their battle raiment. Most of the men donned only a simple leather helmet and a thick tunic that appeared to be padded. Alrik, Ulfrik, and Olaf, however, had metal helmets with eyeholes and a nose guard, as well as mail tunics.
Alrik turned to look
"That isn't a real language—Ainnileas and I made it up when we were children."
"What did he say to you?"
"Nothing." Selia gazed out at the horizon. She liked Ulfrik, but had again said too much. He seemed to have a way of drawing things out of her. "He said goodbye."
He scrutinized her as though he knew she was lying. She changed the subject, switching back to her stilted Norse.
"And you, Ulfrik? Why you speak Irish and Alrik not?" Other than a few commands, and words related to trading, Alrik's grasp of the language seemed very limited.
"I guess I pay attention more than he does."
"What means, 'pay attention?'"
"To listen, to give focus to something. As you're doing now."
She nodded. "Ulfrik. What means 'trifle?'"
"Trifle?"
"Yes. 'Don't trifle with me, child.' It means lie?"
"In a way, I suppose." He looked out at the water. "Alrik said that to you?"
"Yes. I would not trifle." The accusation still smarted. "He thinks . . ." she trailed off, not knowing the correct Norse words, and finished in Irish. "He thought I was trying to trick him into marrying me."
Ulfrik did not seem surprised at this.
"You think I trifle?"
"No. And he married you anyway, didn't he?"
Selia was unconvinced. Her gaze wandered over to where her husband stood in conversation with several of his men. Alrik clapped a large hand on a man's shoulder, laughing, and her breath caught in her throat at the sudden flash of white teeth. It would be much easier to despise him if he wasn't so handsome.
She knew very little about her husband, but what she had learned so far was frightening. He was arrogant, moody; possessive. He had no respect for any opinion other than his own, and seemed to think of Selia as a prize or a plaything, not a person. Not a wife. And worst of all, he was a murderer-he had killed a priest in cold blood, without any apparent remorse, and laughed about it with his men.
Niall was a strict but gentle father who had protected her from the wickedness of men. Not even for a king's ransom would he have considered a man such as Alrik Ragnarson for his daughter. Why then, when she looked at her husband, did her body grow warm and her belly squirm with excitement? She had found pleasure in his touch this morning. She desired him even now.
That bothered her more than the rest of it, more than being taken from her family, more even than the murder of Father Coinneach. That was the worst; despite her knowledge of what kind of man Alrik was, she wanted him. What sort of wickedness must then reside in her own soul?
Her father and Eithne had been right to keep her secluded at home. There was something truly wrong with her.
Something perhaps out of her control.
Chapter 7
As the light changed and the shadow of the mast lengthened across the deck of the ship, Ulfrik informed Selia they would soon stop for the night. Her stomach had been rumbling with hunger for quite some time. But a moment later a shout arose from one of the men who pointed out to sea with excitement. There was another ship on the water.
The energy of the crew changed immediately as they all looked to Alrik in anticipation of his orders. His gaze scanned the ship for a moment. Apparently satisfied, he nodded, giving the order to pursue.
A fierce shout arose in unison from the men, a terrifying battle cry, and Selia cringed at the sound. Ulfrik turned to her, his cheeks as flushed with excitement as the rest of them. So he was capable of emotion after all.
"When we reach the ship, you must stay in your tent. Don't look out. Do you understand?"
She nodded, and he left her to join the others.
The men turned the sail to pursue the ship, then everyone threw open their sea chests to pull out their battle raiment. Most of the men donned only a simple leather helmet and a thick tunic that appeared to be padded. Alrik, Ulfrik, and Olaf, however, had metal helmets with eyeholes and a nose guard, as well as mail tunics.
Alrik turned to look
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