Odin's Shadow (Sons Of Odin Book 1) (9th Century Viking Romance) by Erin S. Riley
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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story of what had happened after leaving Niall's house. Selia recognized him as the eldest of the three Finngalls who had been with Alrik and Ulfrik when they had taken her. Those three were the last to see her family.
She turned to Ulfrik and studied him for a moment until he looked down at her. He seemed kind enough, knocking her to the ground notwithstanding. And he spoke Irish.
"I'm sorry I hit you," she said.
He rubbed his jaw with a wry smile. "So am I."
She smiled back at him. "Will you ask that man if my family is all right?"
Ulfrik motioned her to a spot away from the group of men. Selia sat with Alrik's cloak wrapped around her against the night air while she waited for his brother to return. The ale was making a warm spot in her belly and she began to feel drowsy.
Ulfrik returned and sat down next to her with his own cup of ale. He took a long drink before speaking to her. "They are unharmed."
Selia sighed in relief. "Thank you."
Ulfrik nodded and they both watched Alrik regale the men with the tale of Selia's capture and the visit to the priest. She looked away as he described Father Coinneach's ghastly death throes. Shouting and cheers erupted from the men, and Selia shuddered.
"He'll be congratulating himself all night," Ulfrik muttered under his breath.
Selia didn't understand the Norse word 'congratulating.' “What do you mean?”
By his reaction it was clear he hadn't meant for Selia to hear him. After a brief hesitation he replied, “I don’t know the Irish word.” Ulfrik glanced over at the group of men to be sure he wasn't being observed, then mimicked Alrik, puffing his chest out and patting himself on the back.
Selia giggled as she watched him. She suddenly missed Ainnileas very much. It was something he would do, and Ulfrik's playacting was a harsh reminder that she would never see her brother again. Her laugh turned into a stifled sob and Ulfrik stopped.
"What is it?" he asked in Irish.
"I miss my brother. You . . . you are like him, a bit."
"You are twins, are you not?"
Selia nodded as she drained her cup. She hadn't eaten all day and the strong ale was going to her head.
Ulfrik paused again. He seemed to be the sort of person who thought things through very carefully before speaking. "What did your father mean when he called you the 'daughter of his heart?'"
“He’s not my real father,” Selia explained. Her own heart contracted at the thought of the man she called ‘ Dadai .’ She would never see him again. “My brother and I were orphaned when we were very young. Niall found us wandering in the woods, and he took us in.”
Ulfrik's face remained expressionless. “How old were you when Niall found you?”
Selia shook her head. “About two years old, he believed.”
The firelight flickered in Ulfrik’s eyes. Selia hesitated when she saw the muscle in his jaw tighten.
Why had she told him so much? Tipsy or not, she had to be more careful. This man—no matter how kind he seemed—was Alrik's brother. His loyalties would lie with him. Alrik had paid an absurdly large bride price for her, with the expectation of obtaining the daughter of a merchant, not of an Irish peasant.
"Will Alrik be angry that Niall is not my real father?"
Ulfrik’s face was unreadable. "You might not want to tell him."
Selia swallowed. Yet another secret to keep from her new husband. She and Ulfrik sat in silence for a moment, watching the drama unfold across the fire.
She turned back to him. "Who is Ingrid?"
"Ingrid is Alrik's daughter," he replied, draining the remains of his ale.
Chapter 5
Selia woke just before dawn. Unaccustomed to sleeping outside on the cold ground, her night had been restless. She had been acutely aware of Alrik's large body pressed next to hers. He slept on his side with one arm pillowed under his head and the other thrown across Selia's body, the red cloak covering them both. She peeked at him to make sure he was still asleep.
Relaxed in slumber, there was a
She turned to Ulfrik and studied him for a moment until he looked down at her. He seemed kind enough, knocking her to the ground notwithstanding. And he spoke Irish.
"I'm sorry I hit you," she said.
He rubbed his jaw with a wry smile. "So am I."
She smiled back at him. "Will you ask that man if my family is all right?"
Ulfrik motioned her to a spot away from the group of men. Selia sat with Alrik's cloak wrapped around her against the night air while she waited for his brother to return. The ale was making a warm spot in her belly and she began to feel drowsy.
Ulfrik returned and sat down next to her with his own cup of ale. He took a long drink before speaking to her. "They are unharmed."
Selia sighed in relief. "Thank you."
Ulfrik nodded and they both watched Alrik regale the men with the tale of Selia's capture and the visit to the priest. She looked away as he described Father Coinneach's ghastly death throes. Shouting and cheers erupted from the men, and Selia shuddered.
"He'll be congratulating himself all night," Ulfrik muttered under his breath.
Selia didn't understand the Norse word 'congratulating.' “What do you mean?”
By his reaction it was clear he hadn't meant for Selia to hear him. After a brief hesitation he replied, “I don’t know the Irish word.” Ulfrik glanced over at the group of men to be sure he wasn't being observed, then mimicked Alrik, puffing his chest out and patting himself on the back.
Selia giggled as she watched him. She suddenly missed Ainnileas very much. It was something he would do, and Ulfrik's playacting was a harsh reminder that she would never see her brother again. Her laugh turned into a stifled sob and Ulfrik stopped.
"What is it?" he asked in Irish.
"I miss my brother. You . . . you are like him, a bit."
"You are twins, are you not?"
Selia nodded as she drained her cup. She hadn't eaten all day and the strong ale was going to her head.
Ulfrik paused again. He seemed to be the sort of person who thought things through very carefully before speaking. "What did your father mean when he called you the 'daughter of his heart?'"
“He’s not my real father,” Selia explained. Her own heart contracted at the thought of the man she called ‘ Dadai .’ She would never see him again. “My brother and I were orphaned when we were very young. Niall found us wandering in the woods, and he took us in.”
Ulfrik's face remained expressionless. “How old were you when Niall found you?”
Selia shook her head. “About two years old, he believed.”
The firelight flickered in Ulfrik’s eyes. Selia hesitated when she saw the muscle in his jaw tighten.
Why had she told him so much? Tipsy or not, she had to be more careful. This man—no matter how kind he seemed—was Alrik's brother. His loyalties would lie with him. Alrik had paid an absurdly large bride price for her, with the expectation of obtaining the daughter of a merchant, not of an Irish peasant.
"Will Alrik be angry that Niall is not my real father?"
Ulfrik’s face was unreadable. "You might not want to tell him."
Selia swallowed. Yet another secret to keep from her new husband. She and Ulfrik sat in silence for a moment, watching the drama unfold across the fire.
She turned back to him. "Who is Ingrid?"
"Ingrid is Alrik's daughter," he replied, draining the remains of his ale.
Chapter 5
Selia woke just before dawn. Unaccustomed to sleeping outside on the cold ground, her night had been restless. She had been acutely aware of Alrik's large body pressed next to hers. He slept on his side with one arm pillowed under his head and the other thrown across Selia's body, the red cloak covering them both. She peeked at him to make sure he was still asleep.
Relaxed in slumber, there was a
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