Odin's Shadow (Sons Of Odin Book 1) (9th Century Viking Romance) (24 page)

Chapter 31

Hrefna worked her way through the noisy crowd of the gathering toward Selia, carrying Kolgrima's youngest daughter, Signy, on her hip. The babe was gnawing on a drool-soaked wooden ring as Hrefna stopped in front of her.

"Take her for a moment, while I check on the food," she said, handing her over.

The tot gave Selia a confused expression, and Hrefna laughed. "It will give you some practice."

Selia stared at the babe. What was she expected to do with her? She was ashamed to admit she knew next to nothing about children, having had neither younger siblings nor cousins growing up. She had shared this concern with Hrefna, that she feared she might accidentally damage her own babe somehow, after it was born. Infant heads were so wobbly and their skulls so fragile. Wasn't her own skull proof of that?

Hence the practice with Signy, a healthy, chubby child so thick with padding she looked as though she would bounce if Selia dropped her.

Weaving her way through the crowd of mostly women and children, she walked toward the docks where the men were gathered to watch the swimming races. Although Ainnileas was unable to participate in most of the Finngall contests-sword sparring, archery, and wrestling not being among his talents-he was a very good swimmer, and had surprised her by agreeing to join in the races.

She was out of breath by the time she reached the docks, and she shifted the heavy babe to her other hip. Surely the child's mother would want her back soon—if Signy's weight were any indication, she was a frequent feeder. She scanned the crowd, searching for the flame-haired woman who looked like a younger version of Hrefna, to no avail. Selia was stuck with the child.

The race had already started but the swimmers were too far away for her to see where Ainnileas was. She could make out a dozen heads bobbing in the sea, but from this distance she couldn't pick out his dark hair.

The babe made a fussing sound, and Selia jiggled her the way she had seen other women do. But the fussing intensified, and several of the men standing on the shore turned, looking annoyed. When they saw it was the Hersir's wife, they hid their scowls.

She made a face at one of their broad backs. "They hate me already, and you're not helping," she whispered to the red-faced tot as she bounced her up and down on her hip.

Signy only cried louder.

"That babe is as big as you are," Alrik chuckled behind her. She turned to find him walking toward her with barely a limp. It was amazing that a man who had been on his deathbed merely days ago could look as he did now, the very picture of health. The red shirt and brown breeches she had made for him fit nicely, just snug enough to show off his powerful form, and she smiled as she took in the sight of him.

He had been in a fine mood since the men had arrived, especially considering he was under strict orders from his aunt not to participate in any of the games. Although his side was healing well, a bloody fluid would leak from the wound whenever he strained himself. Hrefna had threatened to have him tied to the bed if he even contemplated joining in the festivities.

Alrik had given her a look that said he would like to see her try, but so far he had followed her instructions. And although his men seemed worried about his wound, they joked of how his incapacitation was in their favor as it meant someone else would actually have a chance to win at the games. This seemed to please Alrik a great deal. It was difficult to tell if his current good spirits were due to the well-wishes of his men, or simply a result of one of his random mood swings.

"Where did you wander off to a moment ago?" he asked Selia, squinting at the heads bobbing in the water. "I turned and you were gone."

She glanced up at him, trying to judge his intent. He had been more watchful of her than usual since the crowd had arrived. "I had to use the privy," she explained, "but there was a line, so I went into the woods."

He faced her, now unsmiling. "You either need to stay where I can see you or tell me where you're going."

Was he still under the assumption she would run away the first chance she got? Hadn't they moved past that? The babe fussed and Selia shifted her to her other hip. "Why do you not trust me, Alrik?"

Signy screeched, swinging her dimpled arms wildly, and threw her wooden ring into the dirt. Alrik scooped the child out of her arms. "I trust
you,
Selia," he said, lifting Signy over his head. "But I don't necessarily trust every man here."

The startled Signy stopped crying and stared down at Alrik for several moments. He smiled, lowering her almost to his face, then quickly back up again. The tiny girl laughed. She opened her mouth in a wide, toothless grin, and tried to grab his nose.

Selia blinked at them. The idea of the Hersir playing with a babe was contrary to everything she knew about him. He was the most fiercely masculine man she had ever met, scornful of anything he perceived as weak or womanish. Yet here he was, being kind to an infant. How could a man who was an admitted butcher of the innocent now hold this child with such gentleness? Just when she thought she understood him, he seemed to do something completely unexpected.

He shifted Signy to his right hip. Her eyes lit up as she spotted the hilt of the sword he had insisted on wearing, despite Hrefna's protests. Signy leaned toward his left side, reaching for it, and Alrik winced but didn't discourage her. "You little Valkyrie—if you were a boy I would start your training immediately."

Signy took hold of the sword's hilt in her chubby hands, pulling herself toward it with her mouth opened wide. Selia looked away. How many children had Alrik killed with that very sword? And how many more, currently safe and warm in their mothers' womb or suckling at their breast, were destined to die by his hand during some future raid on her homeland?

Shivering, she firmly shut the door on those thoughts. She had to be more vigilant or she would give herself nightmares again.

"There she is," Kolgrima called, striding up behind them. Signy squealed with delight and reached for her mother. Alrik handed her over. Kolgrima was several years older than Alrik and a grandmother herself, yet she was still a remarkably beautiful woman.

"My father is looking for you," she said to Alrik. "Two of the boys are arguing over Rannveig Ingjaldsdottir."

Frowning, he followed Kolgrima back through the crowd in search of Olaf. He gave Selia a pointed look over his shoulder that made it clear she was expected to be there when he returned.

She turned back to watch the races. What had he meant when he said he didn't trust every man here? True, not all of them were his own men. Some were the sons or foster children of the members of his war band, not yet ready or willing to be sworn themselves. Some were distant relatives, either by blood or marriage. And a good many were thralls, since every family had brought several slaves along with them to help shoulder the work. But every man at the gathering, whether sworn to Alrik or not, understood very well who the Hersir's wife was. They knew better than to even glance in her direction. Skagi's face was a constant reminder to everyone of how unstable Alrik was when it came to his wife.

Unless his comment was in regard to someone else.

Could he be referring to Ulfrik? Or, heaven forbid, Ainnileas? Had Alrik learned of her brother’s mad plan for her escape, and his own brother’s willingness to help get Selia out of Norway?

Or perhaps he didn't
know
, but nevertheless believed something was off about Ulfrik's behavior. Alrik knew his brother just as well as Selia knew Ainnileas, and might therefore have a sense of what he was contemplating. That could account for Alrik's outburst of jealous anger several nights ago.

Shouting erupted from some of the men in front of Selia, and a general sense of anticipation that indicated the race was coming to a finish. She ducked through the men, scanning the bay for Ainnileas.

The race had taken the swimmers across the bay to the fjord opposite the farmstead, then back again, and now they were more than halfway to the dock. Her heart leapt as she saw a dark head among the lighter ones, toward the front. She clasped her hands together, restraining herself from calling to him in encouragement, unsure if the Finngalls would consider it rude to cheer for a foreigner.

Apparently Ingrid did not share Selia's concerns, for her voice could be heard shouting above the general din of the crowd. "Hurry, Ainnileas!"

Peering around one man's fat belly, she saw her stepdaughter some distance away, standing with one of Kolgrima's daughters. Bergdis had also fallen in love with Selia’s handsome brother on sight, and had been trailing him around like a large puppy since her family's arrival at the gathering. But rather than being jealous, Ingrid seemed confident Ainnileas' affections wouldn't be compromised. In addition to being stout and quite plain, her cousin had a lazy eye that would occasionally wander away to focus on something else while she was talking. It seemed to make Ainnileas uneasy.

Selia chewed at her lip as she took in Ingrid's careful attention to her appearance. Before Ainnileas had arrived, her hair looked as though it hadn't been washed or combed in ages. Indeed, the girl screamed if her aunt even approached her with a comb and a look of determination. Now her hair hung clean and shiny down her back in a glittering wave of pale silk. Hrefna had made a new gown for her, of a bright blue that matched her eyes, and it was fitted snugly to highlight her figure. A woman's gown, not a child's. Her white skin was scrubbed clean, and her red cheeks and lips were bursting with youthful good health.

Ingrid
was
beautiful, every bit as beautiful as her father, and when she smiled or laughed all eyes turned to her. Hrefna and Alrik's fear that no one would want to marry the girl seemed groundless. If the admiring glances she was getting from the male Finngalls were any indication, she would have several marriage proposals before the gathering was over.

But Ingrid had eyes only for Ainnileas, and he for her. At first Selia had convinced herself that her brother was using Ingrid for some warped reason, but lately she had come to the sickening realization his feelings for the girl were genuine. Whether she liked it or not, her horrid stepdaughter might someday soon become her brother’s horrid wife.

The swimmers were coming closer now, and Selia cheered her brother on as they neared the shore. It was a close race, with three or four swimmers within a few strokes of each other, the rest some distance behind them. It looked as though Ainnileas might not win, but his position in the race, toward the front, was encouraging.

The first swimmer to pull himself from the water was Ulfrik. The crowd broke into cheers and whistles as he leaned over with his hands on his knees, gasping for breath. Like all the swimmers he wore only his breeches, and seawater streamed down from his hair and over his torso. Once, she would have gone to him without hesitation to offer her congratulations, but now she stood planted to the ground and pretended not to see him when he tried to make eye contact with her. If her avoidance of him hurt his feelings, she knew he wouldn't show it.

Two swimmers emerged next; a young man married to one of the daughters of Alrik's men, and Ainnileas. Selia ran to her brother to give him a hug, wiping cold droplets of water from her cheek with a laugh. "You did it, Ainnileas!"

He shrugged as he tried to catch his breath. "I suppose third place is acceptable." He wasn't looking at his sister, but instead seemed to be focused on something over her shoulder.

Selia cringed as she turned to see Ingrid and Bergdis coming toward them.

Ingrid squeezed his arm. "You did wonderfully, Ainnileas." She left her hand on him just a second too long, and he met the girl's eyes with a knowing smile.

Selia stared at them. The look Ingrid had just exchanged with her brother was familiar, one she had probably given Alrik many times, and he to her. It was a look of desire, full of promise and expectation. If Ingrid and Ainnileas weren't already bedding each other, they would soon enough.

Ulfrik strode over, clapping her brother on the back, and Ainnileas grinned up at him. Their camaraderie seemed genuine as well. Selia shifted uncomfortably. That natural, easy friendship would never be possible again for her and Ulfrik.

She meant to congratulate Ulfrik politely before moving on, but instead found herself staring at him, unable to look away. She had never seen him without a shirt on, at least not up close and in broad daylight, and she now gaped at the sight of dozens of scars on his body. They looked like slash marks of varying lengths, most of them old and faded.

One though, a large and ragged scar, appeared to be the remnant of a wound that had gone completely through his shoulder and out his back. "Ulfrik," she gasped, "what happened to you?" Without thinking, she reached up to touch his shoulder, running her fingers over the thickened, silvery scar.

He met her gaze and Selia dropped her hand. "That one was from a boar attack when I was twelve."

She shuddered. It looked as though the wound had been much worse than Alrik's. So that was what Hrefna had meant about Alrik nearly getting his brother killed the last time they had hunted boar.

"And the rest." She nodded to his torso. "They are from battle?"

"Some. But they're mostly from sparring with Alrik. I didn't have a mail shirt when we were children."

A vision arose in her mind of Ulfrik as a small child, holding a shield in front of himself as his brother attacked. Why hadn't someone stopped it-Hrefna or Olaf, or Geirr, the boys' grandfather? Surely they could see the damage being done.

Selia's voice shook. "They should not have let him hurt you like that."

Ulfrik looked down at her with eyes that seemed accustomed to hiding pain. He finally spoke to her in Irish. "If Alrik doesn't hurt me, he'll hurt someone else. They knew it then and they know it now."

The truth of his words couldn’t diffuse her anger at him being used in such a manner.

But before she could respond, his gaze flickered away at something over her head.

"He's coming, Selia." Ulfrik's voice held a warning note. Had he guessed the reason for her recent evasive behavior, or had the Hersir ordered him to stay away from his wife as well?

She blanched as she turned to see Alrik striding down the hill through the throng of people, his height making him easily visible in the crowd. She could not let him see her speaking with his brother. Ulfrik was half naked, and she stood much too close to him in an attempt to hear him over the din of conversations around them.