Odin's Shadow (Sons Of Odin Book 1) (9th Century Viking Romance) (25 page)

With her heart pounding in her ears, she moved to the other side of Ainnileas and stared at the ground.

She felt Ulfrik's gaze on her but she couldn't bring herself to look at him. Why had Alrik put her in this awful position? She wiped her sweaty palms on her gown, and willed her heart to calm. It felt as though it would beat out of her chest.

"Selia." Ainnileas' voice suddenly sounded very far away. He seemed surrounded by a hazy light that hurt her eyes.

"Are you all right?" Ulfrik asked. He also seemed bathed in the light and she had to squint to see him. His mouth moved in a slower time than the words he spoke, their tone jumbled, distorted.

No . . . not here.
She must hide from all these people. The house was so far away; it would be impossible to make it there in time. Where could she go?

A sickening whoosh of fetid air rushed past her head. It sounded as though scores of birds cawed above the crowd. She ducked to avoid one as it flew at her face. How could she possibly protect her brother from all those birds?

Selia reached out for him. "Close your eyes," she managed to choke out.

Then she was moving, being pulled through the crowd. She looked down at her feet. Were they hers or someone else's? A large, male hand held on to hers. Not her brother’s, as he was hurrying along on the other side of her, a grim look to his face.

His mouth moved as he spoke, but she couldn’t hear him above the cawing of the birds.

Alrik made his way down to the shore. Selia was typically easy to spot—her dark curls stood out among the sea of blonds and redheads—but she was nowhere to be found. He had specifically told her to stay where he could see her, yet she had wandered off again. Why did she insist on disobeying him?

He approached Ingrid, who was in conversation with one of Hrefna's granddaughters, the plain one whose name he could never remember. "Have you seen Selia?" He ground his teeth at Ingrid, daring her to point out how he had no control over his own wife.

She looked at him with barely masked hostility. "She went into the woods with her brother and Ulfrik. Ainnileas said she was sick." She shook her head in disgust. "I don't know why she needed his help to vomit."

Alrik stilled as the images rushed into his head, the images that would take over his mind if he didn't make a conscious effort to block them out. Ulfrik. Touching Selia.
Inside
her. Had they planned this all along, as they whispered and laughed on the ship-to wait until his guard was down, and then run off together? Were they laughing at him right now?

Or had his traitorous brother told Selia and Ainnileas the unthinkable, and they now plotted their revenge against him?

His field of vision went dark for a moment. He saw his own hand plunge a dagger into Ulfrik's belly, gutting him like a deer as his brother's hot blood spilled into the dirt. Ulfrik's eyes, scared, cowardly, as the life drained from his body and Selia screamed.

Alrik would make her watch her lover die.

It was all he could do to string words into a coherent sentence. "You're sure Ulfrik was with them?"

Ingrid smiled. "Of course I'm sure. He was pulling your wife along by the hand."

Chapter 32

Ainnileas leaned over his sister, stroking her hair. "It's all right, Selia . . . it's all right." He knew his voice rarely registered in her mind when she was under a spell, but it somehow made him feel better to speak to her. And as he had done more times than he could remember, he murmured his comforting words in the language they had made up together as children.

As accustomed as he was to his sister's spells, they still raised his hackles. How could they not? Selia's eyes would stare into nothingness and she would spout horrible things that made his blood run cold. She called the spells 'bird spells,' which had always brought to mind a large black bird with its talons wrapped around her. An evil creature that stalked her from the shadows, waiting for its next opportunity to tear her to shreds.

And there was nothing he could do to stop the spell as it overtook her. Ainnileas could not protect his sister from the cruel darkness of her mind.

Selia spoke only nonsense when she was under the grip of a spell; confusing, chaotic ramblings he assumed was the legacy of their lives before the time of Niall. She would speak of blood and smoke and pain. Sometimes she would look directly at him, eyes wild and dark, as she warned him to run from a bad man, or from the birds she was convinced wanted to peck his eyes out.

But it was when she called for their mother that his throat would constrict with unshed tears. He could feel his sister's despair as clearly as if it were happening to him.

Selia's voice began to rise as it sometimes did during a spell, and he tried to hush her. Although Ulfrik had assured him that he knew about her spells and did not think badly of her for it, Ainnileas wasn't sure how the rest of the Finngalls at the gathering would react if they stumbled upon this strange scene in the woods.

"Cassan." Selia's wide eyes stared through him. "Run. Run away . . ."

He shushed her, but Ulfrik perked up from where he was leaning against a tree. "What is she saying?" he asked. "She told me you were the only one who could understand her when she was like this."

Ainnileas hesitated. He trusted the man, to be sure, but he had never shared the details of his sister’s spells with anyone, not even Niall. Before he could answer, Selia cried out again.

"Cassan, run! He has a knife!"

Ulfrik knelt next to him. "What is 'Cassan?’"

Ainnileas chewed on his lip. He knew his sister had shared with Ulfrik how they had been foundlings. "Cassan is what she calls me when she's under a spell. It must have been my name. Before."

"How could she remember—"

Ulfrik was interrupted by Selia's piercing scream as her wild eyes landed on him. "No! Stay away from him!" She lunged at him, swinging at his face, and he had to hold her wrists to stop the blows. She struggled and screamed even louder.

Ainnileas' jaw dropped. She had
seen
Ulfrik. She typically lost herself to such a degree that she didn't interact with anyone, even Ainnileas; but somehow Ulfrik had triggered a reaction in her. His sister’s terror crept over him, cold and desperate. It was hard to separate her emotions from his own when they were felt with such intensity.

He shook his head firmly as Ulfrik tried to pull her away from him. "She's trying to protect me from you. You should go. You're making it worse."

There was a noise behind them, and they both turned as Alrik crashed through the trees. His face contorted with rage as he saw Ulfrik holding on to Selia. His eyes burned into his brother’s and his fingers twitched around the hilt of his sword. "Get your hands off my wife," he snarled. "Do you think she is some thrall you can rut with when my back is turned?"

Ulfrik leapt into a defensive position, keeping his eyes on Alrik's sword hand. Naked save for his wet breeches, he didn't have so much as a dagger with him. He would be completely vulnerable if his brother chose to attack.

"Would you rather I had let this happen with a hundred people to witness?" He motioned toward Selia.

"Better than a hundred people witnessing you pull my wife into the woods," Alrik sneered. "Just how am I supposed to explain that?"

Ulfrik gave his brother a thin, almost taunting smile. "I don’t know, Alrik. Use your imagination."

Alrik cried out in rage as he pulled his sword from its scabbard. Ainnileas stood in front of Selia, blocking her with his body, as the Finngalls circled each other.

"I'm unarmed," Ulfrik said. His eyes were a bright, glittering blue. Ainnileas could see no fear on his face, only a strange sort of defiant anticipation. "Will you dishonor yourself by killing an unarmed man?"

Alrik laughed. He threw his sword to the ground, then unfastened his dagger from his belt and tossed it on top of the sword. "I don't need a weapon to kill a little thrall bastard like you."

Ainnileas heard a sound from his sister behind him, and turned to find her looking around the forest in confusion. She gasped as her gaze landed on the two Finngalls, and Ainnileas pulled her behind the log she had been sitting on. She was so disoriented she barely struggled.

Alrik leapt toward his brother, taking a swing at him, and Ulfrik ducked. Alrik sprang up again with an explosive uppercut that landed squarely under Ulfrik's jaw, causing him to stumble backward. He took advantage of his brother’s momentary lack of balance and lunged for him in an attempt to knock him to the ground.

Ulfrik, however, brought his right knee up as he fell, and as Alrik landed on him the knee jabbed into his wounded left side. Alrik made a horrible noise, like a dying animal. His face turned chalk white as his body sagged onto that of his brother.

Selia screamed, struggling to rise, but Ainnileas restrained her. She fought him to no avail, weakened from her spell. He held her behind the log without much effort.

The brothers rolled in the dirt, cursing and beating each other. Alrik appeared to be in a good deal of pain from his wound, and a rapidly-spreading dark spot had bloomed on his shirt. Ulfrik had the advantage now. He rolled on top of his brother, wrapping his hands around his throat.

Selia screamed, begging them to stop, and Ainnileas clapped a hand over her mouth. In a few more moments that Finngall bastard would be dead and this entire nightmare would be over. His sister would be safe. They could go home.

But Selia sank her teeth into his hand, and as he drew back she elbowed him in the gut. Ainnileas doubled over in pain. She jumped over the log, trying to shove Ulfrik off her husband.

"Stop," she begged in Irish. "You're going to kill him!"

Ulfrik's face appeared demented, and she stumbled backward as he stared up at her. "I'm doing you a favor, Selia," he ground out.

Alrik's own face was purple. His eyes bulged from his head as he clawed at his brother’s hands in a desperate attempt to breathe. He looked as though he only had seconds left.

Selia ran to the pile of weapons on the ground, grabbing the dagger. Ainnileas gasped. What was she doing?

"Selia, no!" he shouted, but she ignored him. She caught hold of Ulfrik's hair to jerk his head back. As she pressed the dagger to his throat, his surprised eyes rolled in her direction.

"Let go of him, Ulfrik." She spoke in a hard, threatening voice that Ainnileas had never heard before.

"You would kill me? He's a monster—"

"
Let go!"

Ulfrik slowly removed his hands from his brother's throat. "You have no idea who you married," he spat. "If you did, you would have thanked me."

Coughing, Alrik sat up with a hand to his throat. He couldn’t have understood the heated exchange in Irish between his wife and his brother, but he looked back and forth between them with smoldering rage. "I want you gone, Ulfrik. Out of my house," he rasped. "If I ever see you again the ravens will glut on your flesh."

Ulfrik's voice held bitterness. "As long as I have your permission to leave, Hersir."

"Oh, you have it, Oath Breaker."

He gave Alrik a curt nod and stood. "I'll be gone tonight, then."

Ulfrik walked away without a second glance.

Ainnileas was still standing behind the log, and hesitated as his eyes followed Ulfrik. "I cannot believe you did that," he whispered to Selia.

She turned, still clutching the dagger. She appeared crazed. "You need to leave too, Ainnileas! Go with him until your ship returns for you."

He gaped. "Selia-"

"No!" she cried. "I can't even look at you right now. When will you understand that Alrik is my husband? The father of my child? Whatever hatred you have for him matters nothing to me. If you are so willing to watch him die, then you have no business being a guest in his house. Go, now."

Ainnileas stared at her-his sister, his twin. How could she push him away after everything he had tried to do for her? He had crossed an ocean to save her, yet she would choose this wicked Finngall over her own brother.

Selia was beyond help now. There was nothing he could do.

"I do understand," he called over his shoulder as he walked away. "I understand that you're a fool."

“Alrik,” Selia choked out. She dropped the dagger and knelt beside him. “You are bleeding.”

He pushed her hand away as she reached toward him. “Don’t touch me.”

“Alrik, please—”

He rose, his face blistering with fury, snatched his dagger and sword from the ground, and stalked away without another word.

Selia remained in the woods for a long time. She cried until she had no tears left, then she stared into space, unable to move. It was all she could do to make herself breathe. How had everything gone so wrong? Not only had she nearly killed Ulfrik and completely alienated her own brother, but somehow, even after saving Alrik's life, he still despised her.

He would surely divorce her after this. He had been uncomfortable about her spells already, but as he stalked away he had made it very clear he wanted nothing more to do with her. And just because she couldn't divorce
him,
it didn't mean he couldn't divorce
her.
The Christian rule against divorce wouldn't have any power over a Finngall Hersir.

It was over; her life was finished. She couldn't live without Alrik any more than a body could live without its heart. She would lie here in the woods and wait for death to come for her. She rubbed her hand across her abdomen.
Poor little child, to never have a chance to be born.
Her own soul was damned to eternal fire already, but what would happen to the babe? Would God take pity on her unborn, or would it burn along with its mother? A wail escaped her and she buried her face in her hands.

There was a rustle of leaves, and she jumped as she felt an arm go around her.
Hrefna
. Alrik’s aunt pulled her against her bosom as Selia burst into fresh sobs.

"Shhh, child." Hrefna rocked her like she would one of her grandchildren. "Where did he hurt you?"

Selia was crying so hard she could barely speak. "He . . . didn't . . . hurt me," she managed to choke out.

Hrefna leaned back to look at her. "Well, what happened then? Alrik's bleeding, Ulfrik's bleeding, and you're crying." She paused for a moment. "Did Ulfrik try to—” She gestured mutely.

"No!" How could Hrefna think such a thing? "But everyone hates me now. Even Ainnileas," she sniffled. "Alrik will divorce me, Hrefna. I'll die without him."

The woman took her by the shoulders. "Stop, child. You're getting worked up over nothing. I learned many years ago that no matter how angry Alrik gets, it will fade. Whatever happened between you two will be nothing by tomorrow, mark my words."

Selia shook her head. "No, he hates me." Her voice trailed off to a whisper. "I am full of dark magic."

Hrefna's lips twitched as if to force back a laugh. "My dear, I don't think I've ever met anyone
less
full of dark magic than you."

Selia averted her gaze. If Hrefna wasn't going to take her seriously, then she would rather be left alone.

But Hrefna grasped Selia by the chin and looked into her face thoughtfully. "Does this have something to do with how your eyes glaze over?" she asked. At Selia’s gasp, she smiled gently. "You and I spend the entire day together, Selia. No one 'daydreams' that much."

What must Hrefna think of her? "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"What is there to be sorry for? You cannot help it any more than you can help this," she said, her fingers parting Selia's hair to carefully press the divot in her skull.

She stared at the woman uncomprehendingly. What was she talking about?

Hrefna raised her eyebrows. "You have no idea, do you?"

"No idea of what?"

"Oh, my poor child. All this time." Hrefna stroked Selia's hair. "My brother suffered from a similar condition to yours when we were children, after he fell from a tree and struck his head. For years his eyes would sometimes glaze over, like yours do. Sometimes his body would thrash about. I was terrified every time that happened."

Selia’s breath caught in her throat. "It was because he hurt his head?"

"Yes. I have even heard of men coming back from battle with the same symptoms after a grievous head injury."

Selia began to shake, and she wrapped her arms around her knees, holding on. Could it be-could it
possibly
be-that her spells were the simple result of whatever had caused the dent in her skull? Not a punishment from God, or a sign that wickedness dwelled inside her. For her entire life she had lived in shame of her secret. Could everything she had been lead to believe be wrong, a mistake?

Her throat was so dry she could barely speak. "Hrefna, sometimes . . . I see things that are not there, and
smell
things that are not there. Could that also be from this?" she asked, touching her head.

The woman shrugged. "My brother said he would see a strange light just before his muscles began to twitch. It was how he knew it was about to happen."

Selia clapped a hand over her mouth and began to sob. Her body was wracked with a strange combination of fury and relief, and she could neither speak nor think coherently for quite some time. Hrefna held her until her sobs quieted.

Spent, she lay against Hrefna’s shoulder. She felt empty, almost weightless; as though she could drift off into the heavens if she wasn't careful.