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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questionable character and low morals, she could still care for a man such as Alrik Ragnarson. That, she couldn't live with.
Selia moved quickly, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She slipped out from under Alrik's arm, ready with a story about needing to empty her bladder if he stirred. He didn't. She gazed down at him one last time, then crept away and didn't look back.
She began to run as soon as she got to the tree line. Not aimlessly—she had to be clever if she had any hope of eluding him. Instead of heading down the coastline, toward home, she instead traversed inland. The dragonships were built shallowly to forge through rivers and streams where deeper, heavier boats couldn't venture. This gave the Finngalls the ability to attack villages further inland than the coast, villages caught completely unaware. Selia would move away from the coastline, staying clear of any body of water large enough to allow passage of a longship.
Alrik had sold the horses to make more room on the ship for the wine, so if they came inland to follow her, it would have to be on foot.
She would sell her beautiful cloak at the first village she found, then buy clothing and food. But she would wear boy's clothing, and she would cut her hair. Selia knew she could pass for a boy; she could easily model Ainnileas' walk and mannerisms. It would be safer to travel as a boy, and her disguise would help throw the Finngalls off her trail. With any luck she would make it home without a second glance from anyone.
Home . Would her father take her back, ruined as she was? She was the wife of a Finngall. The marriage had been consummated. Only death—either hers or Alrik's—could set her free.
And was it even safe to go home? Would he be waiting there for her, ready to carry her off again, or—more likely—kill her for defying him? No, if she were to stay alive, she would need to outsmart him. Go as deep inland as possible, and look for somewhere safe to hide. She could find work, keep to herself, and eventually send word to her family. How long this would take, Selia didn't allow herself to contemplate.
The day dawned cold and rainy. Exhausted and soaked to the bone, still she kept moving. The men always rose early. Alrik would be awake by now, looking for her. The thought of his big hands wrapped around her neck gave her the boost of fear she needed to press on.
How long had she been running? Two hours, maybe three? Her legs were so tired. Rain dripped in her eyes, and she had already fallen twice. But Selia pushed on blindly, keeping the diffuse light of the rising sun to her back, always running west.
She lost her footing again, stumbled, and landed on the edge of an embankment. She slipped in the mud as she tried to rise, then slid even further. Her arms flailed, grasping for roots or branches, but everything she managed to clutch on to slipped free from the wet soil. She dug her toes into the mud in an attempt to stop sliding.
Suddenly the earth gave way beneath her feet. For a few confusing seconds, her body rolled and gained momentum.
Then, blackness.
Ulfrik had rarely seen his brother so angry. He seemed to be lit from the inside with it. But it wasn't a blind rage as it had been last night; this had a clarity and focus that Alrik's anger usually lacked. So when the men split up to look for Selia, Ulfrik made sure to go with his brother. None of the men would be disappointed to see the Hersir snap his new wife's neck and be done with it.
If she hadn't gotten in between them last night, the situation with Skagi would never have happened. Ulfrik knew if his brother’s anger continued to build unchecked, someone would end up hurt. But if provided with an intense physical release early enough, Alrik’s fury could be diffused.
A few more minutes of sparring last night would have been enough to calm him, but Selia had jumped in. The embarrassment of his wife leaping to his brother's defense would have been enough to fan the flames of
Selia moved quickly, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She slipped out from under Alrik's arm, ready with a story about needing to empty her bladder if he stirred. He didn't. She gazed down at him one last time, then crept away and didn't look back.
She began to run as soon as she got to the tree line. Not aimlessly—she had to be clever if she had any hope of eluding him. Instead of heading down the coastline, toward home, she instead traversed inland. The dragonships were built shallowly to forge through rivers and streams where deeper, heavier boats couldn't venture. This gave the Finngalls the ability to attack villages further inland than the coast, villages caught completely unaware. Selia would move away from the coastline, staying clear of any body of water large enough to allow passage of a longship.
Alrik had sold the horses to make more room on the ship for the wine, so if they came inland to follow her, it would have to be on foot.
She would sell her beautiful cloak at the first village she found, then buy clothing and food. But she would wear boy's clothing, and she would cut her hair. Selia knew she could pass for a boy; she could easily model Ainnileas' walk and mannerisms. It would be safer to travel as a boy, and her disguise would help throw the Finngalls off her trail. With any luck she would make it home without a second glance from anyone.
Home . Would her father take her back, ruined as she was? She was the wife of a Finngall. The marriage had been consummated. Only death—either hers or Alrik's—could set her free.
And was it even safe to go home? Would he be waiting there for her, ready to carry her off again, or—more likely—kill her for defying him? No, if she were to stay alive, she would need to outsmart him. Go as deep inland as possible, and look for somewhere safe to hide. She could find work, keep to herself, and eventually send word to her family. How long this would take, Selia didn't allow herself to contemplate.
The day dawned cold and rainy. Exhausted and soaked to the bone, still she kept moving. The men always rose early. Alrik would be awake by now, looking for her. The thought of his big hands wrapped around her neck gave her the boost of fear she needed to press on.
How long had she been running? Two hours, maybe three? Her legs were so tired. Rain dripped in her eyes, and she had already fallen twice. But Selia pushed on blindly, keeping the diffuse light of the rising sun to her back, always running west.
She lost her footing again, stumbled, and landed on the edge of an embankment. She slipped in the mud as she tried to rise, then slid even further. Her arms flailed, grasping for roots or branches, but everything she managed to clutch on to slipped free from the wet soil. She dug her toes into the mud in an attempt to stop sliding.
Suddenly the earth gave way beneath her feet. For a few confusing seconds, her body rolled and gained momentum.
Then, blackness.
Ulfrik had rarely seen his brother so angry. He seemed to be lit from the inside with it. But it wasn't a blind rage as it had been last night; this had a clarity and focus that Alrik's anger usually lacked. So when the men split up to look for Selia, Ulfrik made sure to go with his brother. None of the men would be disappointed to see the Hersir snap his new wife's neck and be done with it.
If she hadn't gotten in between them last night, the situation with Skagi would never have happened. Ulfrik knew if his brother’s anger continued to build unchecked, someone would end up hurt. But if provided with an intense physical release early enough, Alrik’s fury could be diffused.
A few more minutes of sparring last night would have been enough to calm him, but Selia had jumped in. The embarrassment of his wife leaping to his brother's defense would have been enough to fan the flames of
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