Odin's Shadow (Sons Of Odin Book 1) (9th Century Viking Romance) (21 page)

Chapter 26

Despite Selia's misgivings, Hrefna asked Ulfrik to take Ainnileas fishing in one of the little boats. Unwilling to send their guest out alone, she reasoned the only one who could communicate well with him would be Ulfrik. Which was exactly what Selia feared.

But since she could think of no reasonable objection to this plan, she was forced to watch silently as her brother and Ulfrik walked toward the dock to spend hours on end together, talking.

Or, knowing Ainnileas, plotting.

Ingrid pouted, angry she hadn't been invited on the fishing trip. Hrefna had needed her help in the house, after announcing the clothes of Alrik, Ulfrik, and Olaf simply wouldn't do for the gathering. While they sewed new clothing for the men, they might as well make a new set for Ainnileas so he wouldn't feel left out.

The girl perked up immediately, obviously excited at the idea of making a present for a handsome foreigner.

Thoughtfully, Selia watched Hrefna pull out bolt after bolt of fine wool cloth in the beautiful bright colors typical of the Finngalls. She had never seen people so in love with clothing, either men or women, but even for them this might be considered excessive. A sewing project such as this would prove huge, taking precious time that might be better used doing something else to prepare for the gathering. After all, every one of them already had several sets of beautifully-worked clothes that would be more than acceptable for the party.

All but her brother. His clothes were in the Irish style, much more subdued than those worn by the Finngalls, and were quite worse for wear from his time on the ship.

Selia studied Hrefna. Did the woman specifically want to make clothes for Ainnileas, but understood the only way she could do so without insulting his pride was to sew for everyone? She held back for a bit, not sure if she should be displeased for her brother.

But then Ingrid picked out a deep green bolt of cloth. She eyed it appreciatively, as though judging how the shade would look on Ainnileas.

Idiot girl. He hates green.

Selia chose the bright blue cloth, holding it out to her stepdaughter. "He likes blue," she said evenly. If Ainnileas were to get new clothes, she would at least ensure it was a color he liked.

The girl eyed her with suspicion, so Selia shrugged and turned away, ready to use the blue cloth for Alrik. It was a nice shade that would set off his eyes. But Ingrid grabbed it from her. She carried it over to the table without another glance at Selia.

"You are welcome," she snapped at the girl. Ingrid ignored her.

After much deliberation, Selia chose the red cloth for Alrik. Many of his clothes were red already, since the color suited him better than any other. But she would sew the breeches from the walnut-brown cloth to make it different from what he already had. Hrefna also had dozens of lengths of tablet-woven silk trim, and Selia found one in shades of red and yellow that would complement both the shirt and the breeches.

The patterns they would use to cut out the cloth were made from rough, undyed wool; the same material used for the clothing of the thralls.

Hrefna handed one to her. "Cut Alrik's out first," she instructed. "I'll need to use the pattern for Ulfrik when you're finished."

"What will we use for Ainnileas?" Ingrid asked.

Hrefna frowned, digging deeper into the chest, and pulled out a parcel from the bottom. "I knew there was a reason I saved these. I made them for the boys when I came to live with them. This one should work for Ainnileas." She shook out a pattern that seemed roughly the correct size. “They were always big for their age.”

“How old were they?”

“Eight when I moved to the farmstead to care for them,” Hrefna replied.

Selia swallowed as she looked down at her own belly. The tiny life that dwelled inside would outgrow her in a matter of a few years.

She spread out the red cloth. To save time she collected a length of deep blue cloth marked for Ulfrik, and laid it atop Alrik’s cloth. She would pin them to the pattern together.

Hrefna put her hand on Selia’s arm to stop her. "What are you doing?"

"I will cut Ulfrik's at the same time," she said with uncertainty. What had she done wrong?

Ingrid snorted, and Hrefna shot her niece a hard look. "Selia, it would not be appropriate for you to make clothes for Ulfrik. A wife makes the clothing of her husband, and if a man is unmarried, then a woman in his family makes his clothes. He would take it as a sign of interest from anyone else. Do you understand?"

"No." The rules of the Finngalls were so puzzling. Was she not in Ulfrik's family?

Hrefna paused. "Making clothes for a man can be . . . almost magic. It can bind him to you. A woman's thoughts and the words she speaks while she is making the clothes will influence the wearer. It is a very powerful gift."

Selia gasped.
That
was the real reason Hrefna had decided all the men needed new clothes—so her niece could ensnare Ainnileas. She stared at Hrefna for several moments in shock.

Storming over to Ingrid, Selia snatched the blue cloth from her. Ingrid screamed in rage.

"You—”Selia sputtered—“you will not use magic on my brother!"

The girl’s eyes flashed as her hands clenched into fists. "
Hrefna,
" she shrieked, "tell her to give that back to me!"

Selia hugged the cloth to her chest. "I will
not
." She turned to Alrik’s aunt. "
I
am Ainnileas' family—
I
will make his clothes."

As Hrefna looked back and forth between them, Alrik emerged from the bedroom, shirtless and disheveled. Selia ran to him, clutching the cloth.

"It is a sad day when a man can't sleep in his own house," he grumbled to his aunt.

"It is also a sad day when a man drinks so heavily he can't arise from his bed until past noon," Hrefna pointed out.

He ignored her and turned to Selia with resignation. "What are you screaming about?"

Ingrid spoke first, glaring at Selia. "We are making new clothes for the gathering. And your wife will not let me make clothes for Ainnileas. She snatched the cloth from my hands."

"He is
my
brother," Selia insisted. "Ingrid should not do it."

Alrik raised an eyebrow at his aunt. They exchanged a long look, then Alrik sighed, shaking his head. "Let Ingrid do it."

Selia's jaw dropped. The girl crowed in triumph as she pulled the cloth away. "Thank you, Stepmother." Her voice dripped with sweetness.

Selia choked back a cry of rage as she stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Infuriating Finngalls.

After a moment Alrik followed her into the bedroom, but she refused to acknowledge his presence. He had made it very clear her feelings meant nothing to him. How could he choose the wishes of his daughter-the daughter he hated-over those of his own wife? How could he have allowed such humiliation?

He sat on the edge of the bed, watching as she paced back and forth. Was he actually biting back a smile? She wanted to hit him.

"Selia." He reached out as she passed him. "Come here."

She smacked his hand away. "Don't you dare touch me, you Finngall bastard!" she yelled at him in Irish.

"'Bastard,'" he repeated, struggling slightly with the Irish pronunciation. "That seems to be a favorite word of yours. I'll have to ask Ulfrik what it means. I'm guessing, 'darling husband?’"

So he thought this a jest? Hrefna and Ingrid plotted to put some sort of Finngall spell over her brother, and Alrik found it amusing? She turned to him with gritted teeth.

"
Bastard,
" she said, this time in Norse. "It means bastard." Selia crossed her arms, waiting for him to explode, but instead he threw his head back and laughed.

"And what have I done to deserve such a title, my little Selia?"

"You would let Ingrid make clothes for Ainnileas. To make him
like
her," she seethed.

"I can see with my own eyes that he likes her. Why would you not allow her to show affection for him?"

"Because she is a terrible girl! Because I will not have her marry my brother!"

He pulled her into his lap. "No man has shown the slightest interest in Ingrid before now. Yet I must find a husband for her. What better match would there be than the brother of my wife?"

"They are children. They are too young to be married."

"So, you are not a child, but your twin brother is?" Alrik teased.

Furious, she turned away. She herself had been so besotted with the handsome Finngall, she had actually suggested
he
marry
her.
But this was different. Her brother’s interest in Ingrid was simply a ruse, and there was no way to explain that to Alrik.

"Wouldn't you like to have your brother live here?" He tilted her chin so she was forced to look at him. "I would have a house built for them nearby so you could see him as often as you liked."

No. He has to leave.
Ainnileas hated Alrik, and if he stayed here he would end up doing something foolish. "I do not want him to stay," she replied. "I am afraid you will hurt him."

"And why would you think that?"

She looked into her husband’s face—so achingly beautiful, yet so dangerous. "Because you are a berserker." Her voice shook over the awful word.

His eyes narrowed but he didn't deny it. "Did Ulfrik tell you that?"

"No one had to tell me."

Alrik was quiet for some time, and she hesitated for a moment before forcing herself to continue. "Alrik, I love you, but I also love Ainnileas. If you ever hurt him . . ."

His face darkened as though he understood the unspoken implication. "You would choose your brother over me."

"I do not want to choose! Why do you not understand that?" She expelled an impatient huff. She had given up everything for this man, yet he still demanded more. Last night he had all but begged her not to leave, and now he seemed paradoxically determined to disprove her love for him.

Alrik's jaw clenched. "I knew you would do this. I knew you would try to manipulate me when you said you loved me."

'Manipulate' wasn't a word she was familiar with, but from the disdainful expression on his face he seemed to be accusing her of lying. She shoved at his chest, trying to squirm from his lap. "I do not know what that means."

"Of course you do, Selia. It's what women do best. You use your face and your body to get what you want. And if things don't go your way, you cry. Or you withhold yourself from me until I agree. You tell me you love me, then you tell me what you want me to do."

She gaped. Could he not see the behavior he described was the only way she
could
get what she wanted? Otherwise she was completely powerless in their marriage.

"You have made me this way." She choked back tears. "You do not listen to me unless I have pleased you. You laugh at me and call me a child. You do whatever you want without thinking of me."

"So you
do
manipulate me on purpose."

"You are not listening, Alrik!"

“More trouble than you are worth." He smirked. “You women are all alike."

She clenched her hands into impotent fists. What should she expect from such a selfish man? He had no regard for the feelings of anyone else. It was little wonder no one could stand to be around him. "Why do you want me to hate you?"

He shot her an impatient look. "I don't want you to hate me."

"Yes, you do. Every time I tell you of my love, you do something bad."

He didn't answer. She pushed a lock of his hair from his face, staring at him until he made eye contact with her. Selia saw a flicker of fear cross his face before it was quickly masked.

"You are afraid," she guessed. "You think I will hurt you."

Alrik laughed. He pushed her aside as he stood up, towering over her in all his masculine glory. "And how could you possibly hurt me, little one?"

"I think you love me too, but you will not say it."

He grunted, turning to rummage through one of the chests. He pulled out a fresh shirt.

Watching him intently, she added, "You think it will make you weak if we are like Hrefna and Olaf—"

"Enough, Selia," he growled. "Stop talking, now."

"But—"

"I said that's enough!" He crossed the room, grabbing her shoulders. His angry face loomed inches from her own. "I wish you had never learned Norse—it was much easier when you kept your mouth shut."

Bastard.
She kicked him hard in the shin, and Alrik hissed in surprise. "Well, I wish I had never met you—
that
would have been easier!"

The muscle in his jaw tightened dangerously. "Yes. It certainly would."

He shoved her aside as he stormed from the room.