A Flame Put Out Read Online Free

male thralls approached the ship as it docked. Ingrid had decided it was worth her while to rise from her bench after all, and she stood next to Hrefna near the docks, close enough to hear whatever conversation the men would have. Selia felt a twinge of resentment as she watched them. Alrik still didn’t trust her enough to stand with the other women.
    Three of the Irish sailors met Alrik at the dock, and even from a distance she recognized Niall’s men. Ainnileas’ men now, but would they would remain so?
    Alrik, the mighty Hersir, towered over the Irishmen. He was a menacing sight indeed as the sun glinted off his mail shirt and the axe he carried at his broad shoulder. And instead of tilting his head as he did when he regarded her, he kept his chin angled in a hostile manner and simply looked down his nose at them. He was trying to intimidate them. Judging from the frightened reaction of the Irish sailors, his tactic appeared to be working.
    Alrik spoke to the Irishmen as the thrall translated. Then he leaned back, crossed his arms, and gave them the disdainful glare Selia knew very well. The conversation was over as far as he was concerned.
    Suddenly there was a scream from Ingrid. Selia’s breath caught. Had Alrik done something after all—had he killed one of them and she hadn’t seen it? She scanned the scene, cursing the fact that she wasn’t down at the docks. Alrik hadn’t moved and no one seemed to be hurt. But Ingrid ran into the woods, wailing, with Hrefna calling out after her.
    The discussion concluded quickly. The three Irishmen hastened to board the ship. They wasted no time sailing out of the bay, as Alrik stalked back toward the house.
    “What happened?” she called to him, but he pushed past her without a word. She followed him into the bedchamber, where he threw his axe to the floor with a clatter and ripped the mail shirt off over his head.
    “ Buadhach ,” he snarled, running his hands through his hair. The Irish name sounded strange spoken with Alrik’s strong Norse accent. “Did you think I wouldn’t learn his name? I will kill him, Selia. I will rip his lungs from his chest—”
    She gasped. “No, you promised!”
    He turned to her. “I promised not to hurt your brother. I made no such promise about the man who would take you from me. And for someone you claim to care nothing about, you seem quite concerned for his safety.”
    “He is an old man, not any threat to you. Buadhach is, um . . .” she paused, blushing, “unable to bed a woman.”
    “And how would you know that?”
    “Eithne told me. She said my father was afraid I would die in childbed, so he would give me to Buadhach.”
    He continued to pace, undeterred. “Yet he would rob me of you, Selia—he would pay those Irishmen to steal you away! I should have killed every one of them, to the last man.” Snarling in frustration, Alrik bent at the waist to be face to face with her. “Never in my life have I swallowed my pride this way, woman. Do not ask me to do such a thing again.”
    Selia stilled, looking into his blazing eyes. She hadn’t been able to see past the threat to Ainnileas’ safety to realize that the Hersir would consider it an achievement of unbearable restraint not to slay the crew of the Irish ship for their part in the deceit. She hadn’t understood the situation would be an affront to his Finngall sense of honor.
    His body shook with the effort it cost to maintain his self-control, and she touched his face to soothe him. “I’m sorry,” she murmured consolingly.
    “Do you have anyone else to tell me about?” His voice was curt. “Any other thwarted suitors I should be aware of?”
    None beyond your own brother. “No,” she whispered. She slid her hand behind his head and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Alrik’s mouth remained hard. “Will Ainnileas be safe?” she asked, looking into his eyes for the truth.
    He drew back. “He will be safe as long as he stays out of Norway. I told those