Alrek(13)
“Well, Alrek the bold, you really must have angered your god.” She shook her head and pulled a linen towel from the coffer at the end of the bed before throwing it to him. She grabbed one for herself and dragged off her cloak to blot the ends of her hair and her face. Her cloak had kept her relatively dry but Alrek had not been so lucky.
“I have indeed.”
His keen gaze watched her movements and the air grew thick. She lowered her gaze. Warmth spread into her cheeks and chest. He sighed and tugged off his shirt and Ilisa bit back a groan. More time with a half-naked Viking… perhaps God was punishing her? Though she could not fathom why.
Alrek held out his shirt and glanced around uncertainly. “Where should I—?”
“Here.” She took it from him and hung it over the back of the chair. “I don’t have any more men’s clothing, I fear. I did not keep much.”
He lifted his shoulders. “It matters not. I shall have to get wet again to fetch the wood.”
“Oh no, let me.” She put a hand to his arm and the warmth of his skin surprised her. She snatched her hand back and held it to her chest.
“Stay,” he commanded. “I cannot get any wetter and you should stay dry.”
Ilisa sank onto the bed and waited as he fetched the wood. Hands twisted into the fabric of her skirt, her feet twitched with the need to do something to distract herself from the ache bubbling inside. She remained silent as he set about arranging the wood and the kindling. Water dripped down his back in little trails—trails she longed to trace. His skin sheened and once he got the fire lit, the amber glow enhanced the colour of his skin. He made her feel so pale and uninteresting. Why did he kiss her? Surely the Viking women were far more exciting than her. Mayhap it had been the bump to his head. He had shown little interest in her since after all.
Crouched by the fire, Alrek held out his palms to the flames and glanced sideways at her. “Do you have many visitors here?”
“Nay. A few boys from the village to help with the sheep but that is about all. Why?”
“If news of Vikings around the coast reaches the village, will they come to tell you?”
“Aye, I imagine so. At least Galan certainly will.”
His eyes narrowed. “Galan? Who is he?”
Ilisa tilted her head. Had she imagined the tightness in his voice and the tensing of his muscles? He had no idea who Galan was and even if he understood Galan had ambitions to make her his, why should that bother Alrek?
“He is the son of the chief. We have known each other many years.”
He turned his attention back to the fire and stared into it as he spoke tonelessly. “He is a friend and yet he lets you live like this?”
“Lets me? Alrek, he has no say in the matter.”
“You have much land and no man. Why does he not take you as his bride?”
“Aye, Galan would like that very much,” she muttered, “but I will not give my land up so easily. My brother and husband were determined this land would not be lost to the clan leader. He has enough as it is.”
And she would not be lost to a man like Galan who was vain and unpleasant. She suspected his interest in her had started with the land but had been provoked by her indifference. It likely grated on his ego that she did not fall at his feet.
“You do not like this man?” he stated, still staring at the fire.
“Nay, I do not.”
“I do not like to think of you on your own.”
Ilisa let her brow furrow. What an odd mood he was in. “Well I am not alone now,” she said cheerily in the hope of snapping him out of his melancholy.
His head jerked up and a grin cracked across his face. “Nay, you are not.” His grin dropped as he shuddered.
Ilisa came to her feet. “You are still cold. I will brew you some tea.” And now she had stopped obsessing over his muscles, she realised his skin was still damp. She stepped over and put a hand to his arm. Cool, clammy skin met her fingertips. Her stomach bunched. “Alrek, are you well?”
“Aye, aye.” He waved a hand but another shudder wracked his great body.
“I think you should take to bed while I make some tea.”
“I am simply chilled from the rain.”
“You nearly drowned and spent a goodly time in the ocean and were soaked to the skin today. If you value your life, you will go to bed.” She snatched his arm. She had no hope of pulling him up but he sighed in resignation and stood.
“Very well. You are a demanding woman, are you not? Are all Picts so forceful?”
“Nay.” She smiled sweetly. “Just me.”
Chapter Five
Alrek fought in vain to keep from shaking until his muscles ached while Ilisa gave him tea and tucked the blanket around him. Once his shirt was dry, she helped him put it on. It stuck to his skin but he couldn’t stay warm. Never had he felt so helpless in all his life. She stroked his head when he grew fevered and strange dreams came to him. The gods were angry with his misdeeds. They wanted him to make amends. Thor in all his might wracked Ilisa’s cottage with lightning and his head pounded with each crash but Ilisa sang, soothing him like the siren she was.