Enthralled: Viking Lore, Book 1 by Emma Prince Read Free Book Online Page B

enough room to
curl up on her side without brushing against him. She pulled his giant cloak
over herself to cut the cold wind coming off the water.
    Her stomach was empty,
her throat dry, her head spinning from the rolling ocean that enveloped them.
And yet she could still feel Eirik’s gaze trained on her. The heat of it
kindled something strange deep in her belly.
     
    Eirik was a fool—a fool
and a madman to openly confront Grimar about the girl. Yet when he’d heard her
screams of terror and saw her wild fight against his cousin, he’d flown to her
side without thinking. To hear his cousin laugh at her torment had been the
breaking point.
    He couldn’t simply
order Grimar to treat her as a freewoman—she was his thrall, and there was
naught he could do about it. Yet at least he could maintain order as the ship’s
captain. That was the only argument that had cooled Grimar’s blood enough to
avoid an all-out battle right there on the deck.
    But even as Grimar had
re-sheathed his seax, Eirik had seen a light of recognition in his cousin’s
eyes. Eirik cared for the girl’s wellbeing too much—and now she could be used
against him.
    Eirik wasn’t sure when
the animosity between his cousin and him had begun, for they’d played together
as children often enough. Yet even as a boy, Grimar had enjoyed being cruel,
taking an extra swing at Eirik’s ribs after their play-fights were over, or
using farm animals as practice for his sword work instead of a wooden post.
    But it hadn’t been
until Eirik’s father, then the Jarl, had died that Grimar seemed to turn truly
spiteful toward Eirik.
    When Eirik had been a
boy, all in the village remarked on how much he looked like his father. Both
were golden-haired and strongly built, but it was more than that. Even from a
young age, Eirik had demonstrated the level-headedness and strong sense of
honor that had earned his father the title of Steady. The Jarlship wouldn’t
automatically be passed on to Eirik when the time came, but it was widely
believed that he would be just as good a leader as his father.
    But when Arud had died
unexpectedly while on a raid in a neighboring village, Eirik had still been too
young to take his father’s place. Instead, his uncle Gunvald, Arud’s brother
and Grimar’s father, had stepped into the position, assuring all in Dalgaard
that it would make for a smoother transition that way.
    Of course, it had
remained the assumption around the village that when Eirik was of age, he would
take his uncle’s place as Jarl. Yet the timing was never right, or at least so
said Gunvald. Eirik hadn’t minded, for he was more interested in the summer
raids and planning this voyage to the west. But Grimar seemed to have grown
increasingly sour at the idea that Eirik would take his father’s place. And
worse, while Eirik was praised as the likely next Jarl, the village remained
silent when it came to Grimar’s worthiness.
    Eirik didn’t see
himself as Grimar’s competition, but he also didn’t lust for the Jarlship the
way Grimar seemed to. It had been a blow to Grimar’s pride to be sent by his
father on a mission led by Eirik. Though Grimar couldn’t challenge Eirik as the
captain, he’d found a way to hold something else over Eirik—Laurel.
    Eirik cursed himself
all over again for involving himself. Nei, that wasn’t exactly it. If he had to
do it over again, he would still protect Laurel from Grimar’s cruelty. He only
wished that he hadn’t revealed how much the girl affected him, how much power
she had over him—and now how much power Grimar had as a result.
    He motioned for one of
his men to take the tiller for the night so that he could get some rest.
Normally the rocking of a ship at sea could put him to sleep in a matter of
moments. Not so tonight. Every time he closed his eyes, Laurel’s pale,
delicately sculpted face swam before him. He’d stared at her enough to be able
to perfectly picture her wide, unguarded eyes, the soft