Oath Breaker (Sons of Odin Book 3) by Erin S. Riley Page A

ground. She watched Ainnileas work the knife for a few moments.
    “What are you making?” she asked.
    Ainnileas smiled at her. “Tafl pieces,” he replied. “Did your mother teach you to play tafl?”
    The little girl shook her head. “My father—” she began, then stopped herself as a dark flush crept over her face. “I mean, Bolli did.”
    Ingrid, who had been feeling poorly for several days and was now reclining in her pallet, sat up with a scowl to reprimand her. “ Eydis .”
    Eydis’ eyes welled with tears. “I’m sorry, Mother,” she whispered.
    Ainnileas laid the piece down to reach for the child’s hand. “Do not be sorry,” he reassured her in his broken Norse. “I am sad I was not there when you were small. Bolli is a good man to be a father to you when I could not.”
    Eydis wiped her tears away and picked up the tafl piece, turning it over in her hand. “I want to learn to carve,” she said to Ainnileas. “Will you teach me?”
    “Of course not—” Ingrid began, but stopped as Ainnileas turned to her with a shushing gesture. She looked away, visibly pouting.
    Selia bit back a smile, enjoying how quickly Ingrid was now silenced. If only it had been that easy on board Gunnar’s ship.
    Ainnileas flashed his dimples at his daughter. “I will teach you, Eydis. But you have to be very careful with the knife, so you do not frighten your mother.”
    “She cut herself, once,” Ingrid snapped, unable to keep quiet, even for Ainnileas. “She nearly cut her thumb off.”
    “She will be more careful this time. Won’t you, Eydis?”
    Eydis nodded. “I don’t want to make tafl pieces, though,” she declared. “I want to make a bird.” She reached in the pouch attached to her belt, pulling out a small object. “Like this.”
    Ainnileas took it from her, turning it over in his hand. The boys, listening to the conversation, stopped what they were doing and came to see. They exchanged a look, snickering.
    “It’s the stupid bird Leif made,” Geirr scoffed. “It’s not even very good.”
    “She only likes it because he gave it to her,” Faolan agreed.
    “Who is Leif?” Ainnileas asked. When no one answered, he turned to Ingrid questioningly. “Who is Leif?” he repeated.
    She shrugged. “Just a boy from the ship. Leif Gunnarson.”
    “So his father is the man who would have you for his mistress?” Ainnileas hissed, his expression darkening.
    Ingrid turned to him with a hiss. “If I wanted Gunnar Klaufason I would have taken him up on his offer. And he wanted me for his wife , not his mistress.”
    “‘Leif, you’re so handsome,’” Faolan said to Geirr in a mocking, female voice, ignoring the adults’ argument. “‘I want to marry you.’”
    The boys burst into laughter, pleased with their joke, but Eydis’ lip trembled. She snatched the bird away and shoved it back in her pouch. “Never mind,” she mumbled.
    “Boys, stop being cruel to Eydis,” Selia scolded. “Or you can both go to bed right now.”
    Ulfrik smiled at the little girl. “I think your bird is beautiful. If you want your father to help you make another one, perhaps the boys could help me finish the tafl pieces.” He turned to Geirr and Faolan. “We could play tonight if we finish these last pieces. Your mother was an excellent tafl player, if I remember correctly. I owe her a game.”
    Selia concentrated on her spinning, unwilling to look Ulfrik in the eye. “I haven’t played tafl in years.”
    Ulfrik put his carving down. “Years?”
    “Yes.”
    “Why?”
    After Alrik’s ultimatum that she could no longer play with his brother, she’d played a few times with Alrik but found it unsatisfying. She’d had little time for games after the boys were born, and so had simply stopped playing.
    “I was busy, I suppose.” She sighed. “As I am still. If the boys want to learn, you can teach them.” Selia rose, leaving her spinning, to help Eithne with supper.
    Geirr and Faolan crowded around