The Pagan's Prize (24 page)

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Authors: Miriam Minger

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Viking, #Medieval, #General, #Historical Fiction, #Romance, #Historical Romance

BOOK: The Pagan's Prize
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She knew then that she would not be the one sharing his
bed that night, and she turned away without saying a word. Now that her chance
for escape was so close at hand, she would have to be careful not to rile him.
Even though she longed to fling curses at him and sarcastically bid him to
sleep well, too,
if
and when he slept
at all.

At the huge carved doors she met Semirah returning, and
the concubine haughtily refused to look at her. How Zora wanted to tell her
that she was wrong about Rurik not having eyes for other women! Against her
better judgment, she decided to glance over her shoulder. Why, just look at him
sitting there like some god with women at his beck and

"What? Where did she . . . ?" To Zora's
astonishment, Rurik was alone in the high seat and watching her from across the
smoky room as a slave poured him another goblet of wine. Feeling a shiver of
apprehension mixed with some emotion she could not name, she could not leave
fast enough with her guards, praying that Semirah would come for her tonight.
Holy Mother Mary, she could hope!

 

***

 

But Semirah didn't come either that night or the next,
and thankfully, neither did Rurik.

Nor did Zora see him during the day whenever she
ventured outside to enjoy the sunny June weather and take a break from Nellwyn's
good-humored attempts to teach her how to use a loom, an activity Zora had
originally planned to avoid. Yet she found that the lessons helped take her
mind from her troubles. She imagined that Rurik must be on the training field
with his men for the air was always ringing with the ominous sound of swordplay
punctuated by loud thwacks as weapons struck violently against wooden shields.

Preferring to avoid him, Zora never walked to that side
of the compound. The following afternoon, when she did spy him riding toward
the main gate with twenty odd warriors, she moved swiftly behind a wagon so he
wouldn't see her despite her guards standing in full view.

Attributing her thundering pulse to nerves, she did not
resume her stroll until she was sure that Rurik and his men had left the
compound, a settling cloud of dust the only evidence of their passing.

"Do you know where my husband is bound?" she
asked one of her guards, a lean, lanky warrior who seemed surprised that she
had addressed him.

"Novgorod, my lady, to meet with the grand prince."

"But it's so late in the day. Surely he will not
return before dark."

The warrior shrugged, his eyes suddenly wary. "I
cannot say, my lady."

Deciding it was best not to press him further, Zora
wondered if Semirah knew that Rurik might be gone for hours. She wished that
she could somehow contact her, but that, too, would be unwise. Instead she
returned to her longhouse, resigning herself to another long sleepless night of
agonizing over whether the concubine would ever come for her.

"Nellwyn?" she called out when she found the
main room empty, the standing loom where the slave woman had been working to
unravel the mess Zora had made of her last lesson abandoned. She had gotten so
used to having Nellwyn around, enjoying her company and her quips about her
husband Vasili, a caretaker in Rurik's stables, that it felt strange not to see
her busy at some task. "Nellwyn?"

"Aye, in here, my lady."

Following the familiar voice into her bedchamber, Zora
was surprised to find the slave woman laying out a shimmering white garment on
the mattress that was far too sheer for a tunic.

"One of the seamstresses just brought this for
you. Isn't it lovely? I've never seen a sleeping gown so fine." As Nellwyn
straightened, she lifted a delicate sleeve and rubbed it between her fingers. "Hmmm,
so silky soft. And just look at how the fabric catches the light! I know Lord
Rurik will be pleased when he sees you wearing it tonight."

"Tonight?" Zora croaked, her voice gone
hoarse.

Nellwyn turned, her eyes lit with sudden understanding.
"Your husband's summons came while you were out, my lady. You'll be
sharing supper with him when he returns from Novgorod. I'm to see that you are
bathed and dressed, then your guards will escort you to Lord Rurik's longhouse
where you will await him."

"No . . ." Zora murmured, barely able to
comprehend what Nellwyn had just told her. "He has other women to please
him . . . beautiful, willing women—"

"From what I have heard, my lady," Nellwyn
interrupted, lowering her voice as if to share a secret, "though it's only
the talk of slaves, Lord Rurik has found no pleasure in his concubines and is
sending them untouched and unhappy from his bed. Even that haughty desert
witch, Semirah, has failed to please him. If you ask me, I believe he thinks
only of you."

"No, he thinks only of himself!" Zora
countered, even as Semirah's bitter words of two nights ago came flying back at
her to echo what Nellwyn had just said. Dear God, could it be true? Was it
possible that Rurik hadn't made love to any of his women because of her? Didn't
desire his other women because of her?

Swept by sudden elation, Zora was just as quickly
shocked at herself. She could care less about why Rurik might be spurning his
concubines! This news changed nothing, but it might explain why Semirah was
willing to risk everything to be rid of her. No wonder the concubine resented
her.

Yet if all this was so, why had Rurik gone out of his
way to flaunt his women in front of her since she had arrived? He had made it
very clear that she meant nothing to him

A sharp knock sounding upon the outer door caused Zora
to start.

"Easy now, my lady. It's only the hot water for
your bath," said Nellwyn, taking a moment to pat Zora's arm reassuringly
before hurrying past her. "I'll have them set the tub near the hearth
where it will be nice and warm."

Struck anew by what such preparations portended, Zora
could only nod numbly. Walking over to the bed, she sank down upon it, her
fingers brushing against the sleeping gown.

As if the gossamer fabric had burned her, she snatched
her hand away, remembering all too well how miserable she had felt when another
garment prepared especially for her had been settled over her head. Her wedding
gown, compliments of Lady Ingigerd, who had tried to convince her that Rurik
had accepted her for his bride for no other reason than that he wanted her . .
.

"Princess Zora, come quickly!"

"Semirah?" Zora vaulted from the bed and
after shutting the door against the commotion of slaves preparing her bath in
the next room, she rushed to the window and yanked aside the fur covering to
find the concubine gripping the sill. "What are you doing? Where's the
guard?"

"Talking with the others! Now hear me! I will come
for you at dusk. Be ready!"

Semirah was gone before Zora could reply and she
whirled from the window, her heart in her throat, as Nellwyn rapped upon the
door.

"Shall I help you disrobe, my lady? Your bath is
waiting."

Zora had to fight to keep her voice calm. "No,
thank you, Nellwyn, I can manage. I'll be out in a moment." Her hands were
icy as she brought them to her burning face, her legs weak with relief. Rurik
wouldn't see her in that damnable sleeping gown after all!

Suddenly she gasped in horror. Oh, no! Nellwyn had said
she was to be escorted to Rurik's longhouse after she was bathed and dressed,
which would be long before Semirah came for her at dusk. What was she going to
do? Would the concubine know where to find her? Mother of Christ, why hadn't
she thought to say something before Semirah had fled?

Caught up in her quandary and pacing the room, Zora
didn't hear the second rap at her door. She only looked up when Nellwyn
entered, the slave woman's eyes filled with concern.

"Are you all right, my lady? Your cheeks are so
flushed."

"I'm fine," Zora began, then she heaved a
ragged sigh as an idea suddenly came to her. "No, Nellwyn, I'm not fine. I
feel terrible . . . dizzy. I think I should lie down before—"

"Now don't be fainting on the floor!" cried
the slave woman, rushing forward to take her arm. She swept aside the filmy
gown as Zora sank upon the bed. "You're just overanxious about tonight,
aye, I'd swear to it. I was like that myself when I first went to my Vasili's
bed, a quaking virgin if ever there was one. He's a good man, but so big that
he struck the fear of God in me. Yet he couldn't have been more gentle, and so
Lord Rurik will surely be with you."

Rurik, gentle? Willing away all too compelling memories
of his steely embrace, Zora said shakily, "Perhaps you're right, Nellwyn."
She disliked that she must deceive someone who had been so kind to her, but she
had no choice. "Perhaps I'll feel better if I rest for a while. I'm sorry
about the bath."

"Don't trouble yourself, my lady. We can heat up
the water quick enough when you're ready. Now close your eyes and if you need
anything, I'll be right outside."

Zora waited until the door thudded shut behind Nellwyn
before she allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. It was no more than a
few hours before dusk. Surely she could feign her malady at least that long.
She must!

"You're going to find a cold empty bed when you
return tonight, my lord husband," she whispered, imagining the look on
Rurik's face when he realized that she was gone. It was not hard to do. The
image she conjured was so grave and menacing, she shuddered and quickly chased
it from her mind.

 

 

 

Chapter 17

 

Zora had to be shaken awake, and when she opened her
eyes to find Nellwyn leaning over her, she could not believe that she had
actually fallen asleep when there was so much at stake. Yet after two sleepless
nights, she was not surprised that exhaustion had overcome her.

"You look to be feeling better, my lady. I let you
rest a good long time, but it's growing dark—"

"Yes, yes, I feel much better." Zora raised
herself on one elbow, trying to shake the cobwebs from her brain. "You
said it's dusk?"

"Aye, and according to Lord Rurik's summons, he
said he'd be back not long after sunset. We'll have to hurry if you're to be
ready in time—"

"Then prepare my bath, Nellwyn."

"I already have, my lady. The water's steaming and
I've poured in an extra measure of rose oil just to please you."

Seized by desperation, Zora had to think of some way to
get the slave woman to leave her chamber. If it was almost night, Semirah would
arrive soon. Zora didn't even want to consider that she might have missed her. "Please,
Nellwyn, I need a few more moments alone . . . so I can gather my thoughts.
Surely you understand."

Sighing, Nellwyn nodded. "Very well, my lady, but
no longer than that. Lord Rurik's not one to have his orders disobeyed."
She began to close the door, then paused. "If you think it would help, I
could fetch you some wine. A half goblet or so might relax you and I'm sure
Lord Rurik wouldn't mind."

"Thank you, Nellwyn, that sounds lovely. But there's
no need to bring it in here. I'll enjoy it with my bath."

Finally alone, Zora waited an interminable moment just
to make sure that the slave woman wouldn't return. Then she rose and flew to
the chest that held her new clothes.

Throwing back the lid, she pulled out a cloak and
whisked it around her shoulders, then she snatched up a small embroidered bag
that held the gold circlet she had worn at her wedding. Now all she had to do
was watch for Semirah. She was barely to the window when she heard men shouting
outside and a woman screaming shrilly, then frantic shouts of "Fire! Fire!"
split the air.

"Holy Mother, protect us," Zora prayed aloud,
wondering if the compound might be under attack. As she flung aside the fur
covering she got her first acrid whiff of smoke, carried to her on a strong
breeze that whipped her hair about her face. Fearing that her own longhouse
might be aflame, she was tempted to jump out the window right then and there.

To her relief, she saw that it wasn't her dwelling but
the roof of a distant longhouse that had become a bright orange inferno, thick
black smoke boiling into the darkening sky. As warriors began to run toward the
building from all directions with buckets of water, she realized at the same
moment that she spied a cloaked figure hurrying toward her window that her
guards had joined the fray.

"Come! Now!"

Semirah's urgent voice shocked Zora into action. With a
racing heart she climbed onto the sill and jumped to the ground, and after
covering her head with the hood of her cloak, she clasped the concubine's
outstretched hand and dashed with her alongside the building. Men, women, and
children seemed to be running everywhere, the confusion and noise like a swirl
of chaos around them. Then Zora saw that another roof was burning, the gusty
wind having swept the soaring flames onto a neighboring longhouse that was
ominously close to the assembly hall.

"You . . . you started the fire, didn't you?"
Zora rasped as she and Semirah darted between buildings, keeping close to the
walls and well into the shadows.

"How else could I come for you without anyone
noticing? Faster now, we're almost there!"

Zora was gasping for breath by the time they ducked
into a small storehouse. The musty-smelling interior, its walls lined with
barrels, would have been pitch-black if Semirah had not kept the door slightly
ajar.

"Over here." Dropping to her hands and knees,
the concubine began to claw at the dry rushes strewn upon the planked floor
until she had uncovered three heavy-looking iron bolts. One by one she drew
them back, grunting with exertion as she then pulled up a trapdoor. "Go!
It will be dark, so you must feel your way. You will find a horse and guide
waiting for you when you leave the tunnel."

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