"Bastard whore! Bitch! I should have poisoned you instead of selling you to that cursed slaver! I should have killed you when I had the chance!"
That was the last thing she heard as blackness rose up to meet her, releasing her at last from the pain.
Chapter 30
"Rurik . . . ?" Her eyelids feeling like leaden weights, Zora turned her head to one side and whispered more loudly this time. "Rurik?"
"No, daughter, it's me," came a familiar voice, a large warm hand covering hers.
"Father?" Struck by sudden foreboding, Zora opened her eyes to find Mstislav seated next to the bed, his image blurred and fuzzy. She tried to raise herself on her elbows but immediately fell back, wincing at the sharp pain in her side. "You haven't sent him away, have you? You haven't sent Rurik away—"
"Sshh, Zora, he's in the other room. I finally convinced him to allow the physician to attend to his leg. He's a stubborn one, that Varangian of yours. It's the first time he's stepped away from your bed since we brought you here last night."
"Last night?" She was answered with a nod, her father's face gradually becoming more focused. His expression was somber and he looked weary, as if he had gotten little sleep. Yet his gray-blue eyes held the affection she had always known there.
"You gave us a scare, daughter, one I hope never to relive. Seeing you lying here so pale, the healers doing everything they knew to help you . . ." Mstislav sighed heavily and fell silent, adding after a long moment, "It reminded me of when your mother fell ill . . . except that time, nothing could be done—"
He seemed to choke and he looked away, but not for long. Meeting her eyes again, he squeezed her hand, a faint smile touching his lips.
"You'll be up from this bed in no time, or so I've been promised. Fortunately the knife did not go deep but glanced off your ribs. Yet you lost a lot of blood—"
"My babe?" Zora broke in, beset by fear.
"The child still thrives within you, daughter," came his reassuring reply. "I only regret that I'll not be there at its birth, for you will be far away in Novgorod."
Her eyes widening, Zora stared at him incredulously. But before she could say anything, he went on.
"I had much time to think during the night and knowing as I do now of everything that happened to you, I cannot in good conscience break apart a marriage that God has ordained. If Lord Rurik had not been at that trading camp, no matter that he had been sent to spy against me . . ." Again, Mstislav had to pause for the quaver in his voice and this time, it was Zora who clasped his hand.
"I love him, Father. More than I could ever say."
He exhaled slowly, nodding. "I know this, Zora. Your courageous act last night could not have proved it more clearly. I loved once, too, but could not marry the woman who captured my heart. It is a pain I have never overcome, and I do not wish such suffering for you. You and Lord Rurik have my blessing."
Swept with elation, Zora could only smile her thanks. Yet she sobered at the thought that suddenly came to her and she asked softly, "What of Hermione?"
Mstislav's expression hardened, but it also held regret. "I've banished her to a convent in Tmutorokan until I decide what else is to be done with her. I cannot forgive her for her cruel treachery toward you, but she, too, has suffered. I never loved her mother, and though I tried to treat both of you equally, Hermione must have sensed that you were the joy of my heart. I've never heard such bitterness as she spewed at me last night. I fear Ivan's death has driven her half mad."
Neither of them spoke for several moments, their shared silence a pained one. Finally Mstislav gently stroked her cheek.
"Your sister's troubles are not your fault, Zora, and I will not have you blame yourself. This is my cross to bear." He gave her hand a last reassuring squeeze, then he rose and moved to the door. "I will tell your husband that you are awake—"
"I already know, my lord." Rurik stepped into the room, not caring that his voice had gone hoarse. His gaze flew to Zora's face. Just to see her conscious again, her beautiful eyes anxious and yet so full of hope, made his chest swell with gratitude. He was certain at that moment that the gods must be smiling. "I've been waiting outside until you finished . . . not an easy task."
Becoming oblivious to all else but her, Rurik was scarcely aware that Prince Mstislav had left them, nor did he recall walking to the bed and kneeling beside it. It seemed that suddenly he was there. Reaching out his hand, Rurik touched her tawny hair with shaking fingers.
"I feared . . ." His voice caught. Swallowing hard, he began again, not caring that his eyes were blinded by tears. "I feared that I wasn't going to have the chance to tell you that I love you, Princess. God forgive me for being such a fool, I love you!"
Zora's heart was too full for her to speak, but she didn't need words. Her own eyes brimming, she took his battle-scarred hand in hers and pressed her lips to his palm.
She knew it had been enough when he smiled, then bent his head and kissed her.
About the Author
Miriam Minger is the award-winning, critically acclaimed author of ten historical romances. She also writes inspirational romantic thrillers as M.C. Walker, and is the co-author of the popular Little Mike and Maddie series of children’s picture books about a lovable pair of dogs and their motorcycle adventures.
Historical Romances by Miriam Minger:
Twin Passions
Stolen Splendor
A Hint of Rapture
Captive Rose
Defiant Impostor
The Pagan’s Prize
Wild Angel
Secrets of Midnight
My Runaway Heart (sequel to Secrets of Midnight)
Wild Roses (sequel to Wild Angel)
Inspirational Romantic Thrillers by M.C. Walker:
Blood Son
Children’s Picture Books by Miriam Aronson:
Little Mike and Maddie’s First Motorcycle Ride
Little Mike and Maddie’s Black Hills Adventure
Little Mike and Maddie’s Christmas Book
For information about the above titles, visit www.walkerpublishing.net or write to [email protected].
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