The Pagan's Prize (Captive Brides Collection)

by Miriam Minger

  Zora gaped at her. So it had been Semirah on his mind when he left her so abruptly last night! Stung by a sharp and wholly unexpected pang, Zora angrily swallowed it down.

  “Did Lord Rurik send you to taunt me with this news?” She drew herself up to a sitting position to better face the woman. “If so, you can tell him for me that I couldn’t care one whit if he had spent last night with all six of his women!”

  Semirah appeared momentarily flustered. “You…you are not displeased that I share your husband’s bed?”

  “Not in the least and why should I be?” Zora’s anger was growing. How dare he allow this woman to come here! “I was forced into this marriage by my uncle, the grand prince. I do not wish to be here but home in Chernigov! Surely as a slave, you can understand—”

  The woman tossed her ebony hair. “I rejoiced the day Lord Rurik bought me from slave traders in Kiev and then brought me here. Rejoiced! All was well until now, when a wife has come into our midst.”

  “And I’m telling you that you have nothing to fear from me,” Zora insisted. “You and the other concubines are welcome to Lord Rurik. The less I see of him, the better.”

  Semirah shook her head then, her dark eyes grown hostile. “No, lovely princess, we have much to fear from you, unless…” The concubine appeared about to say more, but hearing a noise suddenly outside the door, she fled with agile grace to the window and climbed through it just as Nellwyn entered the room.

  “So you’re awake,” said the slave woman with a cheery smile. “I was just setting up a loom for you and I heard your voice, so I thought I should come and rouse you. Having a bad dream, were you?”

  Wondering how Nellwyn could have known, Zora stared at her in confusion.

  “You must have been talking in your sleep. Vasili says I do the same thing—”

  “Ah yes, a bad dream,” Zora agreed, catching on. Grateful that Nellwyn had discerned only one voice instead of two, she rubbed her temple. “But I awoke so suddenly…”

  “Aye, and just as well. A nightmare is hardly the way to start a bright sunny day like this one. Would you like some breakfast, my lady?”

  “Yes, thank you,” Zora replied distractedly, mulling over her strange encounter with Semirah as Nellwyn bustled out the door. What could the Khazar woman have been thinking? One moment she was flaunting that Rurik had slept with her, then the next she had seemed startled when unable to rile Zora. Then she had ended with such a cryptic statement…

  Throwing back the covers, Zora decided not to bother trying to decipher anything. What went on between Rurik and his concubines was none of her concern. She had to concentrate on escape and until she got a good look at the compound, she wouldn’t know how best to proceed.

  Zora had already changed hastily into the same blue tunic she had worn at the wedding—Rurik had obviously not given any thought yet to her wardrobe—by the time Nellwyn came back bearing a tray.

  “I’m going for a walk,” Zora announced. Helping herself to a roll drizzled with amber honey, she took a bite as Nellwyn settled the tray on a table.

  “A walk? Now there’s a fine idea. I’m sure the guards will be happy to accompany you wherever—”

  “Without the guards.” Pushing aside the fur at the window as the slave woman spun in surprise, Zora peered outside. Seeing no one near, she hoisted herself onto the narrow sill. “Don’t look so worried, Nellwyn, I’ll be back soon.”

  “Aye, I certainly hope so, my lady. What shall I tell Lord Rurik if he comes by to ask for you? I’ve a feeling he might, especially since he stopped here last night.”

  “My husband was here?” Zora asked, startled.

  “Indeed he was, long after you went to bed. He came into your room, but you mustn’t have heard him. I scarcely heard him come in the door myself, I was so busy stoking the fire. He near scared the wits from me.”

  Remembering the sensation of someone watching her in the dark, Zora shivered. Why would Rurik have done such a thing? And had he then summoned Semirah to his longhouse, or had he already partaken of his carnal pleasure?

  “If Lord Rurik should ask for me, tell him that I’m still sleeping,” Zora said tightly, then she jumped to the ground.

  “But I can’t do that, my lady! I’d be lying and no one crosses Lord Rurik if they’ve any sense…”

  Nellwyn’s protests faded as Zora hurried to the rear of the longhouse to elude her guards, then she set off at a brisk pace between two more buildings. Licking the sticky honey from her fingertips after finishing her roll, she smiled to herself. It felt so wonderful to walk at will and without Rurik hounding her every step.

  She drew stares from those she passed but she had expected as much. Ignoring the Varangian warriors and slaves alike, she set her sights on the impressive timber fortifications that ringed the compound.

  She was determined to find a way out. There might be only one or two sets of gates through which to enter, but surely Rurik had created several secret exits for use in times of danger. Her father had them in his palace in Tmutorokan, and in these times of strife, Rurik would be a fool not to. If she kept her eyes open, she might spot one.

  Undaunted by the armed men both on the ground and standing sentry on sturdy scaffolding built against the two-story palisade, she pressed on, amazed anew by the compound’s size. Occasionally she noticed hints of smiles on warriors’ faces, and she wondered at their lack of discipline. Surely they must know that she was their commander’s new wife. How dare any of them look at her so! Then an older, thickset warrior wearing an eye patch came toward her as if about to speak but instead of stopping, he walked right past her.

  “I take it, my lord, that you’ll wish to resume overseeing the men’s training now that you’re back?”

  Zora whirled, her face hot with indignation as she met Rurik’s amused gaze. He had been following her, the rogue! With him standing only some eight feet behind her, no wonder his men had been hard-pressed not to smile. How ridiculous she must have looked to have him dogging her so closely, and without her being aware of it!

  “Tomorrow will be soon enough, Nils. Until then, you’re still in charge. I expect to see a lively demonstration of my druzhina’s battle skills this afternoon before the feast.”

  “Their prowess will please you, Lord Rurik. If we marched today against the usurper, his men would fall like chaff before our swords.”

  Braggards! Zora seethed. Did they not know that no amount of training would save them from her father’s fierce warriors?

  She set out again, imagining that Rurik was following her but determined not to give him a second glance. To her dismay, he caught up with her in only a few strides and began walking uncomfortably close to her…so close that his hand brushed hers and she started, struck by an undeniable rush of excitement. Damn him! Crossing her arms tightly in front of her, she trod on.

  “Are you enjoying your walk?”

  “I was until I discovered I had two shadows,” Zora muttered, still refusing to look at him. She could not believe it when she heard him chuckle. He may find his treatment of her amusing, but she did not!

  “You know, Princess, you could have used the door instead of climbing from your window. The guards are there to protect you and escort you whenever you go outside, not to prevent you from leaving.”

  “Protect me from what?” she retorted, irritated all the more that he must have been stalking her since she left her dwelling. “Sometimes you’re not a very good liar, Rurik. You’ve put guards at my door because you don’t trust me. I’m not an idiot.”

  Rurik sobered. “You’re right, I don’t trust you.” Amazed that she had addressed him by his given name, yet not wanting to dwell upon how much it had pleased him or how beautiful she looked with her leonine hair still wild and tousled from sleep, he added, “Have you found what you’re looking for?”

  She stopped to glare at him. “I don’t know what you mean. Must there be some motive behind everything I do?”

  He sighed, gestur
ing to the palisade. “You won’t find the secret exits you seek, Zora, they’re too well hidden. And you’d never come upon one without someone noticing what you were doing anyway. I suggest you abandon your plans for escape and accept your new life here as my wife. It will make things easier for you.”

  “I care not if my time here with you is easy or hard,” she countered, her eyes flashing brilliant blue fire. “All I care is that it is mercifully short.”

  “It will be hard, then, that I promise you,” said Rurik, exasperated by her stubbornness. When she gave no reply and tramped on without him, he stared after her, shaking his head.

  Loki take him, how could a woman who appeared so innocent and vulnerable in sleep vex him so completely when awake? And how could this one woman have captivated him to the point where his most exotic concubine had failed to tempt him?

  Even the ale he had consumed last night in the hall with his men had failed to spark his desire when he finally summoned Semirah to his longhouse. Never before had he held a warm, seductive woman in his arms only to be consumed with thoughts of another whose lips seemed so much redder, breasts so much more exquisite, and skin so much softer.

  Thank Odin that Semirah was proud. He doubted that she would reveal to anyone his lack of interest. And if the same thing happened again tonight with Radinka, his Bulgarian beauty, or tomorrow night with Kerstin, the Finnish mother of three of his sons, he might very well have to change his plan. Perhaps only when he had his fill of Zora would life here settle back to normal. His concubines might be willing to bear his indifference for a time if they believed that he would then welcome them lustily back to his bed…

  It was an idea, by Thor, and a damn good one! Rurik decided as he strode to catch up with Zora. But he wasn’t ready to abandon his most important lesson yet. His imperious princess would know that another woman had lain in his arms last night, and would tomorrow and the next day. Whether he made love to his concubines or not wasn’t important. All that mattered was that Zora learn her place. She was just another woman to warm his bed.

  “Hold!” he demanded, not surprised when she refused to stop.

  Her heart pounding, Zora sensed that Rurik was closing the distance between them but she couldn’t have been more surprised when she was suddenly swept up into his arms. His taunting smile astonished her all the more. She had hoped her defiance would have angered him. She had sworn to make his life a hell and she would, too, doubly now that he had just promised to make her life as difficult as possible. But she hadn’t expected such a reaction—

  “I told you to hold, woman,” he said huskily, gripping her hard against his massive chest. “I expect my commands to be obeyed without question.”

  Flustered by the heat in his eyes, Zora began to wriggle in his arms.

  “I’m not one of your warriors who you can just order about, nor one of your concubines who worships the ground you walk on! Do not forget I am here against my will and I plan to act accordingly!”

  “Then perhaps if I sling you over my shoulder and walk with you around the compound so everyone can see my new bride with her pretty bottom to the sky, you will come to understand that I will not tolerate such defiance. I had thought the feast tonight a good time to introduce you to my retainers, but this method might make a more lasting impression—”

  “Do what you wish,” Zora flung at him, thinking that he wouldn’t dare to so humiliate her. She was Grand Prince Yaroslav’s niece, after all. “I don’t care in the least what your people think of me!”

  “Very well.”

  To her horror, Zora suddenly found herself in the position Rurik had described, pitched over his broad shoulder. Unable to speak for a moment while she gasped for breath, she heard hearty laughter coming from the scaffolding and her face burned with embarrassment.

  “Comfortable?” Rurik asked amiably as he set out with her along the palisade.

  Zora could barely sputter a reply, she was so outraged, one of his hands splayed upon her bottom while the other caressed her upper thigh. “Put…put me down!” she demanded, striking his back with her fists. To her frustration, he seemed unaffected by her pummeling.

  “Tell me, wife,” he began conversationally. “How did you come by making such an observation about my concubines? Or did you simply assume they were content with their lot, as you should be.”

  “You’re mad if you think I’ll ever be content with the likes of you,” Zora said through clenched teeth, giving up her futile pounding. “Your Semirah may believe that she found paradise when she was sold into your arms, but I never will!”

  Rurik slowed his pace, some of his good humor fading. “You spoke with Semirah? When?”

  “This morning. You weren’t the only one to sneak into my room, though I doubt you came in through the window. Your guards would have given me no protection at all if your Khazar beauty had wanted to smother me with a pillow. She may have spent the night in your bed, as she so gloatingly informed me, but she isn’t very happy that you’ve taken a wife.”

  Feeling a knot of anger in his stomach, Rurik decided that he would have to speak with Semirah. He would tolerate no trouble between his women. Yet he was relieved to hear that she hadn’t divulged the truth about last night.

  “So you know—”

  “Yes, I know how you spent your wedding night and I don’t care!” Zora cut him off heatedly. “I told Semirah the same thing, too. If you’re thinking to taunt me with your concubines, Rurik, you only deceive yourself. It doesn’t matter to me in the least what you do with your women!”

  Rurik lifted her from his shoulder so quickly that he heard her gasp, yet when he set her down hard in front of him, her eyes shone with indignation, not fear.

  “Whether you care or not about what I do and with whom isn’t my aim, Princess,” he said tightly, his earlier humor vanished. “You can see now that I decide who shares my bed and when. You hold no special status here. The only difference between yourself and my concubines is that you bear the legal title of wife. Aside from that, they are your equals.”

  How hollow his words sounded to him, Rurik thought as Zora’s eyes filled with angry tears. He felt like he was trying to convince himself that they were true by saying them aloud, while in his innermost heart, he knew that the more he told himself she meant nothing to him, the more he realized that she did.

  Lying to Thordar at the cathedral had proved to him that he would do anything to protect her, for Zora would have been the target of a call for blood vengeance and not his entire household as he had led her to believe. True, Grand Prince Yaroslav deplored strife between his warriors, but Rurik had been thinking of her alone.

  Then standing in her chamber last night after he had left a disgruntled Semirah in his bed, he had almost believed that he might even be falling in love. But, by Odin, that was impossible! He trusted Zora the least of any woman he had ever known. She may be his wife but her allegiance lay with her father, his sworn enemy.

  “Come.” Rurik took her arm, inwardly cursing the effect her furious, teary-eyed silence had upon him. If she had believed him to be a ruthless brute before, he could just imagine what she must think of him now. “I’ve sent seamstresses to fit you for some new clothes. They will be waiting for you—”

  “Damn my new clothes and damn you to hell!” Zora shouted, his touch igniting like a red-hot spark to tinder the outrage boiling inside her. “I never asked to be your wife!” She swiped at her eyes, refusing to cry again in front of him. “I remember you telling my uncle that you had sworn never to marry and I wish to God you had kept your vow! I’ve never known a man as hard and unfeeling as you! How could I be cursed with such a husband?”

  Jerking away from him, her emotion almost choking her, Zora gave no thought to why Rurik didn’t stop her nor did she hear his ragged, half-whispered reply as she fled toward her longhouse.

  “Because I want you, Princess. The gods may spite me for a fool, but I want you.”

  Chapter 15

&nbs
p; Zora would have avoided Rurik the rest of the day, but he didn’t grant her a choice. Dressed in a new lavender silk tunic sewn by one of five busy seamstresses, she was escorted from the longhouse by two forbidding warriors.

  She could hear the clang of weapons well before they reached their destination, a large barren field on the opposite side of the compound, and she surmised that the men in Rurik’s druzhina were practicing their battle skills. It made little sense to her that he would wish her to witness such a display. Did he think he might convince her that his warriors could best her father’s elite troops? Impossible.

  The field was lined by a two-deep throng of men wearing padded leather jerkins and helmets, wives dressed in their finest tunics, and excited, rosy-cheeked children. As soon as Zora approached with her escort, a path opened up for them that led right to the front. Again ignoring the curious stares, she spied Rurik at once, surrounded by three towheaded little boys who were tugging at his mail-shirt.

  “Play a game with us, Papa,” demanded the tallest boy who appeared about six years old. “We’ve been practicing!”

  “Yes, yes, Papa, a game!” chimed in the two littler ones, each holding a blunt-ended wooden sword.

  Laughter rippled through the crowd as Rurik obliged his eager sons by crouching low and parrying their awkward thrusts with his round, gold-painted shield. His delight at their efforts was obvious; he was smiling broadly and laughing, the rich, resonant sound echoed by the boys’ happy squeals.

  Zora watched him in amazement. So he had some feelings after all. Clearly he loved his children.

  Suddenly a little girl with bright red curls came running toward him, and asking his sons to stay their swords, Rurik rose and swept the child high into the air, her chubby arms flying around his neck to hug him tight. Their embrace reminded Zora of how she had used to race to greet her father in those happy times before her mother had died.