The Pagan's Prize (Captive Brides Collection) by Miriam Minger

Author:Miriam Minger
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, adventure, historical, russia, medieval, viking
Publisher: Walker Publishing

Chapter 15

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.

Sighing, Zora broke from her reverie. Rurik was studying her, his pretty daughter’s flushed cheek pressed to his. Her own face growing warm under his appraisal, she could see that his expression had changed, becoming guarded where a moment ago it had been boyishly open. He had feelings, but they clearly did not extend to her. Squaring her shoulders, she watched as he kissed his child and then set her down, the little girl skipping over to a comely, russet-haired woman.

Another concubine, Zora thought, assailed by that same perplexing pang of resentment. It was then that she noticed for the first time Semirah standing close to Rurik, her chin tilted haughtily, as well as several other richly dressed women with babes in arms or fair-haired tots at their skirts. Strange that she hadn’t noticed them earlier.

Was it his plan now to publicly humiliate her by having all of his women and their children around him? Zora wondered as she walked toward him, her head held high.

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