Read The Pagan's Prize Online

Authors: Miriam Minger

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

The Pagan's Prize (25 page)

BOOK: The Pagan's Prize
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Zora looked from the gaping black hole to Semirah. "How
will I get out?"

"When you reach the other side, feel for a latch,
then push up hard." The concubine thrust a small, heavy bag into her hand.
"Here is the gold! Go! By now the flames may have gone out!"

Only too eager to oblige her, Zora plopped down at the
edge of the opening. She had barely swung her legs into the hole when Semirah
shoved her from behind.

"Farewell, Princess."

"Oh . . . !"

Zora had never known such a terrible fright as plunging
feetfirst into blackness, the wind knocked from her body when she landed hard
on her backside. It hadn't been a long drop, perhaps only five feet, and she
realized as Semirah slammed the trapdoor shut above her and secured the three
bolts that she would have to crouch when she stood or risk bumping her head.
Yet the walls were farther apart than her outstretched arms, which made sense
if the tunnel had been built to accommodate men the size of Rurik.

"Farewell to you, too, Semirah, but you didn't
have to push me," Zora muttered. She could just imagine the bruises she
would bear from her fall.

All alone now, she took a moment to catch her breath.
She tried not to dwell upon the fact that there were probably rats down here
and spiders and God only knew what else, telling herself to think instead about
how she was finally going to be free of Rurik. She would never see him again!

Zora was stunned that her excitement could suddenly be
dampened by regret. Furious with herself, she focused on getting out of the
tunnel. Grimacing as she groped around the clammy dirt floor for the bags
holding her circlet and the gold, she was glad when she found them quickly. She
rose to her feet, remembering to keep her head low as she made her way down the
passage.

It was strange to keep walking forward when she couldn't
see where she was headed, the tunnel eerily silent but for the sound of her
breathing. Yet she could tell that she was moving in a winding direction and
not a straight line, the air growing more stuffy as she moved along. Soon her
neck began to ache from hunching over.

As the moments dragged on, she walked faster, one hand
extended in front of her so that she wouldn't go slamming into a wall. When was
this damned tunnel going to end? She would never have guessed that it could be
so long, but then again, the shaft was an escape route.

Although she hadn't seen it for herself, she imagined a
wide strip of forest had been cleared around the compound for defense. The
tunnel couldn't end out in the open, which would leave one at risk of emerging
among enemies who might have encircled the fortifications, but farther away in
the trees where those fleeing could exit safely and without fear of being seen.

Telling herself to take deep, slow breaths as she
tramped on and the air seemed to become that much thinner, Zora willed herself
not to panic. She would be there soon. She had to be there soon . . .

 

***

 

Rurik spurred on his stallion, every lunge of the
powerful animal bringing him that much closer to Zora. By Thor, it had been a
torment sitting through the council of war at the
kreml
, the gravity of events scarcely able to divert him from
thoughts of his unwilling bride!

He could well imagine in what mood he would find her,
no doubt inspired by his unexpected summons, and it only heightened his
anticipation. His frustrating encounters with Radinka and Kerstin had finally
convinced him that he could torture himself no longer. He had made his point.
Zora knew her place. It was time he quenched this desire that was close to
driving him mad.

"My lord, look to the north!"

Arne's cry was almost lost to the wind, the intensity
of which had been mounting since they left Novgorod, a summer storm brewing. At
first Rurik thought the warrior was referring to the veined lightning
crisscrossing the sky, but then he saw an ominous orange haze in the distance
that made his heart seem to stop.

"By the blood of Odin, men, ride hard!" he
roared, digging his heels into the stallion's heaving sides. He had seen such a
glow rising above towns and cities during many a battle and it meant only one
thing: fire.

As they approached the compound, the gates yawning
open, Rurik could hear the crackling of flames and the resounding crash of
timber collapsing. Yet nothing could have prepared him for the sight of an
entire row of longhouses ablaze, sparks exploding heavenward as another roof
caved in with a mighty roar.

Rurik reined in his horse and was on his feet running
toward the worst of the fire before the rest of his men had dismounted. The
heat, fanned by the gusting wind, was so intense that he could feel it like a
hot blast upon his face twenty yards away. Immediately he took charge,
directing his warriors' effort to the assembly hall and commanding that they
douse the three-story wall that was closest to the fire.

"What happened?" he demanded of Leif, whose
soot-darkened face was streaked with sweat as he came running over to Rurik.

"The first longhouse went up a short time ago, we
think from a hearth fire," the warrior shouted above the din. "The
wind has done the rest."

Scanning the overcast night sky, Rurik could smell rain
through the smoke that was burning his throat, but he couldn't tell if it would
come fast enough to save the hall. Right next door was his longhouse, which
would have to be doused with water as well.

"Has anyone been hurt?"

"No, my lord, in that the gods have been merciful.
Yet I've news that will not please you."

Rurik's gut instincts spoke to him before Leif could
say another word. "My wife?"

"Aye, my lord. She is missing. Her slave Nellwyn
found her bedchamber empty when she went to tell her of the fire."

"Damn!"

"Thirty men are searching for her, including her
guards—"

"Double it! There will be men enough to battle the
blaze." As Rurik glanced over his shoulder to the gates that were still
wide open, Leif seemed to read his mind.

"There's no chance she could have escaped that
way, my lord. The guards have been watching for her."

Then she had to be hiding somewhere inside the
compound, Rurik thought as his warrior left him to rejoin those fighting the
flames. Surely Zora couldn't have found one of the secret exits . . . though
she had been taking enough walks of late to make him wonder. She was so
keen-witted . . .

"My lord!" came a shout, one of the men whom
he had assigned to guard Zora running up to him.

"You found her?"

"Not yet, but we did come upon this hanging from
the door to one of the storehouses . . . the one with the tunnel." The
warrior held out a jagged strip of gray linen. "It was caught upon a nail.
We checked the trapdoor inside but it doesn't appear to have been disturbed. The
bolts were drawn and the rushes upon the floor looked untouched, yet. . ."
The man shrugged, falling silent as Rurik studied the torn fragment.

"It could belong to anyone," he said almost
to himself. "A tunic, a mantle . . . of whoever was there last." He
brought the linen closer to inspect it further. "This tells me noth—"

Rurik stopped, suddenly catching the unmistakable
citrusy fragrance of bergamot and cedar emanating from the cloth. He knew only
one woman who wore such a perfume. Semirah. And there would have been no reason
for her to be in that storehouse unless . . .

"Take another man with you and find Semirah, then
bring her to me," ordered Rurik, clenching the linen in his fist. "Go!"

As the warrior hastened away, Rurik focused his
attention upon the fire, anything to temper the rage that was building inside
him. A few drops of rain hit his face, a clap of thunder booming overhead. He
looked up to the sky as the low-hanging clouds seemed to open and a steady
downpour began in earnest.

Shouts of thanks erupted as with one resounding voice.
Rurik knew that the hall and his longhouse were saved. But what of Zora, by
God? Was she still in the compound or somewhere in the surrounding forest? The
vast tracts of woodland were dangerous at best to even those who knew the
terrain, but to a young woman raised in a palace with no knowledge of the wild
and its creatures?

Seized by impatience, Rurik could not wait for his
warriors to bring Semirah to him. As the rain became a deluge, soon soaking him
to the skin, he strode past blackened, smoldering ruins in the direction of his
concubine's longhouse only to spy her resisting the men he had sent to fetch
her. Yet when Semirah saw him approaching, she stopped her struggles and drew
herself up, her gaze unwavering and her chin held high despite the rain lashing
at her face.

"This was found at a storehouse known by only a
few to have a tunnel." Rurik thrust the telltale fragment of linen toward
her. "It belongs to you, woman, and my wife is missing! What say you? Did you
have a hand in her escape?"

She shook her head. "I know nothing of your
precious wife."

Hearing the bitterness in Semirah's voice, Rurik said
simply, "You lie."

"And you are a fool to choose that blue-eyed,
sallow-faced cow over Semirah!"

Rurik had never thought to strike a woman but at that
moment he came very close. Yet his fury was restrained by pity, for he knew
that it was his own disinterest that had provoked the woman. He knew, too, that
he would have to pass judgment upon her for her treachery, but for now that
would have to wait. He didn't want to think what he might do to her if anything
happened to Zora.

"The fire, Semirah. Was that a diversion for your
actions?" he demanded.

Her resentful glare was answer enough.

"Escort this woman back to her dwelling and guard
her well," he ordered. "Don't let her out of your sight."

"Aye, my lord."

Rurik barely heard the reply, for he was already racing
back to his steed. Roaring out names of men to join him, warriors who knew the
surrounding forest well, he had mounted by the time they had assembled around
him.

"My wife has fled the compound through the tunnel.
We will ride to where it ends and, if need be, branch out. She can't have gone
far."

Wheeling his stallion around in a spray of mud, Rurik
didn't wait for them to mount their horses. They knew the way. His only thought
was to find Zora, before something else did.

 

 

 

Chapter 18

 

Zora gasped as her outstretched palm hit a planked
wall, and laughing with nervous relief, she fumbled along the low ceiling for a
latch. It took some doing but she finally found it and with all her strength
she pushed up. The trapdoor was heavier than she had imagined, but refreshed by
the rain pelting her face and a stiff breeze whistling into the tunnel, she was
able to shove it backward.

"Hello?"

No greeting came. And there was no horse or guide in
sight, at least not from what she could tell standing in the tunnel. Thinking
that the man must be waiting for her farther back in the trees, she tossed out
her bags and then hoisted herself up.

"Is anyone there?" The steady plunk of rain
hitting the earth and branches creaking in the strong wind was her only answer.

Sighing, Zora lowered the trapdoor and re-covered it
with wet clumps of moss and pine needles. Then she bent to pick up her bags.
Straightening, she winced as something hard landed upon her foot. "Ouch!"

When she heard several more thuds, she realized that
the bag Semirah had given her must have come open for it was lighter in her
hand. Kneeling to retrieve her gold, Zora found nothing but small rocks at her
feet.

"What? Why . . . she lied to me!"

Hugging her damp cloak to her body, Zora looked around
her nervously, the dense forest suddenly grown menacing in the dark. No gold
grivna . . . no horse and no guide. Damn that Khazar woman! How did Semirah
expect her to find her way to Novgorod? The tunnel had been so long, Zora had
no idea in which direction lay Rurik's compound, let alone her uncle's city.

Hearing a branch snap somewhere behind her, Zora gasped
and spun. Might there be marauding thieves in these woods like there had been
at the portage? And surely wild beasts had to abound in this vast northern
forest, bears and wolves . . .

"Oh, no, that's it," Zora breathed in horror.
Semirah had never intended for her to make it back safely to Chernigov; she
wanted something terrible to happen to her out here! Then she would be rid of
her forever.

No, I mustn't
panic
, Zora told herself firmly, clutching the remaining bag to her breast.
She still had the jeweled circlet and her wedding ring, and she had made it
this far. She could still escape.

All she had to do was find her way back to the compound
and then skirt along the clearing to the road. Then once she was in Novgorod,
she would find some shrewd merchant willing to risk the perils of a journey to
Chernigov not only for the gold she would give him but for the vast reward that
would be his upon her safe return—

A sudden rustling too near for comfort caused Zora to
jump, but before she had a chance to run, she was collared roughly from behind.

"What have we here?" came a harsh guttural
voice as Zora gasped in terror. Her captor held her so tightly around the neck
that she couldn't even turn her head to catch a glimpse of him. "I'm out
hunting for a little supper and snare a pretty forest sprite instead. You're a
tempting one, wench. Wait till the rest of the lads get a look at you."

"Let . . . let me go!" Zora rasped, scarcely
able to breathe for the pressure of her captor's arm against her windpipe.
Clawing frantically at his sodden sleeve, she fought the swamping fear that was
threatening to overwhelm her. "My husband is Lord Rurik of Novgorod! He
will kill you if you hurt me!"

BOOK: The Pagan's Prize
10.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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