So with Sven and Magnus at his side and his men from Scotland at his back, he walked forward to be welcomed by the same man who'd sent him away nearly ten-and-three years ago. Rurik looked around as he walked and noticed the luxurious, but clean design of the building that was only a few years old. Not like his father's other properties, which demonstrated Erengisl Sunesson's wealth and power, this one fit the city and the islands.
They'd reached the door of the large chamber and stopped, remaining there, as was custom, until being called forward to greet Lord Erengisl. Rurik held his breath, aware that the first stumbling block could be at just this moment. Rising to his full height, he waited for the call. The herald nodded to him as he spoke in a loud voice, one that carried throughout the chamber.
"Rurik, son of Erengisl, come forward."
He could not help the smile that he wore now as he walked forward to accept his father's greeting. So many years had passed, so much yearning laid buried deep inside him for this moment that he feared it might pass too quickly. Several people spoke as he passed by, but he could only focus his eyes ahead, where a large chair sat in the middle of a dais.
And he saw the man in that chair.
'Twould appear that his father aged well, losing none of the vigor he remembered from the last time he saw him. Erengisl sat with authority in that chair and Rurik climbed the steps in front of it, pausing there. Meeting the gaze of his father's deep green eyes, he knelt down and then bowed his head in respect. He remained low until his father rose from the chair and approached him.
Grasping the hand held out to him, Rurik stood and shook his father's hand and accepted in that moment all he offered. After a few seconds, his father pulled him into a backbreaking hold and the hall erupted in cheers at their reconciliation.
When released, Rurik motioned for his friends to come forward and be presented. Erengisl welcomed them all to his court and his household. Bringing Rurik along onto the dais, Erengisl motioned to a young man at his side and Rurik recognized his half brother Thorfinn.
Although his coloring was that of his mother, Erengisl's first wife, Magnilda, his height and bearing was that of his father. Only a year younger than he, Thorfinn may have carried his noble mother's blood in his veins, but Rurik's mother remained Erengisl's favorite. And that accounted for the lack of warmth in his greeting after these many years.
"Brother," Thorfinn said amiably, although Rurik knew it was only because they were being observed. "Welcome home." He held out his hand in greeting.
How it must have been a bitter taste in his mouth to say those words! Things had ended badly between them when Erengisl decided to marry his present wife, Agnes, at the king's behest, and he put aside Rurik's mother, his mistress of many years. His mother had been the wife of Erengisl's heart, before and even while married to Thorfinn's mother, but marriages for those in Erengisl's class were not based on love or the ability to produce sons-they were based on who gained the most in power or wealth.
And so, with his duty to his liege lord before him and at his demand, Erengisl was forced to give up Moireach and their son. Thorfinn, then only fourteen years old, had cheered the decision, swearing that the Scottish whore's son would never share in their father's inheritance. Now, as he stood side by side with him, Rurik wondered the price of his compliance.
Rurik took the hand offered and shook it. He did not miss the pleased look on his father's face as he did. Apparently, it was important to Erengisl that his sons be reconciled as well.
"So," Thorfinn said, his voice pitched low so that only he could hear it, "the whore's son returns after all."
Rurik felt better knowing the truth and knew he must watch his back. "I thank you for your welcome, brother," he replied, not giving in to the desire to lash out and offer insult to answer insult.
"Come," Erengisl said, waving them along, "I want you to meet those in attendance."
He trailed his father out a door to the side of the dais and into a chamber that served as a meeting place. A group of men followed and took places at the long tables assembled there. Once served wine or ale by servants who stood along the wall, Erengisl introduced them one by one. The only one missing was Gunnar.
"Gunnar joins us on the morrow," his father announced. "Come, Rurik, sit at my side as we discuss the situation of King Magnus." Rurik walked to the seat indicated by Erengisl and noticed that papers already sat there. "Worry not," he said, "Thorfinn will not mind if you sit in his seat while I explain the intricacies of the negotiations."
The glint in his brother's eyes spoke of more than minding giving up his seat of honor, it spoke of revenge for the slight. But once again, his words belied his true feelings, "Of course not, Father. I am pleased to help in any manner possible."
Rurik knew men like Thorfinn. They hid their motives and goals under layers of politeness and carried out their attacks in the dark of night instead of the light of day. You never knew the direction it would come, only that it would happen. He planned on speaking to Gunnar about Thorfinn when the counselor arrived in Kirkvaw.
The discussions proceeded through most of the day, interrupted only by food and wine. Then, at nightfall, they finished and Erengisl invited him to a private dinner. Finally, they would talk as man to man, and father to son. After the public reception and meetings, Rurik admitted that, for the first time, he was looking forward to such a chance to talk with his father. Soon, everyone was gone and only he remained.
"You are not what I expected," Erengisl said as he handed Rurik a cup of wine. "The last memory I have of you is you shaking your fist in anger at me as Gunnar dragged you from my hall."
Rurik remembered the exact moment his father described. His mother had been put aside after being promised marriage and, as her son, he took up her cause. He did not remember his mother asking him to do so, but at that tempestuous age when every wrong look or word is a challenge to honor, Rurik took it up anyway.
"My mother was put aside, after believing your word that you would have her to wife when Thorfinn's mother died. I remember it well," Rurik said. After drinking some of the wine, he added, "Was it worth it?"
"Your mother understood, Rurik."
"I asked not if she understood, I asked if losing her was worth all you gained in her stead."
At that moment, his father looked aged, the glimmer in his eyes faded and Rurik knew he thought on the question asked … and he thought about Rurik's mother, gone for nigh on ten-and-three years from this island.
"The king demanded the marriage. Agnes would not consent if Moireach lived in any of my houses. I had no choice." His voice lacked the conviction of his earlier conversations and Rurik suspected that the answer he would give, if he could, would be no. "If you still feel that way, why did you return? I ask of you the same that was asked of me-to marry for the sake of an alliance."
Rurik emptied the cup and considered the question and the obvious difference between the two of them. "But I come here with no claims on my heart to accept your offer and the marriage that comes with it."
As soon as the words were let free, he knew them for the lie they were. He nearly laughed at the similarities now between father and son. The difference was that he could not claim Margriet or the child she carried. Something must have warned his father not to pursue the topic, for he ended it with a request.
"Agnes accompanied me on this visit and I would ask that you show her the respect due a countess … and my wife. After all, it is her kin involved in the marriage discussions for you."
Rurik nodded, agreeing to his father's request. He'd never met the woman-his mother and he being banished before she would set foot in Erengisl's home-but this was only a courtesy his father asked.
"So you have grown older and wiser since I saw you last?"
"Ten-and-six years old is a terrible time," Rurik offered as an explanation. Now he asked about his brother. "Tell me of Thorfinn. What is his place with you?"
"He is never satisfied," Erengisl said.
"That can be a good thing, making him strive for more or better."
"He earns nothing yet expects it all."
"Father, I would not be the instrument used to divide you from him." Rurik had thought of this when he considered the offer made to him. "There is already enough ill will between us."