Fairy Tale Romance Collection
A servant filled a tankard from a pitcher of red liquid and handed it to her. He filled another for Valten.
Valten stood at her elbow, partially blocking her view of the rest of the hall. He leaned his head toward hers. “My father’s men are searching for Ruexner, and I want you to spend the night with Margaretha.”
Gisela nodded. “Thank you.” She was humbled, first by the fact that she now had no home and nowhere to go, and then by the thought that since her stepmother had taken money from Ruexner, some would say she rightfully belonged to him. They would say she must marry him.
He must have seen the troubled look on her face, because he moved closer. “And your stepmother is spending the night in the dungeon.”
The thought of her stepmother in a dungeon didn’t fill her with joy, as she might have thought it would. Instead, she felt sadness and relief, mingled with anger.
Trying to banish the picture of her stepmother in a dank, dark dungeon, she sipped her drink, letting the liquid soothe her parched throat. She was still hoarse from the yelling and screaming through her chamber window that morning.
She heard footsteps a moment before Margaretha bounced around Valten’s side and threw her arms around Gisela — but carefully, so as not to spill her drink.
“I am so happy you’re here! We were afraid something had happened. We waited for you all day. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell your stepmother you couldn’t go with her, that I needed you to stay with me. You didn’t tell me she was cruel to you. Valten was so worried.” Margaretha glanced up at her brother. “Valten, why don’t you go … walk over there for one minute while I talk to Gisela.” She shooed him away with her hand.
Valten stared down at his sister and raised his eyebrows at her. “One minute is all you get. Gisela wants to dance.”
“Yes, yes, be assured, she’ll dance the very next dance with you. Now go.”
Valten’s gaze lingered on Gisela before quaffing the rest of his drink and walking away.
“I’m sorry, Gisela, but I wanted to talk with you, and I knew Valten would get irritated with our girl talk. Your dress is divine.” She took a step back to get a better look at it. “And that icy-blue color makes your eyes sparkle — oh my! And your hair is so lovely.” She gave her another quick hug. “I hope you can stay with me tonight and forever. We could end up as sisters, maybe very soon!”
Did she mean she thought Valten would marry her? No, she probably was only talking about what Valten had said about her staying at the castle. She wanted to ask Margaretha to tell her more about Valten, but their little sister, Adela, came up behind her, crying. The nursemaid shook her head apologetically at Margaretha. “I’m afraid she’s overtired and says she won’t go to sleep unless you come and sing her a song.”
“Oh, of course, my little liebchen.” Margaretha cupped her little sister’s cheek, then turned back to Gisela. “I must go, but it’s just as well. Valten isn’t known for his patience.” Then her expression changed. “Not to say that he can’t be patient, but I know he wants to be with you, and if we make him wait too long he won’t be happy. I shall return soon!” She waved at Gisela then took her little sister’s hand and hurried off with her and the nursemaid.
Gisela looked around and saw Valten talking with a guard — clearly not one of the guests, as he had on partial armor and a sword at his hip. Not wishing to interrupt him, Gisela drank some more of her spiced wine and water, then put the tankard down on the table. She started to walk over to look at the fresco painted on the wall, but before she could note much more than a couple of knights on horseback and ladies in pink and blue and green gowns, someone tapped her on the shoulder.
Rainhilda stood just behind her, her eyes wide and solemn. “Pardon me, Gisela? Is that your name?” She scrunched her face as if it pained her to utter it. “Your sister Irma is upset and crying. Won’t you please talk to her? She’s over there.” She gestured to the doorway to her left.
Gisela turned her head toward the darkened corridor where Rainhilda pointed. A girl was crying into her hands. She looked up and locked eyes with Gisela.
Irma. Gisela’s stomach twisted. The last thing she wanted to feel was pity for her stepsister.
“Gisela, please come and help Contzel.” Irma sniffed, wiping her face with a handkerchief. “She’s thinking of doing harm to herself.”
“What can I do?” Gisela felt a stab of pity in spite of herself. Contzel had never been as cruel to her as Irma and Evfemia. She had gone along with her mother and stepsister, but Gisela had sometimes wondered if she would have been a kind person if it had not been for them.
“She’s wracked with guilt and wishes she had talked mother out of selling you to Ruexner. She thinks you could never forgive us for what we did.”
“I don’t hold any grudge against Contzel.”
“Please, won’t you tell her that yourself? Perhaps she won’t do herself harm if you will only tell her you forgive her.”
Gisela glanced over her shoulder. Rainhilda had disappeared and Valten was still talking with the guard and wasn’t looking her way. She probably should have someone come with her. However, she didn’t want anyone being privy to the conversation she was about to have with Contzel, where she forgave her for any involvement in selling her to Ruexner, trapping her in her chamber, and all the myriad of things they had done to her over the years, not least of which was forcing her to work as their servant.
Gisela looked from Irma to Valten and back again. “Where is she? I shouldn’t leave the Great Hall.”
“She’s just inside the corridor.” Irma started crying again. “She’s all I have left, now that Mother is …” She sobbed rather loudly before blubbering, “In the dungeon.”
Her tears seemed more real than any she’d seen her cry before. “All right. But I can’t be gone long.”
Gisela stepped through the doorway into the darkened corridor. Why was it so dark? Someone should light the torch in the wall sconce. “Where did you say Contzel was?”
Irma let the door close behind them. The back of Gisela’s neck prickled. Her heart began to pound. Something was amiss. Irma was trying to trick her, she was sure, but before she could voice her alarm, someone threw something over Gisela’s face. A hand clamped over her mouth as she tried to scream. Biting fingers dug into her arms. She kicked but lost her footing and felt herself being dragged down the corridor, away from the ball and away from Valten.
“We are still searching for Ruexner, but there’s no sign of him,” the soldier told Valten. “We’re questioning people as well. So far no one has seen him.”
“Keep all guards on the search, except for the ones guarding the castle.”
“Yes, my lord.”
As the guard walked away, Valten turned to find Gisela. She was not where he had left her. He looked around but she didn’t appear to be anywhere in the room. Perhaps she had left with Margaretha.
He growled under his breath. Would she leave without telling him? During the ball?
He didn’t want to act like a worried nursemaid. She was probably with his sister and they had gone to the garderobe.
“Dance with me.” Rainhilda was at his elbow, smiling up at him. “It is a ball, after all. Aren’t we supposed to dance?”
He was supposed to be dancing with Gisela. He wanted to be dancing with her. But where was she?
He shook his head at Rainhilda. Just then he noticed another guard striding in and walking quickly toward his father, who was at the other end of the room. “You will excuse me.” Valten started toward his father and the guard. “What?” He got their attention as he approached.
Father’s look was grim as the guard said, “The soldier guarding the castle gate was found knocked senseless from a blow to the head. We are rallying our men to surround the castle and look for intruders.”
Gisela. Was it a coincidence he suddenly couldn’t find her?
Just then, a few more guards entered the Great Hall. They stationed themselves at the doo
rs, making the ladies gasp and a frightened murmur break out among the guests.
“Gisela is missing.” His hand went to his hip again out of habit, looking for his sword.
“Missing?” His father looked quite dangerous, as dangerous as Valten felt. He needed his sword. Just then a servant boy walked past with an empty platter. “You. Fetch my squire and tell him to bring me my sword. Then go to the stable and have my horse saddled and ready.”
“Yes, my lord!” The boy ran off.
“She was standing over there” — he nodded at the other side of the room — “talking to Margaretha a few minutes ago. Now they’re both gone.”
Father pointed at the guard. “Get three trusted men and have them scour the castle for Margaretha and Gisela.”
“Yes, your grace.” The guard barely took time to nod before hurrying off.
“Let’s check the west door.” Father headed toward the door Gisela had been standing near the last time Valten had seen her. Valten walked briskly by his father’s side, then broke into a run. The guard moved aside to let him pass.
Holding the door open, he looked around. His father came up beside him.
“These torches on the wall should be lighted.”
“There’s something on the floor over there.” His father pointed several feet down the corridor.
Valten walked over and picked it up. The guard came back with a lighted torch. “It’s a shoe.” A woman’s shoe of white leather. A surge of energy went through Valten. “I think it’s Gisela’s.”
“My lord, I have your sword.” His squire’s voice broke through the haze of rage that had settled in his head. He brushed past his father, took the sword and scabbard, and fastened them around his waist as he walked.
“Ruexner will pay dearly for this,” Valten promised, speaking to no one in particular, but imagining he had the fiend’s neck between his hands. If he dared hurt Gisela …
He started running down the corridor that led outside.
Chapter
18
Gisela struggled to stay conscious, but the cloth bag was clinging to her nose. She managed to get a hand free and pulled the cloth away from her nose so she could breathe.
The man dragged her feet along the ground. She’d lost both her shoes by now—Ava’s beautiful shoes — and the man was holding her around her shoulders, his hand tight over her mouthlips, his other hand gripping her arm.
She struggled but he only gripped her tighter. She tried to drive her elbow into his side, but the way he was holding her, her elbow couldn’t reach.
It was useless. He was much stronger than she was. Her only chance would be to get turned around so she could knee him where it would really hurt, or punch him in the throat.
Behind them she heard men’s voices. She tried to make as much noise as she could, but with being hoarse, and the cloth bag and the man’s hand firmly clamped over her mouth, the sound was so muffled she doubted they heard her.
Her captor dragged her over rocks. She lifted her feet completely off the ground, hoping to slow him down by forcing him to carry all her weight. But he seemed to move faster, not slower.
She pulled at the man’s hand, trying to dislodge it so she could scream, but in response he dug his fingers harder into her cheeks, until the pain was almost unbearable and she was afraid he would break her jawbone.
She stopped clawing at his hand and settled for holding the bag away from her nose so she could breathe.
If only she could get away. If only God would send Valten. If only he would come in time!
They seemed to be moving from dirt to cobblestones, and then she was being lifted. A second set of hands grabbed her. She was transferred from one man to another, and for one brief moment, the hand let go of her mouth. She tried to scream, but her scream was muffled and hoarse. The second man’s hand clamped over her mouth, and she was lifted up onto what felt like a horse’s back. Someone was holding on to her, and the horse started forward, throwing her back against the rider. Other horses started moving at the same time and the same speed, their hooves clopping loudly on the cobblestone street.
Gisela clung to the pommel of the saddle, finding it hard to balance herself when she couldn’t see anything. They must be riding through Hagenheim. She tried to think of something she could do to stop the horse, to get away. She struggled and twisted but the man only held her tighter. Finally, she could think of nothing else to try.
Valten and his men, including some of his father’s best knights and trackers, rode through Hagenheim like the devil was at their heels, speeding through the dark, deserted streets. They headed for the east gate, which led outside the city by the southeast road. When they talked to the guard, Valten found he had guessed correctly; three horses carrying three men and a woman, who was sitting in front of one of the men, had ridden out just a few minutes before.
“What did the woman look like?” Valten yelled the words louder than necessary.
“I couldn’t see her face. There was something covering her head, I don’t know what. It was dark. But her dress was pale blue and glowed in the moonlight.”
Valten and his men urged their horses forward, through the gate and past the city wall. Ruexner was likely taking Gisela to his castle several days’ ride to the south. The men spread out to try to track which direction they went, while Valten and three of his best knights headed south.
They rode hard and fast for an hour, and then Valten caught a glimpse of them ahead. Ruexner was riding double, which meant his horse couldn’t go quite as fast. Valten would soon be upon him, and when more of Valten’s guards caught up to them, Ruexner would be outnumbered.
But could he afford to engage Ruexner and his men in a fight? Gisela might get hurt. And Ruexner wasn’t above threatening to kill her to keep Valten away.
Valten slowed his horse and motioned for his men to gather around. In a low voice, he said, “We will stay just behind Ruexner and his men, and when they stop to make camp, we will sneak in and attack, snatching Gisela away to safety. But for this to work, we can’t let Ruexner know we are so close behind him.”
But it was possible Ruexner had already spotted them. So, thinking ahead, Valten said, “If I am captured trying to save Gisela, you must not follow us or try to rescue me, but ride on ahead of him to his castle. Hartmann here knows where it is. If Ruexner does capture me, he will take us to his castle” — if he doesn’t kill me first — “and you can join with the rest of Father’s men and storm the castle.”
The men nodded their agreement, even though a few of them grumbled at not being allowed to rescue him if he were caught. They quickly spurred their mounts forward and resumed the chase.
Valten’s blood boiled at the thought of Ruexner holding Gisela, of him taking her by force, dragging her away from underneath Valten’s nose, from his own home. Ruexner had violated every code of chivalry in existence. He’d behaved without honor and didn’t deserve to be called a knight of the Holy Roman Empire. Valten would make sure the king heard of Ruexner’s dastardly conduct. And if he hurt Gisela in any way … Valten clenched his fists. As many times as he’d fought and jousted and crossed swords with opponents, he’d never felt such a killing rage before, so strong it was a fire that pounded in his ears and filled his mind with vengeful images. At the same time, the thought of Gisela suffering at Ruexner’s hands sent ice water through his veins, along with a stab of guilt. If Gisela should suffer pain and distress at Ruexner’s hands, it would be his fault. Ruexner had only taken her because of his hatred for Valten.
God, I must save her. I must not fail.
Gisela sensed the horse beneath her getting tired. The poor, poor horses. They’d been riding for a while, and Ruexner had not let up or slowed from their gallop. At least, she assumed it was Ruexner holding her. He had only spoken once, when he removed his hand from her mouth and growled in her ear, “If you scream, I’ll put a gag in your mouth.”
A few minutes later, Gisela tore the hood off her face and t
hrew it down. She expected him to punish her, but he didn’t do anything.
They were following a narrow road, and on either side of them was a dense forest. It was the middle of the night and there were no houses, no one around that she could call to for help.
Did Valten know Ruexner had taken her? Was it reasonable to hope he would come? But she couldn’t imagine he wouldn’t try to save her, if he knew she was in danger.
He was a knight. Even if he didn’t care as much for her as she did for him, she was sure he would still come. Valten was too honorable to let a young maiden be taken from his own castle and not go to rescue her. And he was sure to notice she was missing. She only hoped he didn’t think she had left of her own accord. But he had told his sister, Margaretha, “Gisela wants to dance,” so he knew she wanted to be with him. Surely it was obvious. He will come for me. But his hand was broken. He wasn’t supposed to be riding. Perhaps he would send his men after her, but her heart sank at the thought. Even a dozen soldiers couldn’t make her feel as safe as Valten could.
Since there was no escaping Ruexner’s iron grip around her stomach and his uncomfortably hard chest behind her, and since she’d probably be killed if she flung herself to the ground, she tried to relax and rest without falling asleep. She wanted to be ready if some opportunity to escape presented itself.
More time passed. The men around her kept looking to Ruexner, but he didn’t say anything. The horses slowed but still kept up a fairly brisk pace. Gisela couldn’t help worrying that the poor animals would collapse in exhaustion.
Eventually, Gisela closed her eyes, lulled by the rhythm of the horse’s pounding legs, and the night became an even more torturous experience. She was exhausted, but afraid to fall asleep. And when her head began to drift to one side or the other, or to tilt forward, she would jerk herself awake. Still, they rode on, the horse’s hooves pounding into the ground. Poor horse. He must rest soon or he would die.