The Captive Maiden

“Do you really think so?”

  “I’ll climb to the end of it and jump the rest of the way.”

  “But what about your hand?”

  “I’ll manage.”

  Was he always so tough, so unflinching? How much abuse could his poor broken hand take? The bone would end up growing back wrong, or worse. Might his hand become septic? If so, he could die. Her stomach lurched.

  He tightened the knot, then threw the other end of the makeshift rope out the window, watching it dangle high above the ground. He started to climb out the window.

  “Wait.” Gisela held on to his arm, which felt as hard and solid as a tree trunk. But he wasn’t a tree. He was a man. And even trees could be cut down.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, caressing her cheek with the back of his fingers. “Just climb to the end and I’ll catch you.”

  “I want you to promise me something first.”

  “What is it, liebchen?”

  The term of endearment, and the tenderness that had returned to his eyes, made her knees weak. She wanted to throw her arms around him and kiss him once more, but she resisted. Just barely. “I want you to promise me we will seek out an experienced healer for your hand as soon as we escape, and promise you will follow all their instructions.”

  “I promise.” He cupped her chin with his palm and kissed her so sweetly it stole her breath.

  He pulled away, took a deep breath, then went out the window, holding on to the rope.

  Gisela watched him go, flinching at how painful it must be for him to grip the rope with his broken hand. He looked powerful, in any case, as he maneuvered down. The sight of his massive shoulders made her sigh.

  She didn’t know she could be so … shallow? Enamored? Just plain silly? But she didn’t care. She also didn’t know she could be so happy.

  Valten made it to the end of the rope, then dropped the rest of the way to the ground. He looked up at her. “Just put one leg out the window and grab the rope.”

  Gisela took the hem of her skirt and tucked it between her legs and into the belt around her waist, to preserve her modesty. She stuck one leg out the window, sitting on the edge, grabbed the makeshift rope with both hands, and pulled her other leg out.

  She swayed a bit as she clutched the rope as tightly as possible. Her stomach flipped as she hung high above the ground.

  “That’s good,” Valten said in a soothing voice. “You’re doing well. Now move one hand at a time down the rope.”

  Carefully she shifted one hand down, then the other. Her hands slipped a bit and she clung tighter, terrified of falling the entire way and landing on top of Valten. Slowly, she moved one hand, then the other, and inched her way down. Would Ruexner or his men see them and recapture them? She forced herself to concentrate on her task.

  “You’re doing well,” Valten assured her. “Keep coming.”

  He was probably clenching his teeth at how slowly she was moving, but to his credit, he kept his voice calm and encouraging. He wants to marry me! Thank you, God!

  Gisela’s hand slipped. She clung tighter, letting the rough cloth burn the skin on her palm as she clutched it as tightly as possible. Concentrate. He can’t marry me if I fall on his head and break his neck.

  “You can do it,” Valten’s deep voice crooned below her. “Careful.”

  Gisela inched down. All at once the rope ran out. She was at the end of it before she knew it. Her hands slipped off the end and she was falling.

  She forced herself not to make any noise. Squeezing her eyes shut, she braced herself to hit something solid.

  She landed in Valten’s strong arms. They held her like iron bands, one under her knees, the other under her back.

  “You are so strong.”

  “I have to find Sieger now.”

  “Of course.”

  Still, they stared at each other. Still, he held her in his arms.

  Shouts split the air, coming from the front of the church.

  Valten set her on her feet, grabbed her hand, and started running toward the trees.

  Chapter

  29

  Gisela ran as fast as she could, tree limbs slapping her in the face and snatching at her clothes. Suddenly, her foot sank into a hole, her ankle twisting painfully, and she went down.

  Valten knelt at her side.

  “I’m sorry. I stepped in a hole.”

  “Can you walk?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Valten helped her up, holding her under her arms. She put weight on her left foot and gasped. “I think I can —” She took a step and bit her lip at the pain.

  Valten swept her up in his arms and started walking.

  “You can’t carry me.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I want to get you far enough away from the church so that Ruexner won’t see you. Then I’m going back for my horse.”

  “Do you think they know we escaped?”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment, as if he was listening. Then he turned around and started walking back toward the church.

  “What?”

  “I thought I heard the captain of the guard.”

  Whose guard? Gisela wanted to ask, but kept quiet so he could hear.

  As he continued to walk toward the church, Gisela watched his face for signs of what he was thinking.

  Valten gazed through the trees. Men rushed around, and Gisela thought she recognized the Gerstenberg colors.

  Valten set her on her feet beside a tree.

  “Where are you going?”

  “My men and Ruexner’s are fighting. They must have found us somehow.”

  “But you don’t have a sword!”

  “I’ll find one.”

  Gisela held on to his arm. “Don’t! Please don’t leave me!” If she had to pretend to be fearful to keep him safe, she would do it.

  Valten looked out at the fighting men while Gisela kept hold of him with both hands. He turned to her. “I must go help my men.” He pried her fingers off his arm in a moment, as if her strength was nothing.

  “No!”

  Her voice had no effect as he ran away from her and into the melee.

  Gisela left her place at the tree and hobbled closer, until she was standing at the edge of the woods and could see the men battling in the grassy courtyard of the church. Friar Daniel stood on the outskirts, at odds with the swarm of fighting men in his brown robe, his eyes and hands lifted in prayer.

  She quickly spotted Valten. He had apparently found a sword and was taking on two men at once. And then one of his men came to his aid and started fighting the extra opponent. Valten quickly divested his adversary of his sword and sent him to stand with several of Ruexner’s men who had lost their weapons and were being guarded by two of the Hagenheim knights.

  Duke Wilhelm was also among the men from Hagenheim. He defeated his challengers almost as efficiently as did Valten. Most of Ruexner’s men went down easily to Duke Wilhelm’s well-trained knights and soldiers. It was clear Ruexner was outmatched, with less than half of Ruexner’s men still fighting. Soon, the few that had not been captured surrendered — everyone except Ruexner.

  Ruexner battled his way to Valten and raised his sword in a massive arc, aiming for Valten’s head. Valten blocked the blow, and Ruexner retreated.

  “Surrender, Ruexner!” Duke Wilhelm shouted.

  But Ruexner continued fighting, roaring with each blow he inflicted.

  Valten was obviously tired. He was fighting with a broken hand, a broken rib, and little sleep. But Ruexner was also injured, since Valten had stabbed both his sides with his sword in the tournament, and Ruexner had gone without sleep just as Valten had. But Ruexner seemed to fight with an unearthly strength, as though his rage was driving him.

  Valten’s sword suddenly seemed to take on new life. He took the offensive and struck with new speed and force. He came at Ruexner with blow after blow at a rapid pace, forcing Ruexner to retreat, until he was
bent backward over the front steps of the church.

  “Surrender to me!” Valten yelled.

  Ruexner said nothing, only growled and tried to kick Valten’s feet out from under him. Valten sidestepped and slammed his sword into Ruexner’s so hard that the weapon went flying, landing harmlessly on the stone steps several feet away.

  Valten pressed the point against Ruexner’s chest, over his heart. “Tie him up!” Valten yelled. “He has harassed my betrothed and showed himself unworthy to be called a knight of the Holy Roman Empire.”

  Several men moved forward and took charge of Ruexner, whose expression was stoic now that he was surrounded. After wrongfully capturing her and Valten more than once, tying them up and lording over them, now he was the captive.

  Valten and his father, Duke Wilhelm, stood talking as the men led Ruexner away. They would have to decide what to do with Ruexner and all his men. One knight shouted for someone to go fetch the town barber, or healer, if there was one. A couple of men ran off down the street. Meanwhile, the townspeople milled about, talking and trying to stand on their toes to see what was happening, while the Hagenheim men seemed busy, checking on the injured and watching the prisoners.

  A woman walked toward Gisela. She was well dressed, with plump, pink cheeks and a ready smile. “Gisela Mueller?”

  “Yes?”

  “I am Hette Schwarcz, and I knew the Baroness, Ruexner’s mother. I was telling the truth when I said you were her sister’s daughter.”

  Gisela shook her head. “So it was you who said our mothers were sisters. How do you know this?”

  She squeezed Gisela’s arm. “Because you look so much like her, and her name was Gisela Russdorffer. Baron Ruexner’s mother and her sister promised to name their first daughters after each other. I knew who you were as soon as you said your name was Gisela. But you are tired now, I can see, and no doubt famished. Come with me to the baker’s shop. The baker’s wife is my friend and she will give you whatever you want to eat. Come.”

  Feeling curious, but also thirsty and hungry, Gisela started to go with Frau Schwarcz. The woman looked down at her foot, as Gisela was limping.

  “Oh, you are hurt!” The woman moaned. “You poor thing.”

  “I injured my ankle, but it is nothing.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Valten coming toward her. “Where are you going?”

  “I —”

  The woman interrupted. “I am taking her to get some food, just here,” and she pointed to a shop barely thirty feet down the dirt street. “I promise I shall take good care of her.”

  Valten looked at the woman, then at Gisela. He moved closer. “Can you walk?”

  “Of course. It is only a little sprain. But you come with us. You need to eat too.”

  “I will. You go with this woman, but only there. I shall come soon.”

  Gisela followed the woman, who took her arm and insisted she lean on her. Once inside the little bakery, which was warm and smelled of bread and roast pig, the woman sat her at a small wooden table and brought out a bowl of pork stew and hot buttered bread, with wine and water to drink. Gisela hadn’t realized how tired and hungry she was, and as she ate, Hette Schwarcz told her about becoming friends with Friedric Ruexner’s mother when Hette was married to her first husband, a merchant who lived in Bruchen.

  “Gisela Ruexner, your aunt, was taken by Baron Ruexner when she was but sixteen. He forced her to marry him, since her father was dead and she had no one to object for her. By the time she had her first child, she became resigned to her fate and stayed on with the baron.”

  “That is terrible. Did my mother know what had happened to her?”

  “Not at first. Baron Ruexner wouldn’t let her write to anyone. By the time she got word to your mother, Gisela had two babes and felt she must stay for her children’s sake. But it wasn’t a happy marriage.”

  Hette Schwarcz sighed wistfully. “She loved her children, and then she died in childbirth, bringing forth her third baby. I believe your mother died about the same time. You must have been still a child when your mother died.”

  “Yes. I was only two.”

  “You are as beautiful as your namesake.” Frau Schwarcz patted Gisela’s cheek. “I couldn’t bear for you to marry that Friedric, and against your will.”

  “Thank you for that. I was very grateful.” Gisela felt much better after eating.

  “And now everything is well. Ruexner is captured and you will be with your love.” Frau Schwarcz shook her finger at Gisela. “Don’t think I couldn’t see the love in his eyes when he looked at you. He would have fought to the death for you, that handsome Valten Gerstenberg.” She patted her cheek again. “You shall have a happy marriage.”

  Valten came into the little bakery with his father and several other men, and Frau Schwarcz served them herself. Gisela didn’t get a chance to talk to Valten, as he and the men discussed what had happened to them the last few days. She didn’t mind, as she happily watched Valten eat, thankful their long ordeal was over.

  Gisela learned, as she listened to their conversation, that on his way back to Hagenheim, Friar Daniel had encountered Duke Wilhelm and his men, and he had led them to where they had been when Ruexner had taken Gisela. From there they had tracked them to this town and to the cathedral.

  Duke Wilhelm spoke of what would happen with Ruexner and his men now. It seemed Valten’s father would be taking Ruexner and his two knights, Malbert and Lew, to face King Sigismund and to answer for their crimes against Gisela and Valten. His other men, little more than farmers who had been pressed into service, would be allowed to go home to their families.

  Gisela was glad when the men got up to leave, but Valten stayed behind, all his attention on her as the others left.

  He moved his chair close to her. “I need to get you to a healer,” he said.

  “You need a healer worse than I do. Your hand is badly swollen. How far are we from Hagenheim?”

  “Almost three days. But we are only a half day’s ride from the Cottage of the Seven, where we can rest. There is also a healer there who will look at your ankle.”

  “Cottage of the Seven?”

  “There isn’t a good healer in town, from what I hear, and the town barber has more than he can do to take care of the men who were injured in the fight. My brother, Gabe, is well acquainted with the men at the Cottage of the Seven and their healer, Bartel. He helped Gabe when he was shot with an arrow two years ago.”

  Valten held her hand. “We can be there in a few hours if we leave now.”

  It was a great relief to think that someone knowledgeable in the healing arts would tend Valten’s hand. And perhaps she could even take a bath.

  She could hardly wait.

  Once outside, Gisela saw Friar Daniel coming toward them. He immediately told her the story of how he had come upon Duke Wilhelm and a contingent of his knights and soldiers on their way to Ruexner’s castle in Bruchen. They had easily been able to find Ruexner and his men’s careless trail.

  As they walked, they passed Ruexner and his men, who were tied up and sitting on the ground. “Brother Daniel,” Valten said, his arm around Gisela’s waist, “I do believe there are some men here who are in great need of your good message.”

  “Indeed.” Friar Daniel smiled as though the prospect was a happy one. “I have already arranged it with Duke Wilhelm. He is taking me with him when he travels to King Sigismund’s court with these nefarious men. I have been given his full blessing to speak to them on the trip and to tell them of God’s goodness and how they might repent.”

  “I am happy to hear it.” Though Gisela still was reeling over the fact that Ruexner was her cousin, her own mother’s nephew, she knew she would have to forgive him. She might never want to see him again, but she could pray for Friar Daniel’s success in turning him from his evil ways. “I hope you don’t mind the difficult task before you, of attempting to reform such depraved men.”

  “My dear, I could not have as
ked for anything better. I am pleased to tell the good news to men such as these. After all, who needs the gospel message more?”

  “Amen to that.” Valten looked rather grim as they walked slowly back to the church, but when Gisela caught his eye, he winked. “Brother Daniel, if anyone can reach these men with truth and goodness, it would be you. I have a great respect for your sincerity.”

  Gisela’s heart filled with gratitude at how Valten’s attitude toward Friar Daniel seemed to have changed. Could it be that she and Valten had learned some important lessons since beginning this ordeal?

  Valten clasped hands with Friar Daniel.

  “It is the Lord’s truth that shall win their hearts and minds.” Friar Daniel looked adamant. “And while I am fulfilling my mission, I will pray blessings on your marriage, and that you will be a joy to each other and to your people in Hagenheim.”

  Someone brought Sieger to Valten, and a mount was quickly rounded up for Gisela. The captain of the guard supplied two men to escort Valten and Gisela, and half of the rest were to travel with Duke Wilhelm to escort Ruexner to the king, and the other half would return to Hagenheim. They set out.

  As their horses settled into a comfortable trot, Gisela asked, “Why do they call it the Cottage of the Seven?”

  Valten raised his eyebrows, remembering. “It is a cottage where live seven … rather unusual men.”

  “Unusual?”

  “They are good men, but society’s misfits, living away from people and their superstitions and fears. The important thing for us is that there is a healer who lives there who will take care of your foot.”

  “And your hand?”

  “And my hand.”

  “Good, because I think my ankle will be well in a few days, but looking at your hand makes me want to cry.”

  He hoped she wouldn’t cry. He didn’t like seeing her cry.

  As they rode in silence, his mind went back to the image of Friar Daniel getting on his donkey, preparing to go with Ruexner and his men. Friar Daniel might not carry a sword, but the man was brave nevertheless. And though he didn’t own a sword of steel, the sword he did carry was more powerful in the spirit realm.