The Golden Braid

by Melanie Dickerson

  She slowly sat up and propped herself on her elbow. The room was a strange shape—round, but with squared walls connecting at wide angles. There were eight walls in all and two windows. It was rainy and misty outside, and tree limbs crowded the open windows. The walls around her were made of gray stone and mortar that were crumbling and old.

  Beside her was a bucket of water. She pushed herself up onto her knees, dipped her hand in, and brought the water to her lips. She didn’t know if it was poisoned water or not, but she was too desperately thirsty to care. She splashed a little on her heated face and shivered, then drank some more.

  With the cool water hitting her empty stomach, it growled. She looked around but didn’t see anything that could be food. There was no furniture in the room, but she did find a stack of her own clothing and some blankets.

  She picked up a blanket and wiped her face on a corner of it, then wrapped it around her shoulders. Her feet were bare, so she found some woolen footed hose and put them on. She looked all around the room but . . . where was the door? How had she come to be in this round room without a door?

  She walked to the window and leaned out, then quickly drew herself back in, her head spinning. She was in a tower, very high. There must have been at least three levels beneath the one she was on, so there must be stairs leading up. Perhaps there was a secret door.

  Feeling for loose stones, she found many of them, as the mortar between many was crumbling, but none of them led to a door. Finally, on the opposite wall from the window, she found a place where the stones didn’t match very well, where there were no windows, and where the mortar between them was damp. Had someone put up a wall where the doorway had been?

  The thought sent her scrambling for something hard or sharp. But there was nothing metal to be found. She picked up a stick—the largest one she could find was still very small—and started digging away at the damp mortar.

  “Rapunzel? Can you hear me?”

  She startled at the sound of Gothel’s voice. It was coming from outside, below the window.

  “Rapunzel? Are you awake? I have some food for you.”

  Rapunzel’s hands trembled.

  She hid the stick underneath the pile of clothing on the floor and walked over to the window, hardening herself against the emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

  Looking down, she noticed for the first time that there was a bucket tied to a very long rope, which ran along a pulley wheel attached to the wall next to the window. Gothel was putting something into the bucket. Then she took hold of the rope and began to pull, hand over hand, and the bucket began to rise.

  When the bucket reached the window, Rapunzel took it and set it on the window ledge. She took out the cloth bundle and unwrapped it.

  It was a warm bun stuffed with something. She bit into it, so ravenous it was as if she had brought it to her mouth by instinct instead of choice. The filling was minced pork and cabbage. Delicious.

  If Gothel had bought a stuffed bun and it was still warm, there must be a village nearby. Hope ignited in her chest. Perhaps if she shouted loud enough, someone would hear her.

  She went to the bucket of water and drank some water, then ate the rest of the bun. If only there had been more! Her mind wanted more, but her stomach felt full.

  She heard the pulley squealing and knew Gothel was using the rope to bring the bucket back down to the ground.

  “Rapunzel? I’m going to get in the bucket and I want you to pull me up.”

  Rapunzel didn’t answer.

  “Rapunzel, if you pull me up, I’ll give you more food. I have your favorite—fried apple pasties.”

  Her mouth watered at the thought. But it wasn’t worth it. Besides, she wasn’t sure she had the strength, even though Gothel was a very small person. Gothel would stop her from tearing through the moist mortar and getting out of her tower prison. Instead of answering her, Rapunzel found her stick and started scraping at the mortar again.

  “Rapunzel?”

  She ignored her and continued digging. It took awhile, but she finally dug through one line of mortar, about four inches long, but instead of being able to poke her stick all the way through, there was something hard at the other side.

  She dug through some mortar farther over and found the same problem. Had someone put up two walls of mortar and stone, purposely staggering the rocks and mortar, to keep her from escaping?

  Of course she had. Gothel may be lacking in sanity, but she was clever. And now the mortar was beginning to harden. She kept scraping at it anyway, getting as much of the mortar out as she could. Finally, she was able to work her fingertips around the edges of one stone and remove it. The stone was about one foot wide, one foot deep, and six inches high. But just as she suspected, there was another stone wall behind it. Fortunately, the mortar between those stones was also still damp. She started digging at it with her stick. After another long while, she broke through.

  She tried to see through the crack she had made, but there was less light on the other side. She saw nothing but darkness.

  The mortar was almost set, so she dug faster. Finally, she was able to take out a second stone approximately the same size as the first one. She stuck her arm through and pushed and pulled at the stones beside the hole, but they wouldn’t budge. She pulled and pushed at the stones on her side as well, but the mortar was hard. It was too late. Her window of time had closed.

  She leaned her back against the wall and put her head in her hands, trying to catch her breath and calm her racing heart. “I’m trapped,” she whispered. But there must be another way out. Perhaps she could climb out the window somehow. She just had to wait until Gothel was gone.

  Thinking of Gothel . . . Perhaps she had left. She had not heard her calling her name for a while.

  She crept toward the window on her hands and knees. But after being thirsty for so long, she couldn’t pass the bucket of water without stopping for a drink, especially now that she knew it was not laden with sleeping potion. She paused to clean off her hand before dipping it into the water. Her fingertips were bloody from scraping them on the stones of the wall.

  No matter. She tipped it up and drank directly from the bucket.

  She continued the rest of the way to the window and peeked out. It was beginning to get dark. The bare tree limbs moved slightly in the breeze. Rapunzel got closer and stuck her head over the ledge. Gothel lay on the ground below, curled up with a blanket.

  There lay the woman she had believed loved her, the woman who taught her to sew and cook and pick good herbs and nonpoisonous berries. Her heart longed for the mother who had braided her hair and told her how talented she was . . . then the memories of her cruelty overwhelmed her. She sat back and closed her eyes. “I won’t think about it. I won’t,” she whispered. “I will only think about how to escape. How to get back to Hagenheim and my true friends. People who will not mistreat me. People in Hagenheim who will love me. Where I will be safe. I must escape from here. I will escape. O God in heaven, help me escape.”

  She let the tears squeeze free and run down her cheeks. She would allow herself to cry, to hurt and mourn, but only for a few minutes. Then she would be strong, and she would escape.

  Rapunzel awoke just as dawn was sending light into the air around her. It hurt to move. She was sore all over, but at least she didn’t feel feverish anymore. She sat up on her blanket—her only bedding—and looked around.

  This tower must have been abandoned long ago. Acorns and leaves and sticks littered the stone floor. Why was it here? To whom did it belong? If only the owners would come back and free her.

  She moved to the window. Gothel was no longer lying on the ground below. Rapunzel realized this was her chance. She called out, “Help me! Someone, please! Can you hear me? Help me! I’m trapped in a tower.” She yelled as loud as she could, and even screamed, hoping that sound would carry farther. Perhaps Sir Gerek was nearby, having followed her trail of pages from his book. She was not sure how many days she had
traveled before she started leaving them.

  But she could not wait for Sir Gerek to come and rescue her. And Gothel might have given up on Rapunzel ever speaking to her again. She may have abandoned her to die.

  The bucket was still attached to the rope and was near the ground. It looked sadly empty. She was so hungry, her stomach had stopped growling. There was only a constant ache in the hollowness.

  Rapunzel had already thought about trying to ride down the rope to the ground, but with the pulley wheel, she would fall straight down and break her legs, or worse. She could possibly step into the bucket while holding on to the rope on the opposing side of the pulley, but she did not think she had the strength to bear her own weight, or the dexterity required to climb out of the window and hold the rope simultaneously.

  The tree limb near the window was close enough to reach, but it looked much too spindly to hold her weight.

  The ruins of a castle stood next to the tower. Apparently the rest of the castle had mostly been made of wood and had collapsed, and the stone tower was all that was left of it. Beyond the piles of wood and the stone foundation was a lake that glistened in the cool spring sunlight.

  Perhaps she could climb down the side of the tower.

  She hung her head out the window. Were there enough grooves for her toes and fingers? The wall looked quite smooth. But since the mortar was crumbling . . . it might be possible. But the more she stared down from that height and thought about trying to climb the wall, the dizzier she got. No. It just was not possible.

  But she wouldn’t give up yet. She would keep thinking.

  “Rapunzel,” Gothel’s voice called.

  Gothel was standing at the bottom of the tower.

  “I have your favorite fried apple pasties, and also some plum pudding cakes and some fresh water. But I need you to help pull me up in the bucket.”

  Rapunzel clenched her teeth. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell her to take her fried apple pasties and her plum pudding cakes and choke on them. She would be completely justified in making all manner of condemning reprimands to this woman who had called herself her mother for the past sixteen years. But she needed to concentrate on escaping. And she couldn’t escape if she lost her strength. Besides, she suspected her fever from the day before was caused by not drinking enough water. She did not have much choice. She needed Gothel to survive.

  “You may come up,” Rapunzel said.

  She watched as Gothel stepped into the bucket and held on to the rope. Gothel was lighter and smaller than Rapunzel. They both pulled on the rope, and she started to rise. If Rapunzel let go, Gothel would go plunging back to the ground. Even though she was furious with her, she had no desire to kill her. Vengeance belonged to the Lord, as she had once heard a priest say.

  When she had pulled the bucket level with the window ledge, Gothel took hold of the window casing and stepped onto the window. Rapunzel let go of the rope and helped her inside.

  Gothel untied the cloth bag from her belt and gave Rapunzel the food. Again, it was still warm.

  “There is a village nearby.” Rapunzel said it as a statement, not a question.

  “It is not very near,” Gothel said slowly. “There is a woman I found who cooks very good pasties and bread. She lives outside the village.”

  Rapunzel nodded.

  “So you are not angry with me anymore?” Gothel said.

  “I am as angry with you as I would be with my own birth mother if she had given me poison, forced me from my duties and my friends, forced me to lie in a state of unconsciousness, dragged me into an old tower, locked me away inside, starved me, denied me clean water—”

  “Enough!” The black center of Gothel’s eyes dilated. “You betrayed me with that knight, Sir Gerek, then sneaked away in defiance so that you could do something great? No! So you could be a maidservant.”

  “I betrayed you? In what way did I betray you?”

  “You deceived me.”

  “So that I could learn to read. You knew I wanted to learn, you led me to believe that you would help me find lessons, and yet you never did.”

  “After all I have done for you, would you dare—”

  “Yes, after all you did for me, stealing me away from my rightful parents, from my rightful place, from people who loved me and could give me everything.”

  Gothel said nothing. Rapunzel tried to slow her breathing and control her thoughts. Becoming angry was not the way to concentrate on making a plan of escape. It was foolish to defend herself to this woman.

  “How is your apple pasty? Is it the way you like it?”

  Rapunzel refused to answer. She ate slowly.

  “I think I can tie our straw mattress to the rope and we can haul it up.”

  “Hmm.”

  How strange to have a conversation with this woman, as if the woman had not robbed her of her own human dignity. But she had to pretend to be calm so she could keep her mind clear.

  After they ate, Gothel walked around the tower room making plans about how to furnish it and make it more comfortable.

  “So you expect me to stay trapped in this room, never leaving, because you wish it?” Rapunzel couldn’t stop herself, couldn’t stop the breathless, disbelieving tone.

  “You left me no choice, Rapunzel.” Gothel’s voice was hard. “I didn’t want to do this, but you forced me.”

  Rapunzel wanted to scream. But she concentrated on breathing slowly.

  Rapunzel asked her questions, discovering that Gothel had hired a man from the nearby village to lay the stones and mortar to close up the doorway to the high tower room.

  “Did this man see me lying on the floor?” Rapunzel asked, making her voice unemotional and matter-of-fact.

  “No, I covered you up. He did not know you were in the room.”

  “Weren’t you taking a chance that I would die up here? You could not get up here to help me unless I woke up and was strong enough to eat and drink by myself.”

  Gothel did not answer. Apparently she had been willing to take the risk. Finally, she said, “Do not think Sir Gerek will come and rescue you. As long as he thinks you are only a peasant girl, only a maidservant, he will not come searching for you.”

  Heat rose into Rapunzel’s cheeks. She was breathing hard when she said, “I will never listen to anything you say ever again.”

  “He does not love you. I am the one who loves you.”

  Rapunzel turned and lay down on the hard stone floor, staring out the window at the trees and the sky beyond them.

  Later that afternoon Gothel finally said she needed to leave to fetch their mattress. Rapunzel helped lower Gothel down and watched her walk away.

  She blinked back angry tears. O God, help me find a way of escape.

  Chapter Thirty

  Gerek had not found anyone on the north road who had seen Rapunzel and her mother, so he struck out to the west, traveling, wandering around for days, which turned into weeks, talking to people, searching the woods, the villages, and the roads.

  By the time he returned to Hagenheim, he had been searching for six weeks. His beard was quite long now. He couldn’t even bring himself to go to Frau Adelheit and tell her he had failed to find any sign of where Rapunzel might be.

  Feeling like a defeated challenger, rather than the champion he had prayed to be for Rapunzel, he went to sleep in his own bed in the knights’ barracks. He slept all night and part of the next day. He bathed and went into the chapel.

  The stone chapel was lit with candles and the sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows. He thanked God that it was empty.

  Kneeling before the large crucifix, he prayed, “See my suffering, Sovereign Lord. See my affliction. Though it is not as great as your own when you went to the cross, please have mercy and show me the way. My quest is noble. I seek an innocent girl who has been taken against her will. Merciful God, do not forsake me. Do not forsake Rapunzel. Forgive me for being unkind to her at times. Forgive me for not recognizing what an e
xceptional woman she is.”

  He felt a great weight on his shoulders and chest. “O Sovereign Lord, I wanted to marry Lady Lankouwen. I wanted her for her castle. I wanted to be her defender, but not out of love for her. O God, you know the motives of my heart. I wanted to prove that I was better than my brother. I wanted to be greater and wealthier than he.” It hurt to admit it, but the heaviness on his shoulders lifted a bit.

  A verse from the Proverbs came into his mind. Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.

  Gerek had thought his plans were wise. He had thought he understood success and what he wanted. But he had been leaning on his own understanding. He had not trusted in the Lord with all his heart or submitted his ways to God. He’d been wise in his own eyes, thinking he knew what was best.

  Rapunzel. She was one hundred times nobler than he had been, and he loved her.

  “Forgive me for wanting riches and status more than to give love to a woman who deserves it. I promise, if it is your will, I shall marry Rapunzel and give her everything I am, everything you provide, and I shall begin by giving her my love.”

  He meditated on the Savior’s love, on how great was the Father’s love for his children, for himself, for Rapunzel, and even for Lady Lankouwen, since God surely had another man for her. How much greater was God’s love than man’s love! How much greater, more perfect, more holy. But God knew man, that he was but dust, that man’s love would fail, to various degrees and in various ways.

  So selfish was Rapunzel’s mother’s love for her child. She had forbidden Rapunzel to speak to a man and had made her mistrustful of all men. And when she could not bear to see Rapunzel free and living away from her, she had seized her and fled far away. Gothel must have done something truly atrocious to keep Rapunzel from being able to escape and come back to Hagenheim.

  As the day turned into evening, Gerek continued to fast and pray. Eventually, his mind turned to his own father and mother.