The Captive Maiden

by Melanie Dickerson

  They allowed Gisela to help Valten put his boots back on.

  “Since you have both obviously had enough rest,” Ruexner said with false cheer, “we shall get back on our horses and continue on our journey.”

  Gisela felt as if she’d hardly taken more than a two-minute nap, but she clamped her lips together and walked to the horses. Ruexner’s men held Valten’s reins and the lead rope while he mounted his horse. Then Ruexner mounted and pulled Gisela up in front of him while one of his men lifted her by her waist.

  God, let this nightmare come to an end soon.

  Chapter

  21

  They rode the rest of the day, but stopped at Gisela’s request to rest the horses. Valten knew better than anyone else that Gisela truly was concerned about the horses. He was only surprised that Ruexner would listen to her.

  Valten kept his eye on Ruexner and Gisela. Ruexner’s allowing Gisela to talk him into sparing the horses was a sign that he might have a soft spot in his black heart for her — a soft spot Valten could well understand. She was beautiful, strong, capable, and brave, sweet and compassionate; how could any man not fall in love with her?

  It was unfortunate their earlier escape attempt had failed. Not only were Ruexner and his men more watchful, Valten had lost his only weapon when Ruexner took his dagger. But Gisela had done her best. It chafed to have her see him at Ruexner’s mercy, tied up and vulnerable. But that didn’t matter so much. Her safety was what mattered.

  God, let me not show weakness in front of her. But more importantly, keep her safe.

  And even though he knew she had only been trying to save him from a beating that morning, it galled him to hear her offer to marry Ruexner. Didn’t she understand how her saying such a thing would eat at him?

  Women were strange creatures. But he already knew this, having so many sisters. His father had admitted as much to him one day, but had added that when he found the right woman, she would be worth any confusion she would cause him.

  He was right. Gisela was worth it. Even her strangeness somehow endeared her to him. The way she looked at him sometimes, especially when they had danced together, made him feel like a king. And the way she’d put her arms around him to keep Ruexner from hitting him was imprinted on his memory.

  But if Ruexner had wanted to cause him to suffer, he’d found the perfect tactic. Thinking of Gisela being forced to marry Ruexner made Valten physically ill and filled him with thoughts of the justice he’d like to bring down on Ruexner’s head.

  As twilight descended, Ruexner stopped to make camp again. One of Ruexner’s men had stolen a mince pie and bread rolls stuffed with cabbage from a house at the edge of a village they had passed. They ate the fresh food along with their dried fruit, jerky, and nuts. As before, Gisela made sure to give food and drink to Valten, since their captors would not.

  Just as Valten had hoped, Ruexner forced Gisela and Valten to once again lie down in the middle with the three men surrounding them. Ruexner made Malbert stand guard, since he’d had the most sleep that morning. He kept his hand on his sword hilt and his eyes on Valten and Gisela.

  “Are you well?” Gisela whispered as soon as Ruexner began to snore.

  “Yes.”

  “Your eye is swollen.”

  “I am well. Are you?” He could see her face but faintly in the moonlight filtering through the trees. She looked tired.

  “I am.”

  “Get some sleep.”

  “Do you have a plan to escape?”

  Her question took him aback. “I have no weapon, you have no horse, and my hands are tied. I’m not familiar with this place, and we have only seen one village. No, I have no plan.” It hurt his pride to admit that.

  “If the men all fall asleep, perhaps we could sneak away on foot. Or we could take Sieger and another horse and get away.”

  The guard was eyeing them suspiciously, probably trying to hear what they were saying.

  “I don’t want to endanger you. For the moment, I think it’s better to be patient.” If only they’d been able to get away earlier. But with no weapon or way to cut themselves free now, it seemed impossible.

  “But if the guard falls asleep, perhaps I could steal his sword.” Gisela’s soft voice vibrated with excitement.

  “No. If he falls asleep, tell me, and I’ll steal the sword.”

  “It’s best to let me do it. They won’t harm me, but if he wakes up and sees you coming toward him, he will kill you.”

  “You don’t know that they won’t harm you, and he won’t know who is coming at him in the dark and might kill you by mistake. No, I won’t have you putting yourself in danger.”

  “Silence!” The guard spoke in a harsh whisper, stepping toward them and holding up his sword menacingly. “Go to sleep, both of you.”

  Gisela had an obstinate look on her face, reminding Valten of his sister Margaretha when she was angry or determined to get her way. But she was looking at Valten, not at the guard.

  Ach, but she was stubborn. He was only trying to protect her. But once again, in spite of his frustration, he admired her bravery and determination. And he surprised himself by realizing … he even liked arguing with her.

  They both lay still, and he couldn’t quite tell if her eyes were open or closed. His own eyelids were beginning to feel so heavy he could barely keep them open. He wouldn’t have to worry about her. She was probably already asleep and would sleep all night.

  “Good night, Valten,” she whispered.

  His eyes popped open as irritation warred with admiration again. “Good night, Gisela.”

  Gisela found herself waking up to Ruexner relieving Malbert of guard duty.

  Valten’s eyes were open. He’d probably been awakened by Ruexner too. But as she watched, he closed his eyes. He must be exhausted. How she wished they had been able to escape yesterday. Perhaps now they would be safe in the keeping of his men, and Valten could get the sleep he needed. But it was comforting, too, that he was a light sleeper and had awakened when the guard changed. He wanted to keep her safe; such a sweet sentiment, but likely to get him killed. He believed his men would rescue them after Ruexner brought them to his castle, but how could he be sure? Ruexner would kill Valten rather than let his men take him.

  And since she couldn’t bear to see Ruexner hurt Valten anymore, she would do whatever she could to escape.

  Surely God would not allow Irma and Evfemia — and Rainhilda too — to get away with their cruel trick. By selling her to Ruexner, then helping him kidnap her, they had certainly satisfied their desire to hurt her.

  Gisela awoke again when the sun was already above the horizon and Ruexner’s men were milling about the camp, packing up to leave. Valten was nowhere to be seen.

  She sat up quickly and looked around. Had he escaped? Had he left her there? She should be glad he had gotten away. Hadn’t she told Valten to find his men, to leave her if needed? After all, there was no need in him getting himself killed if he could help it. But still, the thought of him leaving her behind felt like a sack of flour on her chest.

  Then she saw Ruexner walking with Valten. “Your turn, Lew.”

  They were taking turns going into the woods to relieve themselves, and Ruexner had gone with Valten.

  Her heart leaped, then sank. How could she be happy about Valten still being a prisoner?

  Valten came and held out his hands to her. She reached up and let him help her to her feet.

  Realizing how awful she must look, she tried to smooth her hair. “I’m a mess.” Her dress was torn and dirty, and it broke her heart to see the once-beautiful gown getting ruined.

  “You look pretty, as always.”

  She wanted to believe him. She didn’t.

  While their captors were busy, Gisela looked up at Valten, wincing at the swollen, bruised state of his eye, and whispered, “If you get a chance to escape without me, you should take it.”

  He lowered his brows at her in his dangerous way.

  Sh
e quickly went on. “I couldn’t bear it if Ruexner hurt you again.” She reached up and touched his swollen cheekbone, but lightly.

  Valten half frowned. He lifted his hands and ran his knuckles over her jawline. “You shouldn’t worry about me.”

  “Hey!” Ruexner shouted. “No talking amongst the captives.” He motioned to Gisela. “Go relieve yourself and get back here.”

  Gisela turned reluctantly from Valten and obeyed. At least she could be thankful Ruexner didn’t follow her into the woods when she had to go.

  Soon, they were back on the horses and starting on their way again.

  The day slowly crept by. As she traveled with Ruexner on his horse, a few hours after noon, he spoke into her ear, “You look like someone I once knew. Who were your parents?”

  It seemed an odd thing for him to say, and Gisela refused to reply.

  After a few moments, he asked, “You are from Hagenheim? And your parents are from Hagenheim?”

  Gisela could have told him she wasn’t sure where her parents were from and didn’t even know her grandparents’ names, but she didn’t want to encourage his friendliness, so she simply said, “Yes.”

  “And your surname is Mueller?”

  “Yes.”

  He said no more as they entered rougher terrain now, and often their trail led them around small mountains, or down steep hillsides and back up again. They seemed to be following any path that kept them away from the roads. Ruexner must have been afraid of Valten’s men following them.

  When they stopped to make camp, Gisela watched for an opportunity to talk to Valten. She found it when Ruexner and his men decided to build a fire against the chill of the evening air and cook the deer Malbert had killed with his crossbow.

  “Do you think we’re close to Ruexner’s castle?”

  “Two more days, maybe three,” he whispered back. His gaze lingered on her face.

  “Listen.” He spoke quickly. “Tonight I want you to try to untie the rope around my wrists, and then I will watch for a chance to escape.”

  Gisela nodded, her heart rising into her throat.

  Ruexner yelled at them to stop talking, so she stepped away from him, trying not to look as excited as she felt.

  As they all sat down to eat, they heard someone whistling on the trail nearby. Ruexner glanced at their fire, then at one of his men. “Go see who that is.”

  The men put their hands to their swords, as if to make sure they were there, and Lew cautiously stalked toward the sound of whistling, then faint singing. It seemed to be coming toward them, coming quite close.

  “A good evening to you!” a voice sang out.

  “Don’t come any closer,” Lew warned.

  Gisela couldn’t see the person through the dense trees but sensed that he was very close.

  “My good man, I mean you no harm,” the cheerful, rather meek voice went on. “I am but a poor friar on a mission to encourage all men everywhere to repent and believe in the goodness of God. I smelled the smoke from your fire —”

  “You’re not welcome here. Be gone.”

  “Perhaps your companions would be interested in the saving message —”

  “Be gone, I say!”

  “As you wish, as you wish.” Through a small break in the leaves, a man in a friar’s robe and with a tonsured head passed by on a donkey. His eye darted her way, and she was sure he saw her. She opened her mouth to call out to the man. But what could a friar, undoubtedly unarmed, do to help them? She might get the poor man killed if she alerted him to their plight. So she closed her mouth and stayed quiet as he and his donkey continued out of sight.

  As night fell, Gisela lay close to Valten again, and Lew was left to guard them. Valten faced away from the guard, and Gisela plucked at the knot that secured the rope around Valten’s wrists, working to loosen it while keeping her shoulders still. When Gisela didn’t seem to be making any progress, Valten began wriggling his hands, using his thumbs to push the ropes, trying to ease them off. Gisela tried to help him, but eventually went back to trying to loosen the knot.

  Gisela kept glancing at Lew. He was whittling something, probably the same thing she’d seen him working on the first time he’d watched them. He didn’t seem to be paying them any attention. Gisela hoped she looked like she was asleep. Fortunately, she could see both Valten and the guard without opening her eyes too wide.

  She forced her eyes open and realized she had dozed off. Lew was still whittling and Valten was still working quietly and with little movement, pulling at the ropes around his wrists. He had let her fall asleep.

  She pinched her arm, hard, to force herself fully awake, then started trying to loosen the knot again.

  “I can do it,” Valten whispered, so low she could barely hear him, even though she was only a few inches away. “Go back to sleep.”

  “No, I can help.” She also wanted to stay awake so she could tell Valten when Lew fell asleep. In spite of the way he had reacted to her recent suggestions, she thought he would appreciate her help now.

  Valten had made some progress, but the ropes now seemed to be stuck at the joint of his thumb due to the splint around his left hand. He shifted his focus toward trying to work the coils over his right hand. It was slow going, and she wasn’t sure he would be able to do it. If Ruexner caught him, he would no doubt go back to tying it so tight it turned his fingers purple and rubbed the skin off his wrist.

  God, please don’t let him get caught. She was almost afraid to hope. God had saved her when she was locked in her room the day of the ball. She had begged for God’s help and he’d sent Ava’s servant boy, Lukas. Perhaps she only had to believe that he would help her again. She needed to have faith.

  She had once seen a miracle play about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, who got thrown into the king of Babylon’s fiery furnace. They told the evil king that they believed God would save them from the fire. But even if he did not, they still would not worship the king’s false god.

  Perhaps that was the kind of faith God required of her now.

  I believe you will rescue me, God. But even if I don’t escape, please let Valten escape. He has a family who loves him.

  Valten suddenly seemed close to getting his hand free. He kept pulling. She glanced at the guard, whose attention was still focused on his carving.

  Valten slipped the rope off his right wrist.

  Gisela gasped. Valten pressed a finger to his lips. While working to keep her breathing steady, she glanced at Lew; he was still placidly whittling his piece of wood.

  Valten held her gaze. Now what? She assumed they would have to wait until Lew fell asleep. Valten pointed to her and mouthed the words, “You sleep. I will watch the guard.” Then he closed his eyes, put his hands back together, and turned over, as if turning in his sleep. The guard noticed, stared, but then went back to whittling his piece of wood.

  Gisela didn’t want to lie there while Valten plotted their escape. She wanted to watch with Valten, to be ready as soon as the guard fell asleep. But this guard didn’t seem tired at all, so she started praying again. God, please let this guard fall asleep. Or let the next one come soon to take his place, one who cannot keep his eyes open.

  Gisela had so often eased her pain by telling herself she didn’t care what happened. But she couldn’t tell herself she didn’t care if Ruexner forced her to marry him. To be his wife was a detestable prospect. So she kept praying to God to help Valten and her escape, and to keep them safe. It was comforting to ask for God’s help, to believe that he was listening and that he cared. She felt herself relaxing and letting go of her fear …

  “You there. Pssst.”

  Gisela’s eyes popped open, and she realized she’d fallen asleep again. The guard had changed, and the new guard, Malbert, was lying against a tree trunk, snoring.

  Slowly, Valten rolled over, making no noise. But he was not looking at Gisela, but at someone behind her.

  Her heart in her throat, Gisela rolled over as well, to find hersel
f face to face with a stranger. It was the friar she’d glimpsed as he passed by their camp on his donkey.

  The man was bending over so that his face was almost level with Gisela’s. His smile seemed so out of place that Gisela could only stare.

  “Do you need help?” the man whispered.

  Gisela nodded while Valten quietly jumped to his feet. Then he and the friar each took one of Gisela’s hands and helped her up.

  Looking over his shoulder, Valten put his hand under her elbow, and all three of them carefully picked their way away from the three men. When they were fifty feet away, they began walking a bit faster. About a hundred feet away, they came upon the friar’s donkey.

  “Wait here,” Valten said. “I’m going back to get my horse. If I don’t return soon, go on without me.”

  Before she could think of anything to say, he was walking back toward Ruexner’s camp. She stared after him until he disappeared in the dark woods.

  What had she been thinking? They had escaped! She should never have let him go back for Sieger. Because if Ruexner were to catch him and find Gisela gone, Valten was a dead man.

  Chapter

  22

  Valten walked more carefully the closer he got to Ruexner’s camp. He avoided stepping on sticks, and he dodged tree limbs that might brush against his shoulders and make a noise. He was only a few feet from the sleeping guard when he had to step over an enormous rotting tree. A loud snap made him freeze — his foot had landed on a large twig. He watched the nearby guard, as well as Ruexner and his other man a few feet farther on. No one moved, and he could still hear the sounds of soft snoring.

  Valten stepped his other foot over the log and pressed forward.

  Sieger stood silently next to the other three horses. But before he made off with Sieger, he wanted to steal a sword, preferably his own, which he had forfeited to Ruexner when he’d turned himself over to him to save Gisela. Unfortunately, he didn’t know where Ruexner was keeping it, and he had to hurry before the next guard came to take his turn watching them and discovered them missing.