The Captive Maiden

by Melanie Dickerson

  He thought of his father and mother, who had a happy relationship. What had his father done to make his mother happy, to win her over and make her love him? His father had told a story of how he and his men had rescued his mother from an evil conjurer. He had also seen his father kiss his mother whenever he returned after being away, even if he had only been gone a few hours. Valten had tried to kiss Gisela, but so far they’d always been interrupted. But she had understood his intention to kiss her, hadn’t she?

  But perhaps kissing was more of a married thing. He was sure Friar Daniel thought so.

  And then there was his younger brother, Gabe. Every maiden in the region seemed to love him. Even though he was married now and had no interest in their flirtations, in the past they had all smiled at him whenever they saw him, batted their eyelashes at him, and tried to talk to him. Gisela had never done that around Valten. Did that mean she didn’t like him?

  What was it about Gabe that drew pretty girls like moths to a flame? Valten had always thought it was his good looks and his glib way of talking. When Gabe was still unmarried, maidens seemed to love the way he could always think of something to say, something clever and charming. It had annoyed Valten. True chivalry was being able to fight for your woman, to protect her. But Gabe seemed to inherit all the talk, and Valten seemed to get all the fight. Girls liked talk more, apparently, because the only ones who seemed interested in Valten were the ones who wanted the status of being the future duchess of Hagenheim.

  These thoughts were not improving his mood. Although it was pleasant to have Gisela fall asleep on his chest, he was even less confident now that he could make Gisela fall in love with him. He wasn’t handsome or a smooth talker like Gabe. Friar Daniel wouldn’t let him kiss her. He was doing his best to rescue her but had yet to accomplish it. And he’d already told Gisela she was beautiful. What else could he do?

  Valten groaned inwardly when the friar came sidling up to him. A sliver of light snaked through the trees and shone on his face, lighting up that perpetual smile on his face.

  Valten scowled at him, hoping he would not wake up Gisela.

  “Good knight,” Friar Daniel began, and Valten cringed at his loud voice. “I can’t help noticing that you scowl a lot. Do you have peace in your life? Because God offers us all peace, in addition to eternal salvation.”

  Aggravated at his question, Valten thought about just letting the silence stretch and not answering the friar, but Friar Daniel would probably just ask again. “No, at this moment I don’t have peace.” How could he have peace when a madman was chasing them and Gisela was not safe?

  Gisela lay relaxed and still against his chest as Sieger and Friar Daniel’s mule picked their way over rocks and around trees, not making very good time as they rode a safe distance from, but parallel to, the road.

  “That is a common problem I have found among noblemen.” Friar Daniel nodded soberly. “The solution is to cast your burdens on Jesus and let him give you his peace.”

  The friar’s words did not apply to Valten’s situation at all. “I will have peace when I can get Gisela safely back to Hagenheim.”

  “But that is exactly the reason you don’t have peace. You are trusting your own strength to get the lady to safety. You must entrust her to God, who is the One who will ultimately make us safe, if we are to be safe.”

  What kind of reasoning was that? But in his heart, Valten knew the friar was right. He had felt, almost since he met Gisela, that God was trying to humble him, to make him realize he should be asking for God’s help and trusting in His strength instead of his own. Perhaps that was what the Bible meant when it said, “When I am weak, then I am strong.” His tutor had made him memorize that passage of Scripture when he was younger, about delighting in weaknesses and difficulties. It had never made sense to him before.

  Friar Daniel was quiet.

  If God wanted him to humble himself, he supposed he must start with admitting to the friar that he was right. “I have been trusting too much in my own strength. But if I live to see Gisela safe and justice done to Ruexner, it will be because of you, friar.”

  “Not because of me. It is because of God.” He smiled his nonjudgmental, cheerful smile.

  “You are right. The Bible says it is God who rescues us from the hand of wicked.”

  “This is true. And where did you hear this Scripture?”

  “I’ve read the Bible for myself.”

  “Ah! You are indeed knowledgeable, then! God says, ‘My people perish for lack of knowledge,’ but you, brother knight, shall not perish, but have eternal life.”

  After a short pause, the friar went on. “I have been roaming the Holy Roman Empire telling as many people as I can that God is good and faithful and will forgive us if we repent. You are one of the few people I don’t have to convince.”

  “Our priests in Hagenheim teach this.”

  The friar grinned. “Glory to God!”

  Valten couldn’t deny that the man seemed truly joyful and at peace with the life he had chosen, wandering about, telling strangers to repent and believe in God’s goodness. When was the last time Valten felt joyful, at peace, and as if his life had purpose? Two tournaments ago? Five? Ten? He couldn’t remember.

  I will discover a new purpose for my life. Valten spoke the words in his spirit, determined to start anew. As soon as he made it back to Hagenheim, he would start learning more about governing and leading and negotiating. He’d fight a new battle, but a more peaceful one. Perhaps he would build a new castle, atop a hill, where he and Gisela would live and raise their children. Perhaps then he would feel at peace, would find new purpose and joy.

  Only … Gisela hadn’t agreed to marry him yet.

  Gisela heard voices as she drifted in and out of sleep. Friar Daniel was talking. Every time Valten answered him, his chest rumbled beneath her ear, quite pleasantly. She felt him sigh. Did he not like what Friar Daniel was saying? She tried to pay closer attention, pretending to still be asleep so she could continue relaxing against Valten’s heavenly warm chest.

  “You, brother knight, shall not perish, but have eternal life.”

  Valten must have said something that pleased Friar Daniel. Gisela was glad. She enjoyed talking with the friar, but she sensed Valten didn’t like his questions.

  Valten was a man of action, but few words.

  Not so Friar Daniel. He began regaling Valten again with stories of people he had given his message to, of people who rejected him, some who mistreated him, and some who gratefully accepted his words, invited him to stay and teach them more, and eventually sent him on his way with extra food and supplies.

  Gisela felt bad for eavesdropping and pretending to be asleep, but she was enjoying the softness of Valten’s tunic against her face and his familiar scent—she breathed in deeply — filling her senses.

  She sat forward and rubbed her eyes. A sound in the distance, like thunder, grew louder. No, not thunder. Horses’ hooves.

  The noise was in front of them, behind them, everywhere. They were soon surrounded by men on horseback. Valten’s arms went taut as he gripped the reins.

  Ruexner rode right up in front of them, grinning his gap-toothed sneer.

  “Thought you could escape from me, did you?” Ruexner laughed.

  Gisela’s heart sank. Not again.

  Chapter

  25

  At least twenty men surrounded them.

  Valten couldn’t fight them all, especially when Gisela was in front of him and any aggressive action on his part could get her killed.

  He braced himself. Ruexner could beat him senseless if he wanted to, or simply kill him.

  Even though Valten couldn’t see Ruexner’s face, as it was completely shaded from the first gray light of dawn, he could tell Ruexner was looking straight at him. “Help the girl down from the horse. I’m taking her with me.”

  Valten tightened his arms around Gisela. She buried her face against his chest, holding on to him as if her life depend
ed on her grip.

  “That’s my crossbow!” Malbert shouted, urging his horse toward Valten.

  Valten took off the weapon, which was slung over his back. It was fairly useless anyway while he was on horseback, surrounded by so many of Ruexner’s men. He handed it to Malbert as if he had intended to give it back to him all along.

  “Where did all these men come from?” Valten glanced around, hoping he might recognize some of them, that he might sway their loyalty and convince them to come over to his side.

  “These are my men.” Ruexner sounded as if he was enjoying every moment of this. “I sent for them before the tournament was over. They are completely loyal to me and are all from Bruchen. My enemy is their enemy.”

  Valten suspected they were little more than nominally trained peasants, forced to take up arms whenever Ruexner demanded it. No doubt they and their families had been living on Ruexner’s family’s lands for generations and were, in truth, loyal to him. Valten would get no help from them. Had they been knights of the Holy Roman Empire, sworn to uphold the code of chivalry, then maybe.

  “What do you intend to do?” Valten said, trying to buy some time.

  Ruexner chuckled. “I don’t have to tell you anything. Put her down and I will let you go. You’re only a few days’ ride from Hagenheim. But if you want the girl, you’ll have to come to my castle and fight for her.” A long pause, then Ruexner said, “I intend for us to settle our score forever, in front of witnesses at my castle in three days. If you win, you may take the lovely maiden and go home. If I win, she shall be my bride and you shall swear never to challenge me.”

  “You cannot mean to do this evil thing,” Friar Daniel said.

  “Shut up.”

  “It is not lawful for you to force this maiden —”

  “This does not concern you, friar,” Ruexner growled.

  Valten could feel Gisela breathing hard, her hands still gripping his clothing. He buried his lips in her hair next to her ear. “I will come for you,” he whispered. “Trust me.”

  Friar Daniel spoke up again. “You are a noble knight, sworn to protect innocent maidens. You must not take this maiden—”

  “Quiet, you pathetic lump,” Ruexner ground out. “Or I’ll force you to marry us this moment, on pain of death.”

  Friar Daniel fell silent.

  “Now, Valten.” Ruexner dismounted and started walking toward them.

  For a moment Valten calculated how easy it would be to kick Ruexner in the face and send him sprawling. But it would do no good; he and Gisela couldn’t escape with twenty men surrounding him. Ruexner or one of his men would kill him if he resisted. He must bide his time and defeat Ruexner when the odds were more in his favor. He had to stay alive for Gisela’s sake.

  “Trust me.” He whispered this last instruction, then pulled on her arms to loosen her grip. His heart was ripping in two at having to force her away from him and hand her to Ruexner.

  He gently removed her arms from around his back and slid her from the saddle. The stricken, horrified look on her face felt like a knife through his gut. Please trust me.

  “Very well. Take her,” Valten said loudly, his voice sounding gruff. “But I shall accept your challenge and see you in Bruchen in three days.”

  Ruexner grabbed her around the waist and hauled her to his side. Enough light shone on his face to highlight his ugly grin.

  Valten hardened his features to show no emotion or concern as he watched Ruexner drag her to his horse. The vile man mounted his horse and then dragged her up in front of him by her arms.

  “No!” Gisela screamed, sending another jolt of pain through Valten. Never had he felt so helpless or so enraged. He could kill Ruexner with his bare hands, but Ruexner’s men would immediately kill him, and that wouldn’t help Gisela.

  Ruexner pulled on his horse’s reins and turned him around, one arm around Gisela’s torso.

  Valten and Friar Daniel were left to stare after them.

  He fought back the curses that rose up and threatened to explode from his lips. But he had to stay calm and think.

  He had two choices: He could either send Friar Daniel to follow Gisela while he went to Hagenheim to round up a small army, or he could follow Gisela himself and send the friar to Hagenheim and hope his father was there to rally enough soldiers to come rescue Gisela — and Valten too, as he was likely to get captured again.

  Since he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Gisela, he decided to go after her and send Friar Daniel to Hagenheim. The friar was so persistent, Father would have to listen.

  But this time, Valten would pray his heart out to God to save them — in God’s mighty strength, not his. Another verse jumped into his thoughts. I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.

  Valten turned to Friar Daniel. “Do you know the way to Hagenheim?”

  The friar looked perturbed, his brows drawn together and his eyes misty. “Hagenheim? … I think so.”

  “Go there and tell them I sent you — Valten Gerstenberg, Earl of Hamlin. Ask to speak to Duke Wilhelm. Tell him to send an army, as many soldiers as he can muster, and come after Ruexner, who is on his way to his castle in Bruchen. I will follow that fiend and do my best to make sure he doesn’t harm Gisela.”

  The friar started wiping his face with his sleeve. “I must say, I am glad. I was wondrous sorry for the girl.”

  “Go. Ride as fast as you can.”

  Valten urged Sieger after Ruexner and his men — and Gisela. He turned back to Friar Daniel, who was nudging his donkey into a trot. Thank you.

  Someday Valten would thank the friar properly. Now he had to do what he could to get to Gisela. He’d do anything to get her back safely, but the most important thing he could do was pray and believe that, even though he was wounded, broken, exhausted, and desperate, God was strong. God, help me. Help Gisela.

  The way Valten had pulled her away from him and handed her over to Ruexner haunted Gisela. Of course, he didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t defeat twenty men. But no matter how often she repeated Valten’s whispered words — “I will come for you. Trust me. Trust me” — being torn away from him had felt horrible. She feared being at Ruexner’s mercy again, after escaping from him. Besides, Valten would risk his life again, would suffer pain, danger, and exhaustion to save her. Her greatest fear was that he wouldn’t survive this time — or that he wouldn’t think she was worth what he would have to go through to save her.

  Always before, if something brought a pain to her heart, she could say, I don’t care. Even if she did care, saying she didn’t lessened the pain. But it was too blatant a lie where Valten was concerned. She did care, very much, and if she ever got another chance to tell him, she would. She would tell him she loved him. If he was still willing to marry her, she would marry him. And if what he wanted was love and complete devotion, he wouldn’t be sorry for marrying her.

  But would she ever get a chance?

  Valten stayed far enough back that he never saw Ruexner or his men, only followed their easy-to-read trail. After riding for several hours, staying alert for any sign of either Ruexner’s men or his own, Valten’s shoulders ached, the pain encompassing the base of his skull. His eyes burned and he found himself losing his balance, but the memory of Gisela on Ruexner’s horse and the terror on her face kept him going, kept him pushing himself, punishing himself for failing to evade Ruexner. How had the man found him? He must have met up with an expert tracker. No doubt the devil was on his side. But God, aren’t you supposed to be on my side?

  Until now, he had depended more on himself than God.

  Valten took a deep breath, tamping down the frustration that threatened to take over his thoughts. He rubbed the back of his neck, then ran his hand over his eyes. After riding all night, and now all morning, he had to stay awake. He couldn’t fail Gisela. He had to get her back. It was all his fault Ruexner had kidnapped her, and was using her to exact
his revenge. He’d never be able to live with himself if he failed her.

  The memory came rushing back, of lying in bed with a broken leg while his little brother, Gabe, rescued Valten’s betrothed. It was as if his careless little brother, who never had a serious, responsible thought in his life until he ran off to rescue Sophie, had bested him again.

  But his desire to not let his little brother make him look bad didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered except saving Gisela. This was not about Valten looking like a hero. It was about relying on God to save the woman he loved.

  Gisela, with her soft voice, perfect lips, and her beautiful blue eyes … “God, please. You can’t let her suffer at Ruexner’s hands. Please help me save her.”

  What had his life meant? All his success, all the tournaments he’d won … they were like dust and ashes. Meaningless. Without Gisela, his life was meaningless.

  By the time the sun sank behind the trees, Gisela was so weary she could barely keep her eyes open. There were moments she even forgot where she was, as the horse’s constant, jostling gait lulled her into something akin to sleep.

  When they finally stopped to make camp for the night, Gisela let Ruexner lift her off the saddle. But when her feet touched the ground, her legs wouldn’t hold her up, and she crumpled to the ground, too exhausted to stand. What did it matter anyway? Maybe Ruexner would leave her where she lay.

  Hands grabbed her under her arms and lifted her up, then slid under her knees. She found herself being picked up and carried.

  She decided not to bother even opening her eyes, as long as he didn’t try to molest her. Soon, she felt herself being lowered to the ground. Moments later, a warm blanket was spread over her. She never opened her eyes, but let herself drift away.

  Gisela gradually awakened, wondering why her bed had grown so hard. She had replaced the straw in the mattress not long ago; it should be softer than this. One particularly prickly piece of straw was jabbing her hip. She rolled over on her side, but something felt different. She opened her eyes and realized she was sleeping on the ground outside, surrounded by sleeping men.