The Captive Maiden

As she neared the lists, she saw that several attendants and the younger Gerstenberg children—Valten’s brothers and sisters — were already seated in the north side gallery. As she watched, a flourish of trumpets announced Wilhelm Gerstenberg, Duke of Hagenheim, and his wife, Lady Rose, as they rode two beautiful black horses toward the stands. The duke dismounted then helped his wife dismount, and they climbed the steps to the seats of honor.

 

Many people, dressed in their vibrant finery, made their way toward the choice seats surrounding the duke and his family. Similarly, on the opposite side of the field, the more well-dressed people hurried to find seats in the south gallery.

 

A few dirty, raggedly dressed children tried to sit on the benches meant for the upper classes but were shooed away by the guards patrolling the perimeter. In the center of the gallery was a seat of honor, a throne-like chair placed there for the lady who would be crowned the Queen of Beauty and Love. Every tournament had to have its queen, and this one would be no different. Duke Wilhelm, as the sponsor of the tournament, would be expected to choose a queen, but rumor said that he would confer that right on the tournament champion. The queen would have the honor of bestowing on the winner his prize, and, in turn, receiving from him … a kiss. Then she would be led by the champion knight to the banquet, which was by invitation only, at Hagenheim Castle.

 

Gisela was sure the day’s winner would be Valten, but who would he pick to be his lady? The prospects made her feel slightly ill.

 

Her most pertinent question for the moment was where she was to sit. A man stared at her as she made her way toward the gallery. More than one man was staring, actually. One well-dressed burgher stepped toward her. “Beautiful maiden, I would be honored if you would sit with me.”

 

“The pretty girl doesn’t want to sit with you, Hugh. She wants to sit with me.” This from a man equally well-dressed but with a belly as huge as a sow.

 

“Excuse me, good sirs, but I am sitting elsewhere.” She pretended to see her place farther down at the other end of the gallery, but a guard approached her.

 

“Fraulein, I am charged with seating the fairest young maidens in the center section of the gallery, from whom the champion will choose a queen.” He held out his arm to assist her up the steps.

 

The other men moved away, grumbling under their breath, for which Gisela was thankful. She looked the guard in the eyes. He had a kind face and was old enough to be her father.

 

“Are you sure you want me to sit here?” she asked. Perhaps he had only meant to scare away those men.

 

“Of course. And”—he lowered his voice—”you are too beautiful to be wandering around without an escort.”

 

She placed her hand on his gauntleted wrist and let him lead her up the wooden steps. As they climbed higher, her eye caught sight of Rainhilda sitting near the top of the gallery to the left, on the other side of the empty throne. Her nose was stuck high in the air, but Gisela had to admit she looked gorgeous. Her dress was made of panels of pale pink and pale violet silk that brought out the flawlessness of her skin. Instead of the big horned turban on the heads of many of the ladies, she wore a simple veil attached to a jeweled circlet, which better displayed her honey-gold hair, styled as always in ringlets that cascaded over her shoulders.

 

Gisela tried not to stare, hoping Rainhilda wouldn’t notice her. Were Irma and Contzel nearby?

 

She sat in the empty space the guard led her to. “Thank you.” The guard nodded and made his way back down the steps. Gisela was left to wait, alone, for the tournament to start.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter

 

 

 

6

 

 

 

 

 

The gallery around her, as well as the one opposite, began quickly filling up with people. Gisela looked around for her stepmother and stepsisters. They weren’t sitting with Rainhilda. Perhaps Irma and Contzel had not been chosen to sit around the throne along with the most beautiful young maidens; she couldn’t say she was surprised, but she imagined how it must have irked Evfemia.

 

Gisela became bolder and craned her neck, trying to see on the other side of the throne, beyond the section that was roped off for the fairest of the maidens. In a moment, she spied Evfemia, Irma, and Contzel sitting not far from Rainhilda, but outside the center area.

 

Good. They were far enough away that they might not see her.

 

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