“Yes, my lord.”
As the guard walked away, Valten turned to find Gisela. She was not where he had left her. He looked around but she didn’t appear to be anywhere in the room. Perhaps she had left with Margaretha.
He growled under his breath. Would she leave without telling him? During the ball?
He didn’t want to act like a worried nursemaid. She was probably with his sister and they had gone to the garderobe.
“Dance with me.” Rainhilda was at his elbow, smiling up at him. “It is a ball, after all. Aren’t we supposed to dance?”
He was supposed to be dancing with Gisela. He wanted to be dancing with her. But where was she?
He shook his head at Rainhilda. Just then he noticed another guard striding in and walking quickly toward his father, who was at the other end of the room. “You will excuse me.” Valten started toward his father and the guard. “What?” He got their attention as he approached.
Father’s look was grim as the guard said, “The soldier guarding the castle gate was found knocked senseless from a blow to the head. We are rallying our men to surround the castle and look for intruders.”
Gisela. Was it a coincidence he suddenly couldn’t find her?
Just then, a few more guards entered the Great Hall. They stationed themselves at the doors, making the ladies gasp and a frightened murmur break out among the guests.
“Gisela is missing.” His hand went to his hip again out of habit, looking for his sword.
“Missing?” His father looked quite dangerous, as dangerous as Valten felt. He needed his sword. Just then a servant boy walked past with an empty platter. “You. Fetch my squire and tell him to bring me my sword. Then go to the stable and have my horse saddled and ready.”
“Yes, my lord!” The boy ran off.
“She was standing over there” — he nodded at the other side of the room — “talking to Margaretha a few minutes ago. Now they’re both gone.”
Father pointed at the guard. “Get three trusted men and have them scour the castle for Margaretha and Gisela.”
“Yes, your grace.” The guard barely took time to nod before hurrying off.
“Let’s check the west door.” Father headed toward the door Gisela had been standing near the last time Valten had seen her. Valten walked briskly by his father’s side, then broke into a run. The guard moved aside to let him pass.
Holding the door open, he looked around. His father came up beside him.
“These torches on the wall should be lighted.”
“There’s something on the floor over there.” His father pointed several feet down the corridor.
Valten walked over and picked it up. The guard came back with a lighted torch. “It’s a shoe.” A woman’s shoe of white leather. A surge of energy went through Valten. “I think it’s Gisela’s.”
“My lord, I have your sword.” His squire’s voice broke through the haze of rage that had settled in his head. He brushed past his father, took the sword and scabbard, and fastened them around his waist as he walked.
“Ruexner will pay dearly for this,” Valten promised, speaking to no one in particular, but imagining he had the fiend’s neck between his hands. If he dared hurt Gisela …
He started running down the corridor that led outside.
Chapter
18
Gisela struggled to stay conscious, but the cloth bag was clinging to her nose. She managed to get a hand free and pulled the cloth away from her nose so she could breathe.
The man dragged her feet along the ground. She’d lost both her shoes by now—Ava’s beautiful shoes — and the man was holding her around her shoulders, his hand tight over her mouthlips, his other hand gripping her arm.
She struggled but he only gripped her tighter. She tried to drive her elbow into his side, but the way he was holding her, her elbow couldn’t reach.
It was useless. He was much stronger than she was. Her only chance would be to get turned around so she could knee him where it would really hurt, or punch him in the throat.
Behind them she heard men’s voices. She tried to make as much noise as she could, but with being hoarse, and the cloth bag and the man’s hand firmly clamped over her mouth, the sound was so muffled she doubted they heard her.
Her captor dragged her over rocks. She lifted her feet completely off the ground, hoping to slow him down by forcing him to carry all her weight. But he seemed to move faster, not slower.
She pulled at the man’s hand, trying to dislodge it so she could scream, but in response he dug his fingers harder into her cheeks, until the pain was almost unbearable and she was afraid he would break her jawbone.
She stopped clawing at his hand and settled for holding the bag away from her nose so she could breathe.