If only she could get away. If only God would send Valten. If only he would come in time!
They seemed to be moving from dirt to cobblestones, and then she was being lifted. A second set of hands grabbed her. She was transferred from one man to another, and for one brief moment, the hand let go of her mouth. She tried to scream, but her scream was muffled and hoarse. The second man’s hand clamped over her mouth, and she was lifted up onto what felt like a horse’s back. Someone was holding on to her, and the horse started forward, throwing her back against the rider. Other horses started moving at the same time and the same speed, their hooves clopping loudly on the cobblestone street.
Gisela clung to the pommel of the saddle, finding it hard to balance herself when she couldn’t see anything. They must be riding through Hagenheim. She tried to think of something she could do to stop the horse, to get away. She struggled and twisted but the man only held her tighter. Finally, she could think of nothing else to try.
Valten and his men, including some of his father’s best knights and trackers, rode through Hagenheim like the devil was at their heels, speeding through the dark, deserted streets. They headed for the east gate, which led outside the city by the southeast road. When they talked to the guard, Valten found he had guessed correctly; three horses carrying three men and a woman, who was sitting in front of one of the men, had ridden out just a few minutes before.
“What did the woman look like?” Valten yelled the words louder than necessary.
“I couldn’t see her face. There was something covering her head, I don’t know what. It was dark. But her dress was pale blue and glowed in the moonlight.”
Valten and his men urged their horses forward, through the gate and past the city wall. Ruexner was likely taking Gisela to his castle several days’ ride to the south. The men spread out to try to track which direction they went, while Valten and three of his best knights headed south.
They rode hard and fast for an hour, and then Valten caught a glimpse of them ahead. Ruexner was riding double, which meant his horse couldn’t go quite as fast. Valten would soon be upon him, and when more of Valten’s guards caught up to them, Ruexner would be outnumbered.
But could he afford to engage Ruexner and his men in a fight? Gisela might get hurt. And Ruexner wasn’t above threatening to kill her to keep Valten away.
Valten slowed his horse and motioned for his men to gather around. In a low voice, he said, “We will stay just behind Ruexner and his men, and when they stop to make camp, we will sneak in and attack, snatching Gisela away to safety. But for this to work, we can’t let Ruexner know we are so close behind him.”
But it was possible Ruexner had already spotted them. So, thinking ahead, Valten said, “If I am captured trying to save Gisela, you must not follow us or try to rescue me, but ride on ahead of him to his castle. Hartmann here knows where it is. If Ruexner does capture me, he will take us to his castle” — if he doesn’t kill me first — “and you can join with the rest of Father’s men and storm the castle.”
The men nodded their agreement, even though a few of them grumbled at not being allowed to rescue him if he were caught. They quickly spurred their mounts forward and resumed the chase.
Valten’s blood boiled at the thought of Ruexner holding Gisela, of him taking her by force, dragging her away from underneath Valten’s nose, from his own home. Ruexner had violated every code of chivalry in existence. He’d behaved without honor and didn’t deserve to be called a knight of the Holy Roman Empire. Valten would make sure the king heard of Ruexner’s dastardly conduct. And if he hurt Gisela in any way … Valten clenched his fists. As many times as he’d fought and jousted and crossed swords with opponents, he’d never felt such a killing rage before, so strong it was a fire that pounded in his ears and filled his mind with vengeful images. At the same time, the thought of Gisela suffering at Ruexner’s hands sent ice water through his veins, along with a stab of guilt. If Gisela should suffer pain and distress at Ruexner’s hands, it would be his fault. Ruexner had only taken her because of his hatred for Valten.
God, I must save her. I must not fail.
Gisela sensed the horse beneath her getting tired. The poor, poor horses. They’d been riding for a while, and Ruexner had not let up or slowed from their gallop. At least, she assumed it was Ruexner holding her. He had only spoken once, when he removed his hand from her mouth and growled in her ear, “If you scream, I’ll put a gag in your mouth.”
A few minutes later, Gisela tore the hood off her face and threw it down. She expected him to punish her, but he didn’t do anything.