The Captive Maiden

“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.

 

She 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.”

 

Melanie Dickerson's books