The Captive Maiden

He said no more as they entered rougher terrain now, and often their trail led them around small mountains, or down steep hillsides and back up again. They seemed to be following any path that kept them away from the roads. Ruexner must have been afraid of Valten’s men following them.

 

When they stopped to make camp, Gisela watched for an opportunity to talk to Valten. She found it when Ruexner and his men decided to build a fire against the chill of the evening air and cook the deer Malbert had killed with his crossbow.

 

“Do you think we’re close to Ruexner’s castle?”

 

“Two more days, maybe three,” he whispered back. His gaze lingered on her face.

 

“Listen.” He spoke quickly. “Tonight I want you to try to untie the rope around my wrists, and then I will watch for a chance to escape.”

 

Gisela nodded, her heart rising into her throat.

 

Ruexner yelled at them to stop talking, so she stepped away from him, trying not to look as excited as she felt.

 

As they all sat down to eat, they heard someone whistling on the trail nearby. Ruexner glanced at their fire, then at one of his men. “Go see who that is.”

 

The men put their hands to their swords, as if to make sure they were there, and Lew cautiously stalked toward the sound of whistling, then faint singing. It seemed to be coming toward them, coming quite close.

 

“A good evening to you!” a voice sang out.

 

“Don’t come any closer,” Lew warned.

 

Gisela couldn’t see the person through the dense trees but sensed that he was very close.

 

“My good man, I mean you no harm,” the cheerful, rather meek voice went on. “I am but a poor friar on a mission to encourage all men everywhere to repent and believe in the goodness of God. I smelled the smoke from your fire —”

 

“You’re not welcome here. Be gone.”

 

“Perhaps your companions would be interested in the saving message —”

 

“Be gone, I say!”

 

“As you wish, as you wish.” Through a small break in the leaves, a man in a friar’s robe and with a tonsured head passed by on a donkey. His eye darted her way, and she was sure he saw her. She opened her mouth to call out to the man. But what could a friar, undoubtedly unarmed, do to help them? She might get the poor man killed if she alerted him to their plight. So she closed her mouth and stayed quiet as he and his donkey continued out of sight.

 

As night fell, Gisela lay close to Valten again, and Lew was left to guard them. Valten faced away from the guard, and Gisela plucked at the knot that secured the rope around Valten’s wrists, working to loosen it while keeping her shoulders still. When Gisela didn’t seem to be making any progress, Valten began wriggling his hands, using his thumbs to push the ropes, trying to ease them off. Gisela tried to help him, but eventually went back to trying to loosen the knot.

 

Gisela kept glancing at Lew. He was whittling something, probably the same thing she’d seen him working on the first time he’d watched them. He didn’t seem to be paying them any attention. Gisela hoped she looked like she was asleep. Fortunately, she could see both Valten and the guard without opening her eyes too wide.

 

She forced her eyes open and realized she had dozed off. Lew was still whittling and Valten was still working quietly and with little movement, pulling at the ropes around his wrists. He had let her fall asleep.

 

She pinched her arm, hard, to force herself fully awake, then started trying to loosen the knot again.

 

“I can do it,” Valten whispered, so low she could barely hear him, even though she was only a few inches away. “Go back to sleep.”

 

“No, I can help.” She also wanted to stay awake so she could tell Valten when Lew fell asleep. In spite of the way he had reacted to her recent suggestions, she thought he would appreciate her help now.

 

Valten had made some progress, but the ropes now seemed to be stuck at the joint of his thumb due to the splint around his left hand. He shifted his focus toward trying to work the coils over his right hand. It was slow going, and she wasn’t sure he would be able to do it. If Ruexner caught him, he would no doubt go back to tying it so tight it turned his fingers purple and rubbed the skin off his wrist.

 

God, please don’t let him get caught. She was almost afraid to hope. God had saved her when she was locked in her room the day of the ball. She had begged for God’s help and he’d sent Ava’s servant boy, Lukas. Perhaps she only had to believe that he would help her again. She needed to have faith.

 

She had once seen a miracle play about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, who got thrown into the king of Babylon’s fiery furnace. They told the evil king that they believed God would save them from the fire. But even if he did not, they still would not worship the king’s false god.

 

Perhaps that was the kind of faith God required of her now.

 

I believe you will rescue me, God. But even if I don’t escape, please let Valten escape. He has a family who loves him.

 

Valten suddenly seemed close to getting his hand free. He kept pulling. She glanced at the guard, whose attention was still focused on his carving.

 

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