The friar looked perturbed, his brows drawn together and his eyes misty. “Hagenheim? … I think so.”
“Go there and tell them I sent you — Valten Gerstenberg, Earl of Hamlin. Ask to speak to Duke Wilhelm. Tell him to send an army, as many soldiers as he can muster, and come after Ruexner, who is on his way to his castle in Bruchen. I will follow that fiend and do my best to make sure he doesn’t harm Gisela.”
The friar started wiping his face with his sleeve. “I must say, I am glad. I was wondrous sorry for the girl.”
“Go. Ride as fast as you can.”
Valten urged Sieger after Ruexner and his men — and Gisela. He turned back to Friar Daniel, who was nudging his donkey into a trot. Thank you.
Someday Valten would thank the friar properly. Now he had to do what he could to get to Gisela. He’d do anything to get her back safely, but the most important thing he could do was pray and believe that, even though he was wounded, broken, exhausted, and desperate, God was strong. God, help me. Help Gisela.
The way Valten had pulled her away from him and handed her over to Ruexner haunted Gisela. Of course, he didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t defeat twenty men. But no matter how often she repeated Valten’s whispered words — “I will come for you. Trust me. Trust me” — being torn away from him had felt horrible. She feared being at Ruexner’s mercy again, after escaping from him. Besides, Valten would risk his life again, would suffer pain, danger, and exhaustion to save her. Her greatest fear was that he wouldn’t survive this time — or that he wouldn’t think she was worth what he would have to go through to save her.
Always before, if something brought a pain to her heart, she could say, I don’t care. Even if she did care, saying she didn’t lessened the pain. But it was too blatant a lie where Valten was concerned. She did care, very much, and if she ever got another chance to tell him, she would. She would tell him she loved him. If he was still willing to marry her, she would marry him. And if what he wanted was love and complete devotion, he wouldn’t be sorry for marrying her.
But would she ever get a chance?
Valten stayed far enough back that he never saw Ruexner or his men, only followed their easy-to-read trail. After riding for several hours, staying alert for any sign of either Ruexner’s men or his own, Valten’s shoulders ached, the pain encompassing the base of his skull. His eyes burned and he found himself losing his balance, but the memory of Gisela on Ruexner’s horse and the terror on her face kept him going, kept him pushing himself, punishing himself for failing to evade Ruexner. How had the man found him? He must have met up with an expert tracker. No doubt the devil was on his side. But God, aren’t you supposed to be on my side?
Until now, he had depended more on himself than God.
Valten took a deep breath, tamping down the frustration that threatened to take over his thoughts. He rubbed the back of his neck, then ran his hand over his eyes. After riding all night, and now all morning, he had to stay awake. He couldn’t fail Gisela. He had to get her back. It was all his fault Ruexner had kidnapped her, and was using her to exact his revenge. He’d never be able to live with himself if he failed her.
The memory came rushing back, of lying in bed with a broken leg while his little brother, Gabe, rescued Valten’s betrothed. It was as if his careless little brother, who never had a serious, responsible thought in his life until he ran off to rescue Sophie, had bested him again.
But his desire to not let his little brother make him look bad didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered except saving Gisela. This was not about Valten looking like a hero. It was about relying on God to save the woman he loved.
Gisela, with her soft voice, perfect lips, and her beautiful blue eyes … “God, please. You can’t let her suffer at Ruexner’s hands. Please help me save her.”
What had his life meant? All his success, all the tournaments he’d won … they were like dust and ashes. Meaningless. Without Gisela, his life was meaningless.
By the time the sun sank behind the trees, Gisela was so weary she could barely keep her eyes open. There were moments she even forgot where she was, as the horse’s constant, jostling gait lulled her into something akin to sleep.
When they finally stopped to make camp for the night, Gisela let Ruexner lift her off the saddle. But when her feet touched the ground, her legs wouldn’t hold her up, and she crumpled to the ground, too exhausted to stand. What did it matter anyway? Maybe Ruexner would leave her where she lay.
Hands grabbed her under her arms and lifted her up, then slid under her knees. She found herself being picked up and carried.
She decided not to bother even opening her eyes, as long as he didn’t try to molest her. Soon, she felt herself being lowered to the ground. Moments later, a warm blanket was spread over her. She never opened her eyes, but let herself drift away.