Gisela gradually awakened, wondering why her bed had grown so hard. She had replaced the straw in the mattress not long ago; it should be softer than this. One particularly prickly piece of straw was jabbing her hip. She rolled over on her side, but something felt different. She opened her eyes and realized she was sleeping on the ground outside, surrounded by sleeping men.
Then it all came back to her.
Was Valten following them? Or would he go to Ruexner’s castle to fight Ruexner in two more days? God, please help him get his men first, then come and defeat Ruexner and rescue me. She wouldn’t even pray that she would not have to marry Ruexner. She would just believe she would get away.
She trusted that Valten was coming for her. He might even come alone, and she couldn’t let him be killed. She had to find a way to escape her captors herself, to keep Valten from getting recaptured or hurt.
An owl hooted in the darkness, somewhere hidden in the dark forest. It was still night, and the sound of snores and heavy breathing was all around her. As she looked around, her watchman stared back at her, wide awake. No chance that he would fall asleep any time soon. So she let herself drift back to sleep.
The next morning, with the sun spreading the first vestiges of light over the dark forest, Gisela sat up. Ruexner and his men were milling about. A man with a deep scar on his upper lip, which cut a line all the way to the outer corner of his eye, stood propped against a tree, watching her with narrowed eyes.
She’d have to stay alert and wait for a better chance to escape. This oaf wouldn’t let her get away. Perhaps if she pretended to be docile and scared, some guard would get careless and give her an opportunity. But with this many men around, she needed to think of a clever plan.
Ruexner walked over, approaching cautiously.
Gisela purposely held back the defiance she was feeling and stared at him blank-faced. He might not be such an ugly man if he was not always sneering and behaving like a brute. He was not at all handsome compared to Valten, but she was sure the man didn’t have to kidnap a woman to get a bride. He was a baron, with a castle and most likely a great number of vassals and servants in his ancestral town of Bruchen. Perhaps Gisela could reason with him.
While he was eyeing her, she decided to give it a try. “I am sure there are many maidens — very pretty and sweet ones — in Bruchen who would be happy to marry you. Why would you want to force me to marry you? I have no fortune, lands, or title.”
“Don’t you know, my dear? I want to marry you for one simple reason — for revenge.” His smile was cold. “Besides, you remind me of my mother. She had the same shade of hair and eyes as you.”
“So I am only a pawn in your game.”
He did not deny it, and she felt heat creep up the back of her neck as anger rose up within her. “I won’t marry you.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have no choice.”
“You cannot marry me without my consent.”
“Do you think I can’t find a priest who will marry us against your will if I tell him to? It will not be so hard.”
Gisela forced herself to push away her anger and think rationally. “What will your people and your family say when you bring an unwilling bride to your castle? I will not go with you calmly. I will scream and tell everyone that you have taken me against my will.”
“And I will say that you are a peasant, and that I paid for you fairly, which is the truth. No one will question my right to marry you.” He stepped even closer and ran a finger down her cheek. “Besides, my father took my mother against her will and married her. Over time she came to accept her place as his wife. She bore two sons and one daughter before she died. In time you will come to accept your role as the Baroness of Bruchen.”
“I shall never accept you.” Gisela actually felt sorry for this man. Pity and outrage warred inside her as she stared at his weatherworn, battle-scarred face. “I’m sorry your father gave you such a bad example, but I assure you … I love Valten and I cannot love anyone else. I will never accept a life with you.”
“Perhaps, perhaps not.” The sneer came back, curling his lip, but he made no threatening moves.
“Don’t you wish your father had cared about your mother’s happiness?”
“If he’d cared about her happiness, she wouldn’t have been my mother.”
In spite of her efforts to stay calm, Gisela huffed. “Don’t you have any fear of God?”
“Why should I fear someone I’ve never seen?”
“Just because your father didn’t respect God doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. If you want to escape damnation and unhappiness in this life, you’d better start to care.”