Was she talking to Ruexner? Or to herself? If she wanted to escape unhappiness, she’d better start to care. That seemed to be the lesson God wanted to teach her.
Ruexner was staring hard at her as he seemed to be trying to decide what to say. “Your features are so much like my mother’s.” He shook his head. “She didn’t have your spirit, but she had the same look about her. It is too bad you are in love with Valten, because my greatest desire is to make him suffer. My father used to say, ‘In this life, a man must take what he wants. He’s a fool if he doesn’t.’ “
“You don’t have to live your father’s life. You can be your own person. Did your mother ever pray for you?” She asked that last question on a whim. Perhaps if she could remind him of his mother praying for him, he might feel some remorse for trying to force her to become his wife.
He spat on the ground near her foot. “You waste your time.” Turning away from her, he told his men, “Get ready. We’re leaving.”
Chapter
26
As Gisela was hauled into the saddle in front of Ruexner, she told herself she shouldn’t wonder if Valten was following them. She should assume he was not, that she wouldn’t see him until he showed up at Ruexner’s castle in two more days.
Her mind was constantly working to think of a way to escape from Ruexner. After an hour of riding, they drew near a town. Surrounded by his men, Ruexner boldly rode right through the middle of it.
There must be something she could do to escape. But if she jumped down off the horse, Ruexner would only drag her back. If she screamed and begged the townspeople, who were milling about, to save her from this man who had taken her against her will, would they help her? After all, what could they do against Ruexner and his armed men?
She looked around at the faces of the people. None of them made eye contact with her. A few looked curiously at them, but then looked away, and she guessed that Ruexner had glared at them and intimidated them into losing their curiosity. They soon reached a gray stone church on the edge of town, and at the front stood a large, square tower watching over the church and the town like a sentinel. Ruexner rode straight up to the high, circular steps that led up to massive wooden doors, and he dismounted.
“Why are we stopping here?” Gisela demanded.
Without even looking at her, he reached up and grabbed her around the waist and pulled her off the horse. He practically dragged her up the steps of the stone cathedral.
“What are you doing?” Her voice sounded a bit hysterical. “Where are you taking me?” She purposely made her voice loud so anyone nearby could hear her. “I won’t marry you!”
“Quiet,” Ruexner growled, as he opened the door with one hand and dragged her inside.
Valten followed Ruexner and his men as they entered a town. Why would Ruexner be so bold? He was up to something, so Valten closed in, not worrying about being seen, as he could get lost in the milling townspeople on the street.
Valten got closer until he was only a hundred feet behind Ruexner and his men. Gisela looked pale and frightened as Ruexner rode straight up to the town’s cathedral. Valten’s heart contracted in his chest.
Ruexner pulled Gisela off the horse, and by the time he was pulling her up the steps and inside the church, Valten had closed half the distance between them.
If Friar Daniel had to go all the way to Hagenheim to get help, then the soonest he could expect his father’s knights was tomorrow or the next day. But he couldn’t wait for them. He had to do something now.
Gisela blinked, trying to focus her eyes in the dim light. Torches flickered along the two walls that led back to an altar and baptismal font. Candles lit up the altar, but she didn’t see anyone.
“Where is the priest?” Ruexner shouted, sending an echo through the high-ceilinged nave. “Anyone here?”
They listened, but heard nothing.
“No one is here,” Gisela said, hoping he would leave, afraid she knew too well why he was looking for a priest.
“We shall wait.”
Gisela racked her brain for a way of escape. But Ruexner’s fingers were like iron bands around her arm, and she had no weapon, nothing within reach.
Finally, a dark figure appeared, emerging from the confessional along one wall.
“You there,” Ruexner called. “I require to speak with Bishop Fulco.”
The figure moved slowly, as if unmoved by Ruexner’s urgent shout. He wore a long dark robe with a hood covering his head and shading his entire face. When he reached them, he quietly asked, “May I help you?”
“Where is Bishop Fulco?” Ruexner demanded gruffly. He held Gisela so tight to his side that she could feel his hip bone painfully kneading her side.
“Bishop Fulco is not here,” the unperturbed voice answered. “May I assist you in some way?”