The Captive Maiden

Chapter



17





Valten’s hand tightened around Gisela arm, and he grunted in frustration. He brushed his finger over her cheek and whispered, “We will continue this conversation later.”

“Yes, my lord.” The mischievous twinkle in her eye almost made him kiss her anyway, even though Rainhilda was staring at them from the Great Hall door. Half the crowd of guests were craning their necks to see through the door Rainhilda was holding open.

He released Gisela and held out his arm to her.

“Your poor hand,” Gisela said softly, for his ears alone, and lightly touched his bandage. “Is it broken?”

“Just one bone.”

She looked up at him, her blue eyes wide. “I’m sorry you were hurt by that brute.”

“You are the one who was in danger. I thank God for keeping you safe.” And he meant it, as gratitude to God welled up inside him. He couldn’t bear to think what could have happened to her if Ruexner had gotten there a minute sooner. “I wish I had been there to save you.”

But they couldn’t speak of that now. The guests were all looking at them, waiting for them to come inside.

Well, he would share her, but only for a little while. When the ball was over, he would make sure she slept inside the castle tonight, with his sister Margaretha. In fact, he might just make sure she never left the castle.

He didn’t intend for her to ever be without protection again.

Gisela placed her hand on his arm and they walked together toward the door of the Great Hall.



A pleasant warmth seeped through her, as she could almost feel Valten’s arms still around her and his chest against her cheek. She walked by his side through the Great Hall door, and the entire hall erupted in applause. Valten led her to the middle of the floor, then turned and bowed to her. “All hail Queen Gisela.”

Gisela felt gratified and embarrassed at the same time. By tomorrow the tournament and its festivities would be over and she wouldn’t be anyone’s queen, but it was fun to see the smiles on people’s faces and their willingness to go along with the charade. They all bowed and seemed in a joyous mood — until her gaze settled on Rainhilda, whose eyes were throwing daggers.


Gisela didn’t care. Valten was paying attention to her, was happy to call her his queen, and that was enough to drive out any unhappy thought.

The music began again, and Valten didn’t have to say a word. They lined up facing each other. Gisela hoped she would know the steps. Though it was unfamiliar, the dance was slow, and she watched the other dancers and followed their lead. Valten led her carefully, so she made it through without too many missteps.

Valten’s eyes never left her. And in her heart, she believed her stepmother had been wrong. From the way he was looking at her now, his marrying her didn’t seem so farfetched.

The next dance was a round in which she had to hold Valten’s wrist, since his hand was bandaged. His arm brushed hers as the circle became tighter, and he twirled her around with his right hand. Even with a broken hand, he looked more powerful than any other man in the room.

The dance ended, and as everyone else applauded, Valten brushed his shoulder against hers and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You are beautiful.”

She managed to say, “Thank you.” He was so close she could see the shadow of facial hair on his jaw, the tiny scars, and the serious glint in his eye that contrasted with the slight upturn of his lips.

Out of the corner of her eye, she couldn’t help noticing all the people staring at them.

She smiled playfully at Valten, trying to lighten the mood — for her own sake as well as for all those watching them. “I love dancing with you, but may I get something to drink?”

Valten led her to a table filled with all kinds of food and drink, and she remembered she hadn’t eaten all day, except for some cheese and bread Ava gave her while the servants did her hair.

A servant filled a tankard from a pitcher of red liquid and handed it to her. He filled another for Valten.

Valten stood at her elbow, partially blocking her view of the rest of the hall. He leaned his head toward hers. “My father’s men are searching for Ruexner, and I want you to spend the night with Margaretha.”

Gisela nodded. “Thank you.” She was humbled, first by the fact that she now had no home and nowhere to go, and then by the thought that since her stepmother had taken money from Ruexner, some would say she rightfully belonged to him. They would say she must marry him.

He must have seen the troubled look on her face, because he moved closer. “And your stepmother is spending the night in the dungeon.”

The thought of her stepmother in a dungeon didn’t fill her with joy, as she might have thought it would. Instead, she felt sadness and relief, mingled with anger.

Trying to banish the picture of her stepmother in a dank, dark dungeon, she sipped her drink, letting the liquid soothe her parched throat. She was still hoarse from the yelling and screaming through her chamber window that morning.

She heard footsteps a moment before Margaretha bounced around Valten’s side and threw her arms around Gisela — but carefully, so as not to spill her drink.

“I am so happy you’re here! We were afraid something had happened. We waited for you all day. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell your stepmother you couldn’t go with her, that I needed you to stay with me. You didn’t tell me she was cruel to you. Valten was so worried.” Margaretha glanced up at her brother. “Valten, why don’t you go … walk over there for one minute while I talk to Gisela.” She shooed him away with her hand.

Valten stared down at his sister and raised his eyebrows at her. “One minute is all you get. Gisela wants to dance.”

“Yes, yes, be assured, she’ll dance the very next dance with you. Now go.”

Valten’s gaze lingered on Gisela before quaffing the rest of his drink and walking away.

“I’m sorry, Gisela, but I wanted to talk with you, and I knew Valten would get irritated with our girl talk. Your dress is divine.” She took a step back to get a better look at it. “And that icy-blue color makes your eyes sparkle — oh my! And your hair is so lovely.” She gave her another quick hug. “I hope you can stay with me tonight and forever. We could end up as sisters, maybe very soon!”

Did she mean she thought Valten would marry her? No, she probably was only talking about what Valten had said about her staying at the castle. She wanted to ask Margaretha to tell her more about Valten, but their little sister, Adela, came up behind her, crying. The nursemaid shook her head apologetically at Margaretha. “I’m afraid she’s overtired and says she won’t go to sleep unless you come and sing her a song.”

“Oh, of course, my little liebchen.” Margaretha cupped her little sister’s cheek, then turned back to Gisela. “I must go, but it’s just as well. Valten isn’t known for his patience.” Then her expression changed. “Not to say that he can’t be patient, but I know he wants to be with you, and if we make him wait too long he won’t be happy. I shall return soon!” She waved at Gisela then took her little sister’s hand and hurried off with her and the nursemaid.

Gisela looked around and saw Valten talking with a guard — clearly not one of the guests, as he had on partial armor and a sword at his hip. Not wishing to interrupt him, Gisela drank some more of her spiced wine and water, then put the tankard down on the table. She started to walk over to look at the fresco painted on the wall, but before she could note much more than a couple of knights on horseback and ladies in pink and blue and green gowns, someone tapped her on the shoulder.

Rainhilda stood just behind her, her eyes wide and solemn. “Pardon me, Gisela? Is that your name?” She scrunched her face as if it pained her to utter it. “Your sister Irma is upset and crying. Won’t you please talk to her? She’s over there.” She gestured to the doorway to her left.

Gisela turned her head toward the darkened corridor where Rainhilda pointed. A girl was crying into her hands. She looked up and locked eyes with Gisela.

Irma. Gisela’s stomach twisted. The last thing she wanted to feel was pity for her stepsister.

“Gisela, please come and help Contzel.” Irma sniffed, wiping her face with a handkerchief. “She’s thinking of doing harm to herself.”

“What can I do?” Gisela felt a stab of pity in spite of herself. Contzel had never been as cruel to her as Irma and Evfemia. She had gone along with her mother and stepsister, but Gisela had sometimes wondered if she would have been a kind person if it had not been for them.

“She’s wracked with guilt and wishes she had talked mother out of selling you to Ruexner. She thinks you could never forgive us for what we did.”

“I don’t hold any grudge against Contzel.”

“Please, won’t you tell her that yourself? Perhaps she won’t do herself harm if you will only tell her you forgive her.”

Gisela glanced over her shoulder. Rainhilda had disappeared and Valten was still talking with the guard and wasn’t looking her way. She probably should have someone come with her. However, she didn’t want anyone being privy to the conversation she was about to have with Contzel, where she forgave her for any involvement in selling her to Ruexner, trapping her in her chamber, and all the myriad of things they had done to her over the years, not least of which was forcing her to work as their servant.

Gisela looked from Irma to Valten and back again. “Where is she? I shouldn’t leave the Great Hall.”

“She’s just inside the corridor.” Irma started crying again. “She’s all I have left, now that Mother is …” She sobbed rather loudly before blubbering, “In the dungeon.”


Her tears seemed more real than any she’d seen her cry before. “All right. But I can’t be gone long.”

Gisela stepped through the doorway into the darkened corridor. Why was it so dark? Someone should light the torch in the wall sconce. “Where did you say Contzel was?”

Irma let the door close behind them. The back of Gisela’s neck prickled. Her heart began to pound. Something was amiss. Irma was trying to trick her, she was sure, but before she could voice her alarm, someone threw something over Gisela’s face. A hand clamped over her mouth as she tried to scream. Biting fingers dug into her arms. She kicked but lost her footing and felt herself being dragged down the corridor, away from the ball and away from Valten.



“We are still searching for Ruexner, but there’s no sign of him,” the soldier told Valten. “We’re questioning people as well. So far no one has seen him.”

“Keep all guards on the search, except for the ones guarding the castle.”

“Yes, my lord.”

As the guard walked away, Valten turned to find Gisela. She was not where he had left her. He looked around but she didn’t appear to be anywhere in the room. Perhaps she had left with Margaretha.

He growled under his breath. Would she leave without telling him? During the ball?

He didn’t want to act like a worried nursemaid. She was probably with his sister and they had gone to the garderobe.

“Dance with me.” Rainhilda was at his elbow, smiling up at him. “It is a ball, after all. Aren’t we supposed to dance?”

He was supposed to be dancing with Gisela. He wanted to be dancing with her. But where was she?

He shook his head at Rainhilda. Just then he noticed another guard striding in and walking quickly toward his father, who was at the other end of the room. “You will excuse me.” Valten started toward his father and the guard. “What?” He got their attention as he approached.

Father’s look was grim as the guard said, “The soldier guarding the castle gate was found knocked senseless from a blow to the head. We are rallying our men to surround the castle and look for intruders.”

Gisela. Was it a coincidence he suddenly couldn’t find her?

Just then, a few more guards entered the Great Hall. They stationed themselves at the doors, making the ladies gasp and a frightened murmur break out among the guests.

“Gisela is missing.” His hand went to his hip again out of habit, looking for his sword.

“Missing?” His father looked quite dangerous, as dangerous as Valten felt. He needed his sword. Just then a servant boy walked past with an empty platter. “You. Fetch my squire and tell him to bring me my sword. Then go to the stable and have my horse saddled and ready.”

“Yes, my lord!” The boy ran off.

“She was standing over there” — he nodded at the other side of the room — “talking to Margaretha a few minutes ago. Now they’re both gone.”

Father pointed at the guard. “Get three trusted men and have them scour the castle for Margaretha and Gisela.”

“Yes, your grace.” The guard barely took time to nod before hurrying off.

“Let’s check the west door.” Father headed toward the door Gisela had been standing near the last time Valten had seen her. Valten walked briskly by his father’s side, then broke into a run. The guard moved aside to let him pass.

Holding the door open, he looked around. His father came up beside him.

“These torches on the wall should be lighted.”

“There’s something on the floor over there.” His father pointed several feet down the corridor.

Valten walked over and picked it up. The guard came back with a lighted torch. “It’s a shoe.” A woman’s shoe of white leather. A surge of energy went through Valten. “I think it’s Gisela’s.”

“My lord, I have your sword.” His squire’s voice broke through the haze of rage that had settled in his head. He brushed past his father, took the sword and scabbard, and fastened them around his waist as he walked.

“Ruexner will pay dearly for this,” Valten promised, speaking to no one in particular, but imagining he had the fiend’s neck between his hands. If he dared hurt Gisela …

He started running down the corridor that led outside.