The Captive Maiden

Chapter



24





Riding with Ruexner, Gisela had taken pains to try to avoid touching him as much as possible. The heat of his chest had made her feel clammy and disgusted. Even though he had behaved well and had not taken any liberties, she’d hated the feel of his arms around her as he held the reins, or put his arm around her waist to make sure she didn’t fall or try to get away.

But riding with Valten was a completely different experience. His warmth was reassuring. The feel of his muscular arms around her as he held the reins and guided the horse made her feel safe. He had said he wanted to marry her, and he had seemed about to kiss her more than once, so he must at least have some feelings for her. She wanted his love so desperately it was terrifying, but she was afraid to hope. After all, even her own stepmother and stepsisters didn’t love her. It would be safer, and less painful, if she could stop herself from caring whether or not Valten loved her.

They stayed off the main road, traveling under cover of the trees whenever possible. Gisela prayed they wouldn’t encounter Ruexner. She chose to believe Ruexner had missed their trail, that he had gone the wrong direction and was wandering around and would soon give up and go home.

After an hour or two of traveling, she allowed herself to rest her cheek against Valten’s chest and close her eyes.



Gisela couldn’t be thinking as much about kissing him as he thought about kissing her or she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. With her in his arms, he was too restless to think about anything but her.

He had never felt this way before. He always assumed if he fell in love with a girl, she would naturally love him too. What made a girl fall in love? What could he do to make Gisela love him? He had no idea, and that complete lack of knowledge about women made him feel like he’d been punched in the stomach.

He was used to feeling powerful, to having the upper hand. But with Gisela, he often felt vulnerable. He knew he wasn’t particularly handsome, with his short hair and scars. Some children at one of his tournaments in Burgundy had taken to calling him “Goliath.” Not the most endearing biblical character. And though he’d had many women openly offer themselves to him, he’d never been interested in their brazen advances.


The truth was, he had no experience with women. He had no idea what they wanted. All his expertise was in fighting. He knew how to command men of every age and status, he knew how to relate to horses and men, but women? He knew nothing.

He tried to think about his sisters, the kinds of things they responded to. Certainly they were gentler than his brothers, and they became angry when someone treated them roughly or disrespectfully.

How had he treated Gisela the last few days? Had he been gentle and respectful? She had seemed to like it when he caressed her hand and kissed her forehead. At least she hadn’t pushed him away, and he had been gathering his courage to truly kiss her when Friar Daniel had appeared and spoiled it.

His sisters also seemed to expect compliments. They often called the rest of the family’s attention to a new dress or a new way of doing their hair, hoping for flattering remarks. When they received them, they were happy. When their brothers teased them, they grew angry.

Since Valten would much prefer Gisela smiling at him than scowling, he tried to think of ways he could compliment her. He had told her once that she was beautiful; he distinctly remembered that. So she already knew he thought she was beautiful. He didn’t need to tell her that again, did he? What other compliments were there? She was beautiful. What else could he say?

She was fierce. He had admired her tremendously when she’d jumped on Ruexner and started beating him with her fists. But he had already told her he thought she was brave.

He thought of his father and mother, who had a happy relationship. What had his father done to make his mother happy, to win her over and make her love him? His father had told a story of how he and his men had rescued his mother from an evil conjurer. He had also seen his father kiss his mother whenever he returned after being away, even if he had only been gone a few hours. Valten had tried to kiss Gisela, but so far they’d always been interrupted. But she had understood his intention to kiss her, hadn’t she?

But perhaps kissing was more of a married thing. He was sure Friar Daniel thought so.

And then there was his younger brother, Gabe. Every maiden in the region seemed to love him. Even though he was married now and had no interest in their flirtations, in the past they had all smiled at him whenever they saw him, batted their eyelashes at him, and tried to talk to him. Gisela had never done that around Valten. Did that mean she didn’t like him?

What was it about Gabe that drew pretty girls like moths to a flame? Valten had always thought it was his good looks and his glib way of talking. When Gabe was still unmarried, maidens seemed to love the way he could always think of something to say, something clever and charming. It had annoyed Valten. True chivalry was being able to fight for your woman, to protect her. But Gabe seemed to inherit all the talk, and Valten seemed to get all the fight. Girls liked talk more, apparently, because the only ones who seemed interested in Valten were the ones who wanted the status of being the future duchess of Hagenheim.

These thoughts were not improving his mood. Although it was pleasant to have Gisela fall asleep on his chest, he was even less confident now that he could make Gisela fall in love with him. He wasn’t handsome or a smooth talker like Gabe. Friar Daniel wouldn’t let him kiss her. He was doing his best to rescue her but had yet to accomplish it. And he’d already told Gisela she was beautiful. What else could he do?

Valten groaned inwardly when the friar came sidling up to him. A sliver of light snaked through the trees and shone on his face, lighting up that perpetual smile on his face.

Valten scowled at him, hoping he would not wake up Gisela.

“Good knight,” Friar Daniel began, and Valten cringed at his loud voice. “I can’t help noticing that you scowl a lot. Do you have peace in your life? Because God offers us all peace, in addition to eternal salvation.”

Aggravated at his question, Valten thought about just letting the silence stretch and not answering the friar, but Friar Daniel would probably just ask again. “No, at this moment I don’t have peace.” How could he have peace when a madman was chasing them and Gisela was not safe?

Gisela lay relaxed and still against his chest as Sieger and Friar Daniel’s mule picked their way over rocks and around trees, not making very good time as they rode a safe distance from, but parallel to, the road.

“That is a common problem I have found among noblemen.” Friar Daniel nodded soberly. “The solution is to cast your burdens on Jesus and let him give you his peace.”

The friar’s words did not apply to Valten’s situation at all. “I will have peace when I can get Gisela safely back to Hagenheim.”

“But that is exactly the reason you don’t have peace. You are trusting your own strength to get the lady to safety. You must entrust her to God, who is the One who will ultimately make us safe, if we are to be safe.”

What kind of reasoning was that? But in his heart, Valten knew the friar was right. He had felt, almost since he met Gisela, that God was trying to humble him, to make him realize he should be asking for God’s help and trusting in His strength instead of his own. Perhaps that was what the Bible meant when it said, “When I am weak, then I am strong.” His tutor had made him memorize that passage of Scripture when he was younger, about delighting in weaknesses and difficulties. It had never made sense to him before.

Friar Daniel was quiet.

If God wanted him to humble himself, he supposed he must start with admitting to the friar that he was right. “I have been trusting too much in my own strength. But if I live to see Gisela safe and justice done to Ruexner, it will be because of you, friar.”

“Not because of me. It is because of God.” He smiled his nonjudgmental, cheerful smile.

“You are right. The Bible says it is God who rescues us from the hand of wicked.”

“This is true. And where did you hear this Scripture?”

“I’ve read the Bible for myself.”

“Ah! You are indeed knowledgeable, then! God says, ‘My people perish for lack of knowledge,’ but you, brother knight, shall not perish, but have eternal life.”

After a short pause, the friar went on. “I have been roaming the Holy Roman Empire telling as many people as I can that God is good and faithful and will forgive us if we repent. You are one of the few people I don’t have to convince.”

“Our priests in Hagenheim teach this.”

The friar grinned. “Glory to God!”

Valten couldn’t deny that the man seemed truly joyful and at peace with the life he had chosen, wandering about, telling strangers to repent and believe in God’s goodness. When was the last time Valten felt joyful, at peace, and as if his life had purpose? Two tournaments ago? Five? Ten? He couldn’t remember.

I will discover a new purpose for my life. Valten spoke the words in his spirit, determined to start anew. As soon as he made it back to Hagenheim, he would start learning more about governing and leading and negotiating. He’d fight a new battle, but a more peaceful one. Perhaps he would build a new castle, atop a hill, where he and Gisela would live and raise their children. Perhaps then he would feel at peace, would find new purpose and joy.

Only … Gisela hadn’t agreed to marry him yet.



Gisela heard voices as she drifted in and out of sleep. Friar Daniel was talking. Every time Valten answered him, his chest rumbled beneath her ear, quite pleasantly. She felt him sigh. Did he not like what Friar Daniel was saying? She tried to pay closer attention, pretending to still be asleep so she could continue relaxing against Valten’s heavenly warm chest.


“You, brother knight, shall not perish, but have eternal life.”

Valten must have said something that pleased Friar Daniel. Gisela was glad. She enjoyed talking with the friar, but she sensed Valten didn’t like his questions.

Valten was a man of action, but few words.

Not so Friar Daniel. He began regaling Valten again with stories of people he had given his message to, of people who rejected him, some who mistreated him, and some who gratefully accepted his words, invited him to stay and teach them more, and eventually sent him on his way with extra food and supplies.

Gisela felt bad for eavesdropping and pretending to be asleep, but she was enjoying the softness of Valten’s tunic against her face and his familiar scent—she breathed in deeply — filling her senses.

She sat forward and rubbed her eyes. A sound in the distance, like thunder, grew louder. No, not thunder. Horses’ hooves.

The noise was in front of them, behind them, everywhere. They were soon surrounded by men on horseback. Valten’s arms went taut as he gripped the reins.

Ruexner rode right up in front of them, grinning his gap-toothed sneer.

“Thought you could escape from me, did you?” Ruexner laughed.

Gisela’s heart sank. Not again.