The Captive Maiden

Chapter



2





He should look like your horse, Gisela almost said. The two are brothers. But it was best she didn’t tell him. He wouldn’t remember her, wouldn’t recall that it was her father who had sold him the horse ten years ago — and had been dead almost that many years.

Valten — Lord Hamlin — followed her. But Gisela pretended not to notice, hoping to disguise how seeing him thrilled her and made her heart pound.

It was evident she was a stranger to him, though she would have recognized him even if that disgusting foreign knight hadn’t called him “Valten Gerstenberg.” His hair was shorter than she remembered and was more of a dark blond. He bore numerous small scars on his face, and his nose was crooked, no doubt from being broken in one of his many jousting tournaments. But his ruggedness, his height and breadth and confident swagger—even his scars — only added to his appeal. And the way he had come to her aid, the kindness and respect that shone from his eyes when he looked at her, made him the most handsome man she had ever seen.

And he’d not been the least afraid of that bully he called Ruexner.

She, on the other hand, had been terrified when the man blocked her way, though she knew better than to show fear. Spitting fire and giving a man the evil eye usually intimidated him enough that he kept his distance. But this man had two large friends to embolden him.

When Valten appeared by her side, she was so relieved — and thrilled just seeing him—that her knees went weak. But she was also unnerved by her reaction. The response made her feel vulnerable, and she hated feeling vulnerable. So she kept walking, never turning back, when all she really wanted to do was look at him and ask him what his life had been like the past nine years — what he had been doing while she’d been dreaming about him in her desolate room, staring out her cold window and wondering where he was.

She could hear and sense him behind her as she approached the blacksmith’s. Did he want to talk to her? What could he possibly want to say? Even if he remembered her as that little girl from so long ago, he certainly hadn’t thought about her the way she’d thought about him. Besides that, she was a nobody now, disowned by her stepmother and stepsisters and without family of any kind.

The blacksmith, a burly man covered in soot, turned from his forge as she walked up.

Gisela forced any sign of emotion from her face and focused on her task. “My horse has thrown a shoe. How long to get him fitted with another?”

“One hour. This one’s ahead of you.” He pointed to a palfrey standing patiently on the tether.

After haggling a price with him, she lifted her arm to take the money from her moneybag, which she kept close to her side. She placed the sum in the blacksmith’s sooty palm. Gisela removed Kaeleb’s old, ragged saddlebag and stuffed it into the new one hanging over her shoulder, then whispered soft words in the horse’s ear while she attached a tether to his bridle.

She turned to leave and found herself face-to-face with Valten, who was still standing behind her. He was so close she could see the flecks of brown in his green eyes.


“I will escort you … until your horse is ready.”

Gisela stared at him a moment before saying, “I thank you.”

She was unsure what to do next. Did he want her to take his arm? She walked toward him, trying not to look nervous, and together they started down the street.

Gisela suppressed the smile that tugged at her lips. She was walking beside Valten, future Duke of Hagenheim. She was considered slightly tall for a female, but even so had to look up to see Valten’s face.

He looked down and met her eye. “Where would you like to go?”

“I have no more business, except to wait for my horse.”

They meandered along a main street in the general direction of the Marktplatz, encountering people leaving the market with their purchases.

Where could they go? She and Valten needed a destination, something to do. Abruptly, Gisela said, “I would like to see your horse.”

She couldn’t tell if he was surprised, but he looked at her askance from his gray-green eyes. “You like horses?”

“More than people sometimes.” She sensed, by the way he was looking at her, that he felt the same way.

Their arms brushed as they passed through a tight crowd.

“We can go to the stable. Sieger expects me to visit him at least once a day.”

“I’d like to see him.”

Did Valten often meet women in the street and then offer to take them anywhere they wanted to go? She was determined to be on her guard. Could it be that he simply wanted to watch over her until she could return to the blacksmith’s shop for her horse? There was something in his eyes, such a look of chivalry. Though the rest of him had transformed and matured since that day when he was fourteen, his eyes had not changed. Even then, he’d had trustworthy eyes.

“How long have you been away from Hagenheim?” She already knew, but she wanted to hear him speak.

“Two years.”

“Your family must have missed you.”

“So they told me.” Valten rubbed his chin, wincing. “I got scolded quite a bit. All three of my sisters are good at scolding.”

She tried to imagine what it must be like to have sisters who cared so much. His younger brother Gabehart, the one who had married Valten’s betrothed, had also been away for two years, living in Hohendorf. Did Valten miss him? She thought it best not to ask.

They continued on their way, forced to pass through the Marktplatz to reach the castle stable.

“Are you wearing those clothes to disguise yourself? No one seems to recognize you.”

“And yet you knew who I was.”

“I heard that coarse fellow say your name.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “But I am inconspicuous in these clothes, don’t you think?”

Gisela allowed herself a brief laugh. “You could hardly be inconspicuous no matter what you wore.” Her heart nearly stopped as she realized he could construe her words two different ways. Either she meant he looked so good that it didn’t matter what he wore—which was certainly true — or her real meaning, which was that he was so tall and broad and intimidating that he could hardly be missed.

They entered the most crowded part of the town square and were no longer able to converse. She couldn’t help but feel pleased at how he kept glancing behind to make sure she was there. When a particularly dirty, burly man stood in their way, Valten waited for him to pass before leading her forward. A few minutes later, she got distracted by some leather feed bags at one booth and bumped into Valten’s back. She felt herself blush, but he pretended not to notice.

They emerged from the packed marketplace, and Hagenheim Castle stood before them as they approached the gatehouse. Valten nodded at the guard, who waved them through while glancing curiously at Gisela.

Once they were inside the castle wall and walking across the quiet yard toward the stable, she asked, “How many horses do you have?”

“Our family owns about thirty, but my father’s knights’ horses board here too.”

Excitement welled inside her as she anticipated seeing so many horses. At one time her father had owned twice that many, but her stepmother had sold them off one by one over the years — often for less than they were worth, since she was ignorant of their value — to satisfy her desire for extravagant clothing and carriages for herself and her daughters. Now her father’s stable housed fewer than ten.

As they made their way across the yard toward the stable, Gisela grew impatient with Valten’s slow stride, wanting to walk ahead of him as they drew near the dark building, where a horse was whinnying and two men were talking.

The men bowed respectfully when Valten entered, then went back to cleaning stalls.

Valten walked straight to the third stall on the right. A horse that looked almost identical to Kaeleb came and bobbed his head up and down over his stall door. He snuffled as Valten rubbed his cheek.

“This is Sieger.”

Gisela held her breath, wondering if the horse would remember her. She let him smell her hand. He held still as she rubbed his forehead. “Guten morgen, Sieger.”

The big animal stretched his neck and sniffed her hair, then nickered. When he rubbed his head against her shoulder as if he had seen her only yesterday, her heart swelled inside her chest. She rubbed him behind his ear and he nickered again, wiggling his nose and searching her hand, no doubt looking for a carrot. He was remembering how she always fed him his favorite treat.

Valten gazed at her out of the corner of his eye before patting his horse. Sieger ignored him and nudged Gisela’s shoulder again.

“I’ve never seen him act this way with a stranger.”

Gisela remembered the last day she’d seen this beautiful creature — a day when life was still happy, when she felt safe and loved, and she still had a father to protect her. Seeing Sieger made her remember all the other horses she’d said good-bye to over the years.

“Perhaps he does know me.” She rubbed the destrier’s nose affectionately, breathing into his nostrils.

She could feel Valten’s eyes on her. With a final pat, she reluctantly moved away from Sieger and turned to Valten. “Can you show me your other horses?”

Valten stared a moment, then said, “Have you seen Sieger before?”

Gisela smiled innocently. “How could I?”

He frowned at her, then led her to the next stall, introducing her first to his courser, then to several other mounts, including the ponies and palfreys preferred by his three sisters. She got an idea about each sister’s personality as she got to know that girl’s horse, and as she listened to the small but pertinent information Valten gave about each one.

“Margaretha’s favorite horse is this palfrey.” Valten led her to a horse with friendly eyes and a white blaze on her forehead. “Her horse loves to run, but she’s gentle and obedient.”

They moved to the next stall. “Kirstyn’s horse is calm and easy to manage, but she doesn’t like crowds.”

Gisela stopped to let the mare get a good look at her and sniff her hand before she rubbed the horse’s head.

“And this is Adela’s pony. We call her Dizzy because she dances around a lot.”

The pony was gray with white spots, a shaggy mane, and shy eyes. Gisela rubbed the pony and talked to him softly.

As much as she enjoyed meeting his sisters’ favorite horses, she found herself wishing she could meet his sisters and also see Valten with them. She imagined the youngest one asking him to play. He would pretend to be impatient with her — at first. When she begged, she imagined him eventually giving in, patiently playing a game with them. He would give her a piggyback ride and let them bring out a playful side he didn’t show anyone else. Yes, she would very much enjoy seeing him with his family.


But how was that ever to be? She would enjoy this hour with him, then savor it in her memory, tucking it beside the memory of him when he was fourteen. It would comfort her when she felt alone, along with the few memories she was still able to retain about her father.

A groom, upon Valten’s request, returned with a few carrots. Valten handed half of them to Gisela. “Sieger likes carrots. They’re his favorite.”

Gisela bit back a smile as she fed her carrots to Sieger while Valten distributed his carrots to the others.

She watched Valten out of the corner of her eye, trying to burn his every feature in her memory. She took note of his clean-shaven jawline, the small hollow above the middle of his top lip … Staring at his lips made her heart skip a beat, so she shifted her gaze to his eyes. His lashes and brows were thick and darker than his hair.

Afraid he might notice her staring, she ducked behind Sieger and gave the horse a final rub, pressing her cheek against his.

She hated to spoil the moment with thoughts of her stepmother, but Evfemia would be finishing her shopping and would want Gisela to hitch Kaeleb back up to the carriage. She should hurry, since Evfemia wouldn’t hesitate to cause an embarrassing scene if she couldn’t find her stepdaughter. And if she knew Gisela had spent the last hour with the duke’s oldest son, it would be even worse. For years, the woman had been scheming a way for her daughter, Irma, to marry the future duke of Hagenheim, or to at least meet him and talk to him. She’d be jealous fit to die if she knew Gisela had done by accident something all her scheming had failed to do.

“I should be getting back to the blacksmith’s.”

“Let us go, then.”

“You don’t have to escort me.” It was best for both of them if no one saw them together. Her stepmother and stepsisters would humiliate her in front of him.

“With Ruexner prowling around, yes, I do.”

She thought it better not to argue with a man who looked as determined and grim as Valten. His face was like chiseled stone. Best to just say, “Thank you” and pray they didn’t encounter her stepfamily.

They walked along, discussing the horses and their different characteristics. But once they reached the Marktplatz, she remained alert, hoping they could get to the blacksmith’s shop before she saw her stepmother.



Her eyes darted in every direction, Valten noted, as they made their way through the Marktplatz, as though she was looking for someone. And Valten didn’t think that person was Ruexner. She’d been confident when she’d encountered that rogue — now she seemed nervous.

He couldn’t look at her without thinking how beautiful she was. Where did she come from? When would he see her again? He couldn’t let her go without finding out who she was. But the noise of the crowd made it momentarily impossible to ask her anything.

A woman suddenly grabbed her by her arm and yanked, making her stumble. “Where have you been?” the woman screeched.

Valten stepped up, getting between the extravagantly dressed woman and the girl. Startled, the woman took a step back but didn’t let go of her arm.

“It’s all right.” The girl looked at him with pleading, desperate eyes. “Just let me go with her.”

“Who is she?” he demanded, this woman who was dressed like a queen and would dare hurt her.

“My stepmother.” She turned and walked away with the woman.

The woman squawked, “Who is that man? What are you about?”

They walked away and were quickly swallowed by the throng.