Valten took several minutes to make sure no one was around before coming back inside. Gisela and Friar Daniel each went out, in opposite directions, to tend to their personal needs, but he instructed them not to go far. Then Valten took Sieger out for a drink and to fetch water from a small stream they’d passed last night on their way to the cave.
Back inside, Friar Daniel and Gisela were chatting away.
“Do you think God has a different purpose for every person,” Gisela asked, “or is his purpose the same for everyone?”
Friar Daniel wrinkled his forehead, not noticing that Valten was holding out his flask of water until Valten nudged his shoulder.
“Oh, thank you, brother knight.” Friar Daniel smiled up at him from his seat on the cave floor. The man was always smiling.
Friar Daniel went on. “Some things are the same for everyone. God wants us all to strive to grow more like Jesus, to become holy as he is holy, but God also has a specific purpose for each person. How could it not be so? Everyone in a village cannot be a baker, because who would then make the candles or shoe the horses or grow the food? God says we are like a body. ‘The eye cannot say to the hand, “I don’t need you.” And the head cannot say to the feet, “I don’t need you.” ‘ “
“Does the Bible say that?”
“Oh, yes, and it says, ‘Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.’ Just as the villagers are part of a village and have different tasks, we all have tasks to do for the Lord God.” He smiled, looking rather foolish, with his round, cheeky face and the bald circle on his head.
Valten felt a twinge of envy that the friar seemed so sure of his purpose. To envy the man was absurd. But when had Valten ever felt as if he was doing what he was supposed to be doing, that he was fulfilling a purpose? He had once thought his purpose was to train to be the best at jousting and sword fighting and all kinds of combat. But it had been a long time since he’d thought about what God might want him to do. He’d been so focused on being the best, on winning recognition for himself.
He rubbed his face, feeling the itch of three days’ growth of beard. He didn’t want to dwell on such things, to realize he’d lost his usual confidence. With no weapon except a crossbow and no real plan, nothing to do but wait, his mood grew darker, especially with Gisela telling him he didn’t have to marry her. What did she mean by that?
“My dear,” the friar was saying to Gisela, “I’m sure God has a purpose for you. You must realize that God loves you and that He places great worth on you. Do not doubt it. If you ask for it in prayer, I am sure God will give you direction and a purpose.”
A purpose for Gisela? Valten wasn’t sure when it had started, but he had begun to imagine her married to him, having his children, and living at Hagenheim Castle with him. But what if God had another purpose for Gisela, one that didn’t include him?
Why did the friar have to stir up these disturbing thoughts?
Friar Daniel stood and drew something out of his saddlebag. “I wish to share with you. ‘Such as I have, I give you.’ “ He handed Gisela and Valten a small roll of bread. “I must say my prayers, for I never eat until I’ve prayed at least half an hour.” Still smiling, the friar made his way farther into the cave and disappeared in the darkness.
Gisela looked up at him, her eyebrows raised. She looked sweet enough to … kiss, but he probably shouldn’t, not with the way she kept telling him he didn’t have to marry her. Did she not want to be his wife?
He sat down in front of her and let her smile lift his spirits a little.
“Thank you for the water.”
He nodded. “I think we should rest as much as we can today and then start toward home when it gets dark. If we travel at night, we have a better chance of getting away.”
Gisela nodded, taking a bite of her roll. “That makes sense.”
Moments later Valten was taking the last bite of his bread, thinking about going hunting for some game, when Gisela suddenly gasped. She was staring down at something, then she grabbed his right hand.
Gisela couldn’t believe she’d forgotten to look at Valten’s right wrist. She had noticed several times the somewhat untidy state of the splint on his left hand, but hadn’t paid attention to his right. Of course it would be bloody after he’d struggled so long to get the rope off. Dried blood plastered the piece of cloth to his skin, and there were rope burns on the back of his hand.
She sucked in a breath as she examined his strong, broad hand and the damage to it. “You must let me take care of this. We should go to the stream and wash it.”
“You can’t go to the stream. It’s too dangerous. Ruexner may follow the stream looking for us.”
“At least hold still and let me wash it.” She held his hand over the grass. She poured water from the flask over his bloody wrist and the abrasions on his hand. When the bandage was soaked through, she carefully worked it loose. As she stared at his poor hand, she had a sudden urge to kiss it, so strong it made her heart slam against her chest.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “It will heal.”
She poured some more water on it, trying to clean enough blood off so that she could see how bad it looked. She swallowed. “Perhaps Friar Daniel will have some clean bandages I could use.” Her voice wavered.
She turned his hand palm up and admired the structure of his fingers. Her face heated and she wished she had something to dry his hand off with, just so she’d have an excuse to keep holding it. She let go and raised her head. He was looking at her so tenderly. Was he feeling the same way?
“Your cheek isn’t swollen as much anymore. That’s good.” But his left eye was still bruised purple and blue below and above his eye. The stitches over his eye seemed to be holding well, and that cut looked like it was healing. Her gaze wandered from his eye to the growth of hair on his face. She’d always thought he looked dangerous, but he looked even more so with the short stubble on his face.
His eyes met hers, and it seemed as if she could see a longing in the intensity of their gray-green depths. She felt as if she could never stop caring about him, as if he had captured her and she would never escape … would never want to. A terrifying thought. Her heart pounded even harder, especially when his gaze moved from her eyes to her lips. He moved closer as his head bent toward her.
“There is nothing like communing with God first thing in the morning.”
Gisela sat back on her heels as Friar Daniel emerged from the dark cave.
Trying to recover her composure, Gisela jumped to her feet and asked, “Friar Daniel, do you have any clean bandages? Valten — I mean, Lord Hamlin, has some wounds on his wrist and hand —”
“Of course, my dear.” Friar Daniel turned to look through the supplies on his donkey’s back. He brought forth a roll of clean cloth.
“Thank you so much.” She turned back to Valten, who was also standing. Feeling a bit awkward now that Friar Daniel was watching them, she took Valten’s hand and carefully wrapped it with the bandage, tying it securely.
Friar Daniel sat eating some bread and no doubt watching them. Not trusting herself to look up at Valten, she turned away.
Valten went and picked up his crossbow from where it was leaning against the wall. “I’m going to find fresh meat. Stay close to the cave.”
Gisela and Friar Daniel both agreed to do so, and Valten was soon gone, walking quietly into the woods.
Valten came back with two large pheasants. He said he would wait until it was dark to build a fire and cook it. Meanwhile, Gisela slept most of the rest of the day. She hadn’t realized how tired she was.
As night fell, hoping Ruexner and his men were far away, Valten built a small fire at the entrance to the cave.
Valten took the first pheasant and put it on the ground, spreading out the wings. Then he took the legs and pulled until the skin slipped off the breast, and the wings came loose from the legs and entrails.
Gisela watched in fascination as he had the bird dressed an
d ready to be cooked in less time than it would take Ava’s nursemaid to change a diaper. He made a spit out of sticks and placed both the birds over the fire.
As Valten got more wood and Gisela turned the pheasants on the spit, Friar Daniel was in the dark part of the cave, praying—or sleeping, Gisela wasn’t sure which.
Valten sat down beside Gisela on the fallen tree. “I’ve been wanting to ask you … How did Ruexner abduct you from the ball? You were standing in the Great Hall one minute, and the next minute, you were gone.”
Gisela shook her head. It had been her fault. She hated to admit to him how gullible she had been, but he deserved to hear the story. “Rainhilda came and told me my stepsister Irma wanted to speak with me. Irma was standing in the doorway to the corridor, crying. She said she was afraid Contzel, my other stepsister, was about to do harm to herself, and she needed me to come and talk to her.” Gisela shook her head. “I should have known better, but I stepped into the corridor and someone — Ruexner or one of his men—threw something over my head and dragged me away.”
For a long moment, Valten didn’t say anything. Was he angry with her? She could understand it if he was. He could accuse her of being foolish and she would agree with him.
“I’m so sorry you had such a terrible stepmother and stepsisters.” His voice was low and kind.
The compassion in his eyes made her sigh. “I should have known not to trust her, that she would trick me. I was foolish.”
“No.” He picked up her hand and held it, caressing her knuckles with his thumb. “You couldn’t have known. I can’t imagine a sister of mine doing anything so evil and heartless.”
“I’m sure your sisters wouldn’t. They all seem so sweet. And your mother too.” A pleasant warmth went all through her at the way he was touching her hand.
“They like you very much.”
The way Valten was looking at her made her glad Friar Daniel was not around. But his mentioning his family only reminded her how she had fallen in love with them too, as surely as she had fallen in love with Valten. Could he feel the same about her? She thought back to what Friar Daniel had said about God loving her and placing great worth on her. Might the reason she struggled to believe that also be why she also struggled to believe that Valten might be falling in love with her?
“My father told me your father was one of his most trusted knights, Sir Christoff Mueller.”
“I didn’t know. I didn’t even know he was a knight.” The information settled over her like a blanket. It would explain how her father and Duke Wilhelm had seemed to know each other so well.
“How old were you when your father died?”
“I was seven, almost eight.” It had been so long since she’d talked about him. In fact, she never talked about her father.
“He was a kind man,” Gisela went on, staring down at the small crackling flames of the fire. “He never would have allowed my stepmother to treat me the way she did. Evfemia wouldn’t even allow me to have a fire in my chamber. When I was very young, sometimes I would build a fire in my fireplace anyway. And then when she made me put it out, I would sleep inside near the coals for warmth.” Now he would know just how different their childhoods had been.
She focused on the fire, on its friendly color, and listened to its cheerful crackling sounds. Valten didn’t say anything for so long that she looked up at him. He was staring intently at her face. He reached out and stroked her cheek with his thumb and cupped her chin with his palm.
“You deserved better.”
His warm fingers on her skin, together with the gruff compassion in his voice, seemed to melt something inside her that had long been hard and cold. She looked down, unable to bear the kindness in his. He was rubbing her cheek with his thumb and sending a tingling warmth all through her, a warmth that seemed to be melting away all her anger and pain. If Valten loved her, truly loved her, and wanted to marry her, she could do anything, even stop hating her stepmother and stepsisters and forgive them.
He leaned toward her. Her eyes wavered closed just as his lips touched her forehead. His lips were warm on her skin. His hand slipped behind her neck, and he turned slightly and kissed her temple. She was afraid to move, afraid to breathe, for fear she would ruin the moment and he would stop.
Someone cleared his throat behind them.
Gisela froze. A low growling sound came from Valten’s throat as he pulled away, but he kept his hand behind her neck. Her face burned as she realized Friar Daniel had seen Valten kissing her.
Valten frowned and removed his hand from her neck. She ducked her head.
“I see there’s more cooking out here than the pheasant.”
Valten leaned over to turn the roasting birds on the spit and mumbled, “Not anymore.”
“That sure smells good.” Friar Daniel cheerfully rubbed his hands together. “Tonight we feast, then we travel, eh, brother knight?”
Gisela could still feel Valten’s lips on her brow and temple. She sat quietly, imagining what might have happened if Friar Daniel had not come out of the cave when he did. Did Valten love her? Would he have kissed her if he didn’t? She was afraid to believe it, afraid to hope.
Valten didn’t attempt to hold her hand anymore, but he stayed near her while Friar Daniel sat on the ground and told them about some of the people he had encountered in all his wandering. “My message is so simple,” he said. “Repent and believe in God’s goodness. Can you believe some people don’t know that God is good? That he will forgive their sins? No one had ever told them. They think God wants to punish them, not that he wants to forgive them. Imagine my joy at being the one to tell them the good news!”
Gisela couldn’t help smiling back at the friar’s beaming face.
The three of them ate both of the pheasants and the last of Friar Daniel’s bread. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was, either.
When they finished their meal, they dumped the bones and scraps into a hole Valten had dug, then filled the hole with dirt and heaped dirt onto what remained of their fire. Once all traces of the fire and meal were gone, they prepared to leave.
It was already dark, with clouds rolling in and threatening to blot out the moon’s meager light. Valten seemed anxious to be off. He lifted Gisela into Sieger’s saddle, then hoisted himself up behind her. Friar Daniel mounted his donkey and followed.
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 ma
de 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.
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