The Captive Maiden (13 page)

Sitting on her “throne” in the gallery, Gisela felt honored, and also a little ridiculous. To be looked upon as the Queen of Beauty and Love was both enjoyable and awkward, but knowing she’d been chosen by Valten … that was by far the best part. And he was wearing the red scarf Margaretha had given him. She remembered how he had looked at her when she tied her blue scarf to his arm. She wished she could have tied this one on too, but she’d had to hurry to her place. The duke’s own guard had escorted her there, and he stood nearby, as though keeping watch over her.

Gisela felt a bit lonely by herself, but she soon saw Cristyne
and motioned for her to come sit with her. She wished Margaretha could be with her too, but she was with her family on the opposite side of the lists. Cristyne and her cousin, who came with her, kept up a friendly chatter that soothed the uncomfortable feeling that the entire crowd was watching her. The children in the crowd had continued to stare and make comments about her, as if she couldn’t hear them.

Out of the corner of her eye she couldn’t help but see the jealous glares of Rainhilda and her friends, and she’d made note of where Evfemia, Irma, and Contzel were sitting. She felt, rather than saw, their eyes on her but refused to allow them to ruin the day.

She instead focused on Valten while he was before her, and once or twice she fancied that he was looking at her too. But he kept his visor down and she couldn’t see inside the dark helm.

Dear Lord God, I know this day can’t last, but I will remember it forever.
She caught her breath at the fervency of her own feelings. But she couldn’t expect Valten to feel as much for her as she did for him. And though everyone might expect Valten to marry the lady he chose to be the Queen of Beauty and Love — hadn’t everyone expected him to choose Rainhilda, and to marry her? — no one would expect him to marry an orphaned servant.

But he felt something for her, at least. No matter what might happen in the future, he at least thought of her now. And she had never dared dream of being noticed by him.

No, that wasn’t true. She had dreamed.

Valten’s second challenger rode onto the field. Friedric Ruexner was easily distinguishable by his black armor and the ugly gray skull on his surcoat and his horse’s caparison. The spike on his helmet was not crowned by feathers this time. There was no extra decoration besides the gray skull on a black background. It made the red scarf on Valten’s arm seem to stand out even more.

Her heart beat faster. She had to swallow the nervous lump in her throat as she thought about the malice in Ruexner’s eyes when he’d looked at Valten, and the fact that the man would do anything to defeat Valten, even poison his horse.

O God, please protect Valten from any malicious tricks.
Ruexner would take any unfair advantage he could, as he did not adhere to the rules of honorable conduct that knights swore to uphold. But Valten would never violate the codes of chivalry, putting him at a disadvantage.

Knowing people might be watching for her reaction, Gisela strove to keep herself from looking anxious. She would convey complete confidence in her champion. Making an effort to keep her hands unclenched, she stared as impassively as possible at the scene before her. She had always been good at concealing her true feelings from her stepmother and stepsisters, laughing in their faces when she wanted to cry, hiding her anger and contempt to avoid punishment, and refusing to let them see how much their cruel words hurt her. So surely she could conceal, from this rough crowd, her anxiety for Valten’s safety.

She concentrated on breathing evenly as they all anticipated the moment the marshal would lower his flag. Valten and Sieger waited, still and quiet, while Ruexner and his mount fidgeted, his horse pawing the ground a bit and lifting his head and pricking his ears forward. Ruexner pulled on the reins with one hand and flexed his other hand around his sword hilt, while his mount whinnied nervously.

The flag dropped, and both horses sprang forward at the same time.

Instead of slowing when he approached, Ruexner continued to charge his horse forward. With an enraged roar, he slashed his sword downward as he reached Valten, slamming the blade onto Valten’s head and shoulder as he thundered past. Valten, unable to turn Sieger out of the way without forcing him into Ruexner’s
horse, took the full force of Ruexner’s blow, but he dealt a blow of his own to Ruexner’s helmet.

Valten, as far as Gisela could tell, was unfazed, but Ruexner’s head hung low. After a moment, he straightened and turned his horse around. As soon as he did, Valten was upon him. Ruexner raised his sword just in time to block the blow.

The two crossed swords again and again, the sound of clanging blades ringing through the open air as they parried each the other’s strike.
Please don’t let him make a mistake
, Gisela prayed, clutching the arms of her chair. The fight was punctuated by Ruexner’s roars and growls as he seemed to fight out of an evil fury, a special hatred for Valten. But Valten’s experience and skill were legendary. He would defeat this foe as he had defeated many others.
Please, God, let it be so.

Valten seemed to get the upper hand, and forced Ruexner to lean away from him and turn in his saddle. If he could throw Ruexner off balance … Suddenly Ruexner slashed downward, farther than necessary. Valten pulled on Sieger’s reins to move him aside, but it was too late to prevent Ruexner from deliberately striking Valten’s horse. Sieger screamed.

Valten took advantage of Ruexner’s lowered sword and awkward angle to thrust his blade into the small space under Ruexner’s arm that was unprotected, between his plates of armor.

Sieger, still reacting to being struck, reared, unseating Valten as Ruexner roared with pain and rage, and both Valten and Ruexner went down.

The crowd gasped as the two warriors landed on the ground at the same time, their horses sidestepping out of the way.

Gisela prayed under her breath, hardly knowing what she was saying. She clasped her hands over her mouth as Valten and Ruexner scrambled to be the first to get to their feet.

Chapter
11

Valten braced himself as he hit the ground,
barely feeling the impact as he focused on keeping a hold on his sword, getting to his feet before Ruexner, and trying to land the first blow. He was unable to see where Ruexner had struck Sieger, but he hoped the blow had been a glancing one, and that the saddle and the fabric of his horse’s caparison had saved him from significant injury.

Ruexner was still struggling, moving slow as he rolled over. Valten got himself to one knee and was pushing himself up with his sword when he was hit in the eyes with stinging sand.

The dirt came through the eye slit in his visor and the air holes in his bevor, choking him and obstructing his vision. He clawed at his helmet with his free hand but it was futile; he couldn’t do anything to wipe the dirt from his eyes. He blinked, and the sand seemed to cut his eyelids.

Forcing his eyes open, he stared through the dust, holding his sword in a defensive position. He could barely see and couldn’t find Ruexner at all. Where had the devil gone? Or was he there in front of him, still trying to get to his feet, and Valten just couldn’t see him through all the grit in his eyes?

This sort of behavior would not win over the crowd. And striking Valten’s horse was a violation of the tournament rules.
He couldn’t tell Ruexner that, even if he’d wanted to, because his throat was too clogged with dust.

He fought the urge to close his eyes, ignoring the burning and the tears streaming down his face.

Ruexner roared, then Valten saw him running toward him, his sword high over his head.

Valten stood still, waiting; then, just before Ruexner’s sword landed its blow, Valten lunged to the side, slashing Ruexner under his other arm.

The man must be bleeding from under both arms. But Ruexner spun around and came after Valten again, still roaring his fury, as he struck over and over. Valten parried and landed a few blows that forced Ruexner back. Then Ruexner surprised him and struck at his left side, landing a blow on Valten’s unprotected left hand, as he wore a gauntlet only on his right. Valten ignored the pain, and while Ruexner was stretching for Valten’s left side, Valten used his foot to cut Ruexner’s feet out from under him. As the man fell, Valten’s sword wrapped around his opponent’s blade and sent Ruexner’s weapon flying. It landed in the dirt some thirty feet away.

Valten stood over his foe, his foot on Ruexner’s chest and his sword tip under Ruexner’s chin, pushing his head back.

“Surrender to me! And swear you’ll never challenge me again.” Valten said the last part quietly, for only Ruexner’s ears. He was sick of this man’s grudge. “Or should I dispatch you to your maker?” He deserved it, the dishonorable cur.

“I’ll never surrender to you,” Ruexner ground out between clenched teeth.

Just then, the marshals tried to get between them, declaring that the match was over and Valten was the victor. They urged Valten to back off, but he wasn’t willing to let Ruexner up just yet. He pressed his sword point to Ruexner’s neck, between his helmet and his mail, pricking his skin. How dare
he play his dirty tricks — striking Sieger and throwing dirt in Valten’s eyes.

The marshals pulled Valten off Ruexner by force.

As Ruexner slowly got to his feet, one of the marshals stood between them, but Valten could see Ruexner’s bloodshot eyes fixed on him.

“It is finished.” Valten meant to warn the man.

“It is not finished,” Ruexner shot back. “I am not finished with you, Valten. Not until I defeat you.
You
will surrender to
me.
I swear it.”

Don’t make me kill you.
Valten kept the words to himself. It had been his good fortune to have never caused the death of any of his opponents. But he was at peace with it if he was forced to kill in self-defense.

Ruexner just might be the first.

Gisela’s breath caught at the sight of Valten’s limp left hand and the way he was holding it.

Blood oozed down Ruexner’s sides, showing bright red against his armor. He was hurt too.
Good.

The marshals forced Ruexner to walk away from Valten and off the field. The crowd shouted insults and hissed, and the ignoble knight yelled curses and shook his fist at them. The crowds laughed from the safety of the perimeter and shouted back at him.

While Ruexner was leaving, Valten’s squire helped him take off his helmet, and Gisela noticed he didn’t use his left hand. Though his face was sweaty and dirty, he didn’t appear to be seriously hurt. Valten raised his sword at the crowds, facing one side, then the other, while the people cheered wildly and yelled praise and cheers. Gisela forced herself to swallow down her anxiety for him before he faced her side of the lists. He lowered his sword and bowed to her.

Her heart lurched inside her.

He bowed low, going down on one knee, and the crowd went even wilder with their cheers. She acknowledged him with a shaky smile and a slow nod.

As Valten stood, he put his sword hilt to his lips, then opened his arm in a wide gesture to his queen. He stood there until the crowd gradually stopped cheering.

When the people were quiet, he said in a loud voice, “Long life to Queen Gisela, the Queen of Beauty and Love.”

Gisela felt all eyes on her, but she only saw one person. “And to you, Valten, Earl of Hamlin, the bravest and most noble knight of them all.”

“Hear, hear!” the crowd cheered, yelling and stomping and clapping.

He seemed to raise his chin at her in approval. She tried to look demure. All those years as a child when she had dreamed about him, she could not have imagined how it would feel to be here now, the object of his homage and his smile.

Valten walked off the field, and his squire led Sieger away. Gisela was happy to see that his caparison wasn’t even torn and the horse didn’t appear to be injured.

How she longed to go to Valten, to find him as she had the day before. She would love to know how badly his hand was injured, if he had other injuries. But she could hardly wander around unnoticed today. Yesterday she had been nobody. Today she was the Queen of Beauty and Love.