Sophie bent, dipping her hand in the stream
for a drink. The water was cold and tasted good.
Poor Gabe. How tired he must be after all he’d been through today. She wanted to apologize to him for what he’d suffered to save her. He had barely spoken all day, although it had been hard to talk while riding. But since the archer had shot at them and chased them into the ravine, he’d been very short with her. Perhaps he was only tired and focused on getting to safety. Or perhaps he was angry about all the trouble she’d caused him.
She hoped he didn’t resent her. Brothers didn’t mind risking their lives for their sisters, did they?
Although at times she didn’t feel very sisterly toward him. Today, he had pulled her up into the saddle and taken her away from the duchess, he had taken care of her when the archer was shooting at them, he had saved her from the wolf … He made her feel so safe, so protected, in a way she’d never felt before. And he was so handsome, the way his brown hair lay thick across his forehead. Once or twice she’d looked back at him and seen such a look of compassion in his brown eyes it had made her heart flop around like a fish on dry land.
In those moments, she did not feel what a sister would feel for a brother. But that would no doubt pass. She would simply ignore the fact that sometimes when he looked into her
eyes, her breath left her and she felt a bit weak in the knees. She could never admit those feelings, and if she continued to ignore them, they would go away. She would pretend she had only sisterly thoughts about him. Just as she pretended to Duchess Ermengard that she wasn’t afraid. Just as she pretended she didn’t mind spending time in the dungeon, that she didn’t hate the duchess. Ignoring her pain had made her life bearable.
Grateful to be off the horse’s back and on firm ground, she sank her hands into the water and brought them up to scrub her face. The coolness in the air chilled her wet skin and made her shiver. She still wore her apron, and she lifted it to dry her face. Next, she obediently untied the makeshift bandage and dipped her arm into the cold water up to her elbow. The wound began to throb again, but she ignored it as she held it underwater and smoothed away the dried blood with her fingers. When she finally got it clean, she held it up to the moonlight. The arrow had sliced from her elbow to her wrist, but it didn’t look terribly deep.
She dried her arm on her apron, then dipped the bloody bandage in the cold water. As she wrung it out, a movement caught her eye. Someone was walking toward her. The figure was tall, but she could only make out the outline. She held her breath until she recognized Gabe.
“Sophie.”
She stood and moved toward him.
“I was worried when I didn’t see you.” His voice was barely a whisper.
“I went to wash my arm.”
He reached for her arm. His hand warmed her cold skin as he studied the cut. “Does it hurt very much?”
“No. Not very much.”
“I’ll wrap it. Come.”
She followed him back to the rocky overhang. His crossbow, loaded and cocked, lay on the ground.
“We had better try to make it through the night without a fire,” he said as he motioned for her to sit down. Then he knelt beside her, took a roll of cloth, and wrapped the cloth tightly around her arm several times. “Our healer, Lena, says that cleaning a wound with water and then keeping it bandaged makes it less likely to turn deadly.”
“Oh. I never heard that.”
She couldn’t stop staring at his hands as he cared for her arm, the gentle way he touched her.
“Our healer studied under Frau Geruscha, who’d trained my mother once. In a way, I guess you could say I’m from Frau Geruscha’s line of apprentices.” He tied the bandage snugly and cut off the extra cloth. “And sometimes the training comes in handy.”
When he finished, she whispered, “Thank you.”
There was a bit of dried blood on his cheekbone. She remembered the cold, wet cloth in her hand and lifted it toward Gabe’s face. He looked uncertain. “I just want to clean it,” she said.
He kept still while she gently dabbed at his scraped skin. It was badly bruised, so she applied only the slightest pressure as she repeatedly touched the cloth to his face. Then she dabbed at it one last time.
“Ow.”
Perhaps a little too hard. “Sorry. But you will heal. Not much blood at all.” A self-consciousness came over her but she stifled it. There was nothing wrong with her trying to care for his injury.
He picked up the bag that had been tied to the back of Gingerbread’s saddle and opened it. “Now let’s see what your cook packed us.”
Sophie forgot about awkwardness as they happily perused the contents of Petra’s bundle. Inside lay bread and cheese and
some dried fruit. Gabe broke off a piece of bread and handed it to her, then did the same with the large wedge of cheese. They ate silently. Sophie hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and the food made her feel better, but also sleepier.
Gabe picked up his crossbow and sat near the horse blanket, bracing himself against the rock. He set the weapon by his leg and handed her a dry, clean blanket. “Let’s try to get some rest.”
The blanket was not very large. Sophie hesitated.
“I can sleep sitting up.” He demonstrated by leaning his back against the rock. “I’m sorry I only have the one blanket.”
It was spring but the night was cold. She was even shivering a bit. Gabe was only being chivalrous by offering her the only blanket. He needed it as much as she did; neither of them was wearing very warm clothes.
“We can share it.” Sophie shook out the fabric. It was made of wool and would be very warm. She spread it over Gabe’s lap, then lay down with her feet next to him, her head toward the river. Lying this way, they were both covered.
“Good night, Sophie.”
She could just make out his smile in the dim light. Then she remembered the apology she wanted to make to him. “I’m very sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you. You were almost killed more than once today, because of me.”
“Sophie.” He stopped and sighed.
She waited for him to go on. Would he say he was sorry he had ever left his comfortable home to come and find her? That he hadn’t expected this to be so difficult? That he wished he had let his brother come for her?
He shook his head. “I want you to stop thinking like that. This is the most adventure I’ve ever had in my life. Can you truly think I wouldn’t want to be right here, slaying wolves and evading evil henchmen?” His perfect white teeth showed in what little light there was. “I’ve enjoyed rescuing you more than anything
I’ve ever done. And I can rub it in Valten’s face that I saved his betrothed.” He chuckled softly.
It occurred to Sophie that he was only saying these things to put her mind at ease, but since it
did
ease her mind, she accepted it. Besides, perhaps what he said was true. Men were such strange creatures. Perhaps getting shot at and defending a woman against wild animals and evil archers truly was his idea of enjoyment.
Sophie knew she should try to go to sleep, but her mind was churning. “So Valten was betrothed to me when he was very young?”
“Yes. Our fathers signed the document.”
“But everyone thought I was dead. Why didn’t Valten marry someone else?”
Gabe shrugged. “My parents decided to let him choose a wife for himself. Our region is at peace and we have no pressing need to make powerful alliances.”
“Are you betrothed as well?”
He hesitated for a moment. “No one is as concerned about securing a suitable wife for a second son. But yes, I am considered betrothed, though no ceremony was performed and no documents were signed.”
“Who is she?” Sophie suddenly wanted to know all about Gabe’s future bride.
“Her name is Brittola. She is the daughter of a count. When she and her father came for a visit, I liked her right away, and so it seemed a suitable match. Our parents agreed.”
“When did you last see her?”
“Almost a year ago.”
“So you like her?”
“She is a sweet girl.”
Is that what men liked? Sweet? No matter. She was happy that Gabe had someone to love and marry. Sophie would marry Valten,
and she intended to be happy with him — she wanted Gabe to be happily married as well. And now she should let him sleep.
“Good night, Gabe.”
“Good night, Sophie.”
Sophie awoke in the night, and it took her a moment to figure out where she was. When she saw Gabe slumped against the rock at her feet, it all came flooding back — Gabe’s eyes begging her to trust him when he came searching for her after Lorencz left her tied to a tree. Gabe wrapping her bleeding arm, his face intent and serious. Gabe grimly shooting the wolf as it leaped toward her. Gabe smiling as he told her he was having the time of his life. But none of that meant that he cared about her. He was only doing it for the glory and to make his brother angry. It was a competition between them, as Gabe had said. Sophie would do well to remember that. He was not rescuing her for unselfish reasons. Besides, she would marry Valten, and she would belong to him and to his family, and they were all going to love her. Because she would do whatever it took to make him and his family love her.
When she woke up again, dawn was turning the world gray. Gabe was gone.
Sophie sat up and looked around. She eventually spotted him squatting by the river, filling his water flask. Gingerbread was grazing nearby. Sophie rubbed her cheek, then folded the blanket that had covered them. She tucked it under her arm and yanked up the horse blanket lying nearby. After shaking it out, she started toward Gingerbread.
Gabe started for the horse at the same time.
As he came closer she noticed the stubble on his face made him look rugged and achingly handsome. His boyishness was gone, replaced by an older, wiser look. His cheek was no longer
swollen, but the bruising and scraped skin made her want to reach out and touch him, to soothe the hurt.
“Did you sleep well?” She tried to ignore her sudden confusion and the way her heart fluttered at the sight of him. He’d said Valten wasn’t as handsome as he was. She believed him. She couldn’t imagine anyone more handsome.
“I did. Did you?”
“Yes, thank you.” They were whispering. No need to alert anyone who might be nearby of their presence. It was a reminder that they weren’t out of danger yet.
God, protect us today
.
He carried his crossbow over his shoulder at all times now, his arrows within easy reach. He looked very different from when she’d first seen him. Then he had been clean shaven, and his eyes had been bright and well-rested. He’d had an unworried look about him. Now he had slight shadows under his eyes, and his soft linen shirt was wrinkled and askew at the neckline, revealing a bit of his collarbone and the hollow of his throat.
He was very easy to look at.
And even if he did have some wrong motives, she was thankful for him.
Thank you, God, for freeing us and keeping us safe
.
She may have a murderous archer chasing her, but, at least for the moment, she was free. She had finally escaped the duchess. She’d never been this far from Hohendorf. And she hoped she never went back.
If it turned out that she wasn’t betrothed to Valten, if for some reason he rejected her or didn’t believe she was Duke Baldewin’s daughter, then perhaps she could find someone to work for. She had heard that sometimes, in large towns, women worked as shopkeepers or sold their own goods in the marketplaces. How she would love to see those places and meet those women. Perhaps she could get a job in a town, maybe even Hagenheim, cleaning for someone who paid her money. It didn’t matter what she did, as long as she was away from Duchess Ermengard.
Even if she died here in the forest, at least she could say she was free for one, two, or however many days God gave her. And she had to agree, at least partially, with Gabe. This had been the best time of her life.
As Gabe tied their bags to the saddle, he couldn’t help but keep glancing up at Sophie. “We’re still about six days from Hagenheim, but your cook friend, Petra, said we could go to the Cottage of the Seven, about two days from here. Do you know what she was talking about?”
Sophie’s hair hung down around her shoulders, the black tresses brushing her cheeks. She normally kept it braided and knotted at the back of her head. Now was the first time he’d seen it completely down, and he couldn’t help noticing the way her black hair moved in the breeze. He blinked hard, then forced himself to concentrate on what she was saying.
“Petra used to tell me that if I ever escaped from the duchess and left Hohendorf, I would be safe at the Cottage of the Seven. She never explained who the Seven were, but she said I should ask for Dominyk the Wise. Petra is trustworthy. If she says we’d be safe there, then we’ll be safe.”
“If we need help, we will search out this Dominyk and his cottage. Perhaps he can offer us a knight to go with us the rest of the way to Hagenheim.”
He gestured for Sophie to mount up. She stepped closer and Gabe wrapped his hands around her waist. She looked away from him, as if shy about being so close to him. He boosted her up quickly and she kept her eyes averted.
She truly was a virtuous maiden, not flirtatious like some, nor selfish, nor anxious to put herself forward. She would make a wonderful wife for Valten.
Why did that thought make Gabe feel unsettled? Like he’d
fallen on his back and had gotten the breath knocked out of him? Was he so undisciplined that he would covet his brother’s betrothed?
Gabe mounted behind Sophie and took the reins firmly in hand. He urged Gingerbread forward and then nudged the horse to go faster. The sooner they reached Hagenheim, the better.
After riding hard for a couple of hours, Sophie
was grateful when Gabe stopped in a small glade to let the horse drink, which also allowed them to stand and eat some more of their bread and cheese, as well as some raisins, dried apricots, and walnuts.
Gabe kept watch all around them, carefully searching the trees across the river while Gingerbread drank his fill. He passed the bundle of food to Sophie. Her fingers brushed his and she pretended not to notice how warm his hand felt.
Sophie finished eating, then drank from the cold, sparkling river. She needed a few moments of privacy so she gestured toward the forest. Gabe hooked his thumb in the opposite direction, and they went their separate ways.
After returning, they mounted up. Sophie noticed that Gabe washed his hands in the river as often as she did, and he splashed water on his face morning and night. He wasn’t like most of the men Sophie had grown up with — servants who rarely bathed and smelled like it. Gabe, she couldn’t help but notice, smelled … quite pleasant.
But she was tired of thinking about him, and she knew something that would distract them both.
“I have most of the book of Saint Luke memorized. Would you like me to recite it to you?”
“Of course,” he said. “That would be good.”
Sophie began reciting Jesus’s parable:
“A certain man was preparing a great banquet and invited many guests. At the time of the banquet he sent his servant to tell those who had been invited, ‘Come, for everything is now ready.’ ”
“But they all alike began to make excuses. The first said, ‘I have just bought a field and I must go and see it. Please excuse me.’ ”
She glanced up at Gabe. He appeared to be listening, his brows drawn together as he watched the trail ahead. She went on.
“Another said, ‘I have just bought five yoke of oxen, and I’m on my way to try them out. Please excuse me.’
“Still another said, ‘I just got married, so I can’t come.’ ”
Married
. Sophie’s mind went immediately to Valten. What would it be like to be married to him? And why would a man say he couldn’t come to a banquet because he just got married? Sophie felt herself blush as she pondered what it meant to be wed.
She continued reciting. The parable ended with the poor and lame and blind being compelled to come to the feast, while the rich and those who had refused the invitation were excluded.
I will prepare a feast for you in the presence of your enemies
.
Sophie listened, and the words came to her again.
I will prepare a feast for you in the presence of your enemies
.
Sophie prayed,
God, I believe you will protect me from Duchess Ermengard, my enemy, and bless me in spite of the duchess’s efforts to destroy me. You will prepare a feast for me in the presence of my enemy
.
Gabe hadn’t said anything while Sophie kept her eyes closed, listening, praying, and thinking.
She began to recite again, and she came to the parable of the lost sheep. Jesus spoke of the man who left his ninety-nine sheep
to go out and search for the one that was lost. That made Sophie think of Gabe, leaving his comfortable home to come and find her. When she came to the end of the chapter, she asked, “Are you rich, Gabe?”
Gabe looked down at her, his brows raised. “My family is wealthy. But I’m the second son. Valten will inherit the wealth, as well as the right to rule.” He shook his head and smiled faintly. “Although I am rich compared to some, second sons aren’t rich.”
“How then will you live?”
“I will marry Brittola. Her father has promised an estate to her and her husband. But I’ve always expected to have to make my own way. I once fancied becoming a builder, perhaps a master mason, but I haven’t applied myself to my studies as I ought. Up until now, I’m afraid I’ve behaved rather irresponsibly.”
At least he was honest. “Planning and overseeing the building of things. Is this what a master mason does?”
He nodded.
Was he thinking of Brittola, his intended bride? Sophie changed the topic of conversation.
“What do you think will happen to Petra and Roslind?” She hoped the duchess wouldn’t mistreat them even more because she no longer had Sophie to take out her wrath on.
“I don’t know.” Gabe was quiet for a moment, then said softly, “Perhaps Valten will come back for them, if you wish it.”
“Oh yes! Do you think he would?”
“I think he would.”
Sophie thought for a moment. “Valten must be brave then. And kind.”
Gabe was quiet, so she glanced up at him. He didn’t meet her eye. “He is. He is very brave and strong and capable of rescuing your friends. And I imagine the king will have something to say about the way Duchess Ermengard has treated you after Valten informs him.”
Sophie decided to change the subject again. “Tell me more about your family and your life as a child.”
He gave her a crooked smile. “Do you truly like hearing about it so much?”
“Yes! It fascinates me.” She liked to imagine what it was like to have a real family, and he could tell her. Besides, she wanted to know more about the family she was marrying into, more about her husband to be, and most of all, more about the mother of this family.
Gabe told her stories about all six of his brothers and sisters, but he didn’t mention the sister who died.
“Will your mother have more children?”
He shrugged. “It’s possible, I suppose.” He smiled down at her. “Now it’s your turn, little sister.”
“What do you mean?”
“You have to tell me some stories about you when you were a child.”
Sophie shook her head. “My stories aren’t as interesting as yours.”
“Come now. I’ve told you all my family’s funniest quirks and antics. You must entertain me for a while.”
It was true that she felt she knew his family pretty well now. She even felt she knew Valten. He sounded like a serious child, but even he had had his share of boyish adventures. Any maiden would want to marry him, no doubt. He had everything: wealth, power, fame — especially fame, since he was a tournament champion — a wonderful family, and he would one day be Duke of Hagenheim. He was in a position to make his wife famous as well. But those things weren’t what Sophie had dreamed of. She did not want wealth or fame or power, but simply to be loved, to be cherished, to feel safe, cared for, and protected. She wanted someone to be kind to her and love her.
But a person didn’t always get what they wanted. Sophie knew that all too well. Would Valten love her and cherish her?
“My stories are mostly sad … things you wouldn’t want to hear.”
“No putting me off,” Gabe said as he guided Gingerbread up yet another mountain trail. “We have nothing else to occupy us, and I can handle sad. So start talking.”
Sophie couldn’t help smiling. “Very well. You asked for it.” She would soften her stories as best she could, especially the parts about being hated and mistreated by Duchess Ermengard. Instead, she’d try to mostly talk about the happier stories of Mama Petra and her “sisters,” the other maids.
Gabe listened while Sophie told of climbing trees and swinging on vines while the duchess was having her afternoon nap. She told of one of the stable men falling and breaking his leg and how Sophie, an eleven-year-old girl at the time, had set the bone with two sticks. The man had immediately asked her to marry him. Sophie laughed when she told the story, but she wasn’t laughing at the time, she said. Instead, she had shaken her fist at him and dared him to come near her with such talk, warning him that she would break his other leg if he did so.
She told of rescuing a maiden who’d fallen into an old, dry well. The maiden was unharmed, but the duchess had refused to send a guard to help get her out. So Sophie and another servant had sneaked some rope out of the stable and pulled her up. The duchess had locked Sophie in the dungeon for a day and a night for that.
Sophie certainly had courage. But the duchess locked her in the dungeon for the merest infractions. The duchess’s every whim controlled the castle, and although Sophie had defied her
many times, it also sounded as if Sophie had also tried her best to appease her.
She described a time when, at thirteen years old, her long black hair had been cut up to her ears, because the duchess had flown into a rage. She told about keeping her precious portion of the Bible hidden until the duchess was asleep, only taking it out at night and reading it to the other maids that slept with her in the small chamber off the kitchen. She told about diving into the river to save a sackful of puppies the duchess had ordered destroyed. That was what had gotten her thrown into the dungeon the week before Gabe came.
Her face got sadder as she continued to talk. Perhaps it hadn’t been a good idea to make her talk about her childhood, but he felt a desire to know all about her, all her stories, no matter how sad they were.
“You must hate the duchess. I know I hate her right now.”
“Oh, no!” Sophie got a grave look on her face. She turned and stared at him in a way that forced him to stare back into her blue, blue eyes. “I don’t hate the duchess. I feel sad for her. She is a very miserable person. You mustn’t hate her, either. You mustn’t hate anyone. God says we must love our enemies. The priest said so.”
“Can you honestly say you don’t hate the duchess, after all she’s done to you?”
“I don’t. I won’t let myself. I mustn’t.” She pursed her lips into a grim line.
His heart ached for her. She was so strong and brave, all alone in the world with no one to protect her. No one but God, apparently.
He couldn’t imagine anyone God would want to protect more.
“Promise me,” she said. “Promise you won’t hate the duchess. Tell God you forgive her.”
Gabe took a deep breath and looked into her eyes again. Was she so concerned about his soul? “I promise.” He closed his eyes. Gingerbread was going along an easy trail. “God, I forgive her for all her cruelty, but I know you will make it right in the end. ‘“Vengeance is mine,” says the Lord,’ ” he quoted.
Sophie frowned. “That doesn’t sound so forgiving.”
“That’s the best I can do, I’m afraid.” He saw she was still worried, so he smiled and said, “Don’t worry, Sophie. It’s human nature to be angry at someone who’s been as cruel to you as the duchess has. You should forgive her, but you should forgive yourself too, if you feel angry and unforgiving sometimes. God understands. He’ll help you.”
She stared down at the ground. When she looked up, her expression was such a mixture of doubt and hope. “What makes you think so?”
“The Bible says, ‘There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.’ ”
“Oh. I guess I never had that part. What else does it say?”
He chuckled. “A lot of things. It says if we confess our sins, God will forgive us.”
She got quiet again. They headed up a steeper part of the path, and he leaned forward. Sophie leaned too, and held on to the pommel of the saddle to keep herself steady. Her head was pressed against his chest and her silky hair brushed his chin. He couldn’t help his arms brushing hers as he held the reins and guided the horse up the rocky trail.
Gabe was flirting with disaster. At least that’s what his father had once told him about spending time with a woman he knew he couldn’t marry. His father had also said that Gabe should never, even under the most innocent circumstances, spend the night with a woman. He’d broken that rule last night.
And now Gabe understood why his father had warned him. He felt himself on the verge of thoughts and feelings that
should never be, of being as irresponsible as everyone believed him to be.
Should Gabe have waited and let Valten come to find Sophie when his leg was healed? If Valten and his father and several knights had come, they could have rescued not only Sophie, but Petra and Roslind as well. Had it been against God’s will for Gabe to come? Was Gabe creating a problem for Sophie? Everyone would hear about them being alone together. Would it cause Sophie’s reputation to be disparaged? Reproach that could have been avoided if he’d listened to his father?
Gabe thought back to the day he decided to come search for Sophie himself. He’d felt such an urgency, a lack of peace whenever he thought about waiting, but in truth, he hadn’t worried about whether he was doing the right thing when he left. He hadn’t sought God’s will like he should have. And some of his motives weren’t exactly pure.
In his defense, though, the old woman, Pinnosa, had said it was urgent, that Sophie was in great danger. And now he knew it was true. In fact, the duchess had ordered Lorencz to kill her. If Gabe had waited and let Valten come to rescue her, she might be dead now.
But perhaps the duchess had decided to kill her because of him, because she discovered he was the son of Duke Wilhelm and realized the duke would be coming for her himself.
That thought made him sick. His haste and irresponsibility had put Sophie in danger.
What if it hadn’t been God’s will for him to come? What if it had been Gabe’s impatience, his not caring if it was right, his simply wanting to go off on his own quest to prove himself?
God, forgive me for wanting to be the one to rescue her
. But if Valten made one single disparaging remark about Sophie …
God, I’m sorry. Please don’t let Sophie get hurt
.
As they came down the other side of the mountain, Sophie caught her breath at the sight before her, at the treeless, wide-open space, an entire mountainside covered in wildflowers. She had never seen anything like it. The only flowers she’d ever seen in her life were small forest flowers, mostly tiny white ones. She’d never seen anything like these red-orange blossoms that carpeted the ground in front of her.
Just then, the sun came out from behind a cloud and shone on the beautiful, grassy, flower-covered meadow, lighting the red blossoms and setting them afire.
Sophie tilted her head up to catch the rays on her face. Her eyes closed, she realized she was revisiting her dream. Maybe she
was
dreaming.
“These flowers are so beautiful,” she breathed. “What are they called?”