The Golden Braid Read online

  Rapunzel listened in rapt attention, glad the duke’s son had not married the haughty Rainhilda. Perhaps the woman should marry Sir Gerek. But even Sir Gerek didn’t deserve someone as unkind as Rainhilda. Rapunzel’s cheeks were still stinging from the insults.

  Mother could always find out the gossip of a new village within the first few days after arriving.

  Mother walked a bit faster. “We are near the Marktplatz, so be looking out for pregnant women.”

  Fortunately, Mother didn’t force Rapunzel to assist with the births she attended, as Mother’s grandmother had forced her to do when she was a child. Sometimes Rapunzel did come along, if Mother thought it was to be a long labor, and she would bathe the laboring mother’s face or run and fetch things. But being at the birth of a baby made her weak in the knees and light-headed. The smells and the moans made her want to run far away. Sometimes she would take the older children and play with them outside, to distract them—and herself—from the suffering. But mostly Mother allowed Rapunzel to stay home when she went to conduct her midwife duties.

  Soon Mother, with her keen eyesight, saw not one but two women great with child, and she approached them and began speaking with them about their babies. Was this their first child? How had the births of the previous children gone? Were they looking for a midwife? Mother would allow them to pay with whatever they had if they would allow her to help birth their babies and tell their friends about her.

  The conversation was a long one, as women seemed to love telling the details of their previous labors. So Rapunzel continued to look around at all the different styles of clothing.

  There were almost as many styles of headdress as there were women, and the men’s clothing was just as varied. No one wore the plain browns and grays that everyone wore in the villages. How plain Rapunzel must have looked to Sir Gerek, in her brown and green and gray kirtles, he who was accustomed to seeing beautiful clothing on the young maidens of Hagenheim.

  How would Rapunzel manage to get these kinds of beautiful, colorful clothes? She was working at the monastery, but they were not paying her. What could she do to earn money? Perhaps she could find some other kind of job in Hagenheim.

  Who might want to hire her? There were shops all around. Some sold candles, some sold cloth and other goods, some sold meat, and who knew what else. She doubted she could get hired in a shop wearing the rustic woolen kirtles she owned. Perhaps she could get a job cleaning.

  When Mother was finished talking with the two pregnant women, they moved on to the Marktplatz. Today was a market day, so the open space, which was paved with cobblestones, was crowded with sellers and buyers and goods of all kinds. But what caught Rapunzel’s eye was the magnificent castle just beyond.

  Five towers, four of them round and the middle one square, loomed over the three-, four-, and five-story buildings surrounding the Marktplatz. The gray stone of Hagenheim Castle, which her mother had told her of, seemed to gleam in the morning sunlight, with a spot of color in the window of what must have been the stained glass in the castle chapel. What wonders lay inside those magnificent stone walls?

  Perhaps she could get a job cleaning the castle. She could be a maidservant! Surely they would not mind her rustic clothing and would allow her to clean or fetch or start fires in the many rooms.

  “What is the matter with you?” Mother said. “I walked away and lost you. You look moonstruck.” Mother looked over her shoulder at what Rapunzel had been gazing at. “Enchanted by your first glimpse of a castle? Humph. It’s only stone and mortar. Don’t be so impressed. Those who live in castles are no better than anyone else, no matter what they think.”

  Rapunzel tore her eyes away from the castle and stayed close to Mother as she wove in and out among all the people. Of all the goods that the vendors were selling, the things she most longed for were the bolts of colored fabric. What would it be like to dress every day in red or pink or blue or purple? How would it feel to be unafraid to wear her hair free and flowing over her shoulders?

  Mother found some more women to talk to about childbearing, and Rapunzel stood nearby, absentmindedly rubbing the scar on her palm with her thumb.

  Standing at the east end of the Marktplatz, few people traveled in and out of the castle gate. As she watched a guard speaking to someone, she felt a prickling at the back of her neck, as if someone was watching her. She glanced to her right and immediately saw the man who had attacked her and her mother, the one with the strange smile. He stood staring at her.

  A rush of air stuck in her throat.

  Rapunzel turned and grabbed Mother’s arm. “Mother, it’s him! That man!”

  Mother seemed reluctant to be interrupted, but turned and frowned at Rapunzel. “What? What is it?”

  “It’s the man who nearly killed Sir Gerek and tried to rob us! The smiling one. He was over by the fountain in the middle of the Marktplatz.” She turned her head one way, then another, but didn’t see him. Would he try to follow them home? Would he come and kill them tonight in their beds? A shudder went across her shoulders.

  But Mother had already turned back to resume her conversation with the women. Rapunzel searched the crowd for him, but he seemed to have vanished.

  What could she do? Who could she tell? Sir Gerek would certainly be interested. Perhaps he could send word to someone who could help them find the man and imprison him in Duke Wilhelm’s dungeon.

  When Mother finally finished her conversation, she said, “Do you see him now?”

  Rapunzel shook her head. How could her mother be so calm? She was so much braver than Rapunzel. They continued walking among the vendors in the Marktplatz, her mother talking with women she saw along the way. Rapunzel became enamored again with looking at all the pretty things and forgot about her sighting of the brigand until they were leaving.

  Rapunzel kept looking over her shoulder for the man. They passed through the town gate and headed into the trees toward their own little house in the woods.

  “Mother, do you think he is following us?”

  “If he does, we will surprise him with another knife, and this time you might find his heart, hmm?”

  Rapunzel stared at her mother. She appeared perfectly calm. “I-I don’t want to stab him in the heart, Mother. I’d prefer he be caught and we not have to face him again.”

  “Of course, I would prefer the same, but if he does come looking for us, I know you have the skill to kill him this time, instead of just wounding him. Yes?”

  “I suppose so.” She didn’t enjoy the thought, but yes, if the man came to their home, if he tried to hurt her or her mother, she supposed she could kill him. But for pity’s sake, O Father God in heaven, don’t let it come to that.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was late afternoon, and Gerek figured Rapunzel probably wasn’t coming for her reading lesson. Not that he minded, but her presence did keep him from feeling as if the day was taking forever to end, and from wondering if he would be able to last five more weeks without going mad.

  He had the time and the resources to study—Brother Andrew had brought him several books to read, some in French and Latin. But he wanted to be doing something. He was unused to lying in bed day after day. Brother Andrew had also brought him some things to copy, but they were dull letters and documents, and the work was tedious.

  A knock sounded on the door. “Come in,” he called, relieved to have someone to talk to.

  The door opened and Rapunzel stood, breathing hard. She came inside but left the door open.

  He scowled to mask how pleased he was to see her. “Were you running?”

  She nodded, then swallowed, catching her breath. Some strands of hair had worked loose from the close-fitting head covering and lay haphazardly over her shoulders. Her golden-blond hair contrasted with her brown brows and lashes, bringing out the blue of her eyes. His heartbeat grew fast.

  He must be addled from lying around too much. He shouldn’t be noticing her hair color or how beautiful her eyes were.


  “I saw the man, the one who attacked my mother and me.”

  He sat up straighter. “Where?”

  “He was in the Marktplatz in Hagenheim. He was standing by the fountain, and he saw me too.”

  He pushed himself up to stand, then hit his fist against the bed. If only he did not have this broken leg! He would go after the man at this very moment. He would scour Hagenheim until he found him.

  “I sent a message to my fellow knights in Hagenheim to be watching for him, but I shall send them another note to say he is in Hagenheim.” Little good that would do since those men did not know what he looked like. Gerek growled.

  “What should I do if I see him again?”

  “Stay away from him, but go and find one of the guards. Here, I will write a note for you to give them. When they see my signature, they will know you are telling the truth.” He reached for a piece of paper from the stack he was using to copy documents, carefully tore off a smaller piece, and wrote the missive.

  “Do you think they would not believe me without your authorization?”

  Another growl made its way into his throat, but he pushed it down.

  “They would probably believe you, but this will give you extra credibility. With this, they will take him straight to the dungeon without question.”

  She nodded and placed the piece of paper in her skirt pocket. “I must go now.”

  “You will not stay for a reading lesson?”

  “No, I only came to tell you about seeing . . . him. I will try to come back tomorrow.”

  He nodded, trying to look disinterested. She turned to leave.

  “Wait.” He reached into his leather money pouch, which he still kept attached to his belt. “Take this money. Go to the market in Hagenheim and buy yourself a new knife.”

  “I do not want your money.” Rapunzel shook her head, her brows lowered in a troubled expression.

  “It is to replace the knife you threw at the man when he was about to attack me. I do not want you to be without a knife. You need it to defend yourself.”

  Her gaze flicked from the money in his hand to his face. She shook her head again. “I have already replaced my knife.” She lifted the flap on the leather purse attached to her belt. She slipped out a short dagger, then pushed it back in and closed the flap over the handle. “I found it in the cart our attackers abandoned.”

  “You lost your other one defending me. It is only right that I replace it.” He thrust the money at her again.

  Still, she shook her head. “I thank you, but I do not need it. Good day, Sir Gerek.”

  As soon as she was gone, he sighed. He placed his hands over his face and rubbed—rubbed his eyes, his cheeks, his growing beard. If only he could get on his horse, ride to Hagenheim Castle, and forget the last few days had ever happened.

  Rapunzel carried her pottery water jar to the stream that was a short distance through the trees behind their house. Her hair flowed down her back, the air tugging it and tossing the shorter strands into her face. Her stomach clenched at the thought of someone seeing her—at what her mother would say if she saw her wandering around outside like this, reveling in the freedom of having her hair flowing and uncovered. How many times had her mother told her it was shameful to leave her hair exposed? How she hissed at Rapunzel when her head covering shifted and exposed an inch of her hair.

  She walked down the bank to the bend in the stream where a small pool of water had collected, left behind by the swifter current. Rapunzel set her bucket down and stretched out on her stomach, lying with her head hanging over the edge, careful to hold her hair back so it didn’t get wet. She gazed down at her reflection.

  In the still water, her hair formed a halo around her head and face. Was this how she looked when her hair hung loose? She turned her head one way, then the other. She smiled at her own foolishness, looking at herself so long. Mother would scold her and say she was vain.

  She looked different without her hair severely drawn back from her face and covered. She looked . . . pretty.

  If she were to walk around Hagenheim like this, would young men take a second look at her? Would they approach her and flatter her? Would people think she was pretty? Worthy? Important?

  Rapunzel drew in a breath. Was that why Mother never wanted anyone to see her hair? Not because it was shameful or immodest, but because Mother was afraid men would notice her and desire her?

  Being cautious of men, avoiding them, seemed like a good thing mothers should teach their daughters. But . . . were all men bad? Or had Mother instilled an unhealthy fear in Rapunzel?

  She tried to think of a man she had known in the villages where they had lived who had seemed good. She remembered a few kindhearted priests and friars. Brother Andrew at the monastery had seemed gentle and good. And even though Sir Gerek was arrogant, she had never seen any licentiousness in his eyes, nor any malice.

  Thinking critical thoughts of Mother made her stomach clench. But she had always known she was not like other mothers. She loved Rapunzel, and Rapunzel loved her in return, but more and more, she felt a restlessness inside her to be free of her mother’s control. After all, Rapunzel was nineteen years old or possibly even older. Most women her age were married and had one or two children.

  She pressed her hand to her cheek as she gazed into the water. Would Mother be able to see the disloyal thoughts in Rapunzel’s face?

  But if Rapunzel were married, wouldn’t she only be exchanging her mother’s control for her husband’s? If she were free from her mother, she would have to support herself and take care of herself—protect herself.

  If she had some sort of job, she could do it. If she were to become a maidservant at Hagenheim Castle, she would have food, the protection of the castle, and perhaps a little money to buy clothing for herself. She was learning to read, which might make her more valuable as a servant.

  She must make Sir Gerek teach her Latin, too, and to write in both languages. She hated feeling ignorant and poor and awkward even more now that she had seen the beautiful city of Hagenheim and its people, with their confident expressions and their colorful clothing.

  She looked at herself in the still pool one more time before standing up and running her fingers through her ankle-length hair. She played with it, tossed it, wound it around her hand, and finally tied it in a loose knot at the base of her neck.

  Picking up her water bucket, she fetched water from the stream and carried it toward home.

  There was more cheer and good spirits on the streets of Hagenheim than in any village she had ever lived. She wanted that same confidence and joy. And as long as she lived with Mother, she didn’t think she would ever have it.

  After two weeks of Rapunzel coming for her reading lesson almost every day, Gerek could almost anticipate her knock. Today he kept glancing at the door. She had not come the day before, so he was sure she would today.

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. In a few more weeks he could again fill his mind—and his time—with jousting practice and strategizing over which wealthy heiress he might marry.

  The knock came.

  “Come in,” he called to her familiar tapping.

  “How are you feeling today, Sir Gerek?”

  He frowned instead of answering her question.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. But I’m sure you will be much more cheerful when your leg is healed and you do not have to lay in bed all day.”

  Her smile inexplicably reminded him of Lady Rose. With so much time to think, his thoughts had drifted back to how Lady Rose had taken care of him when he had broken his arm as a young squire. In spite of the fact that her own little girl had drowned around that same time, she had taken an interest in him. She insisted he stay, not with the other squires, but in a tiny room off her son’s chamber so she and the castle healer, Frau Geruscha, could keep a closer eye on him. That was when he and Valten had become close friends.

  They had grown up together, trained together, and Gerek had appre
ciated Lady Rose’s gentleness, along with Duke Wilhelm’s uprightness and sense of justice and fairness. Valten would never know how fortunate he was to have such good and honorable parents.

  “You look very thoughtful today,” she said after taking off her patched and mended cloak and sitting down on the stool beside him. “What are you thinking about?”

  “Nothing.”

  She lifted her brows and twisted her mouth.

  “I was thinking of the last time I broke my arm. I was probably about eight or nine years old.”

  She nodded. “Did you have someone then who could splint it for you?”

  “Yes.” He vividly remembered how terrified he was of the old healer. “I was a squire at Hagenheim Castle. Lady Rose took care of me as if she were my own mother.”

  “She must be very kind.”

  “Ja, she is. Her oldest son, Valten, is only one year older than I. She made sure no one mistreated me while I was recuperating. Before I came to Hagenheim, I had been a page at a castle to the west of here, for the Earl of Keiterhafen. The pages and squires were not treated nearly so well there.”

  “I am very glad you came to Hagenheim, then.” There was a soft, sweet look about her eyes and around her mouth that sent his mind back to the night he had listened to her singing and had felt a sweet ache in his chest. He had the same ache now as he looked at her.

  “Why do you keep your hair covered?” He asked the question before he had time to think better of it.

  Her cheeks turned pink and she stared down at her lap. “It is strange, isn’t it? My mother, she insists I not show my hair.”

  “But why? Is it green or purple or some other strange color?” That seemed to amuse her and she smiled at him. “Are you a fairy changeling with pointed ears?”