The Guillotine Survivor

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Jacques led me to a horse that was tied off to a pole.  It was extremely scrawny looking, and I could easily see all of its ribs.  Because Jacques wasn’t planning on a traveling companion, we were forced to ride on the horse together.  Every hill we rode up, I feared that the horse would collapse to the ground, dead.  It looked very malnourished, so it astounded me that it could hold the weight of one person let alone two.  Occasionally, the horse would stumble, and I would clutch onto Jacques for dear life.  He would chuckle and insist that I didn’t have to worry, but I didn’t believe him.

As time passed, I became more comfortable on the horse.  My nerves were still there, but I refused to acknowledge them.  Instead, I spent my time soaking in my surroundings.  Rolling hills and farmland went on for miles in every direction.  You could no longer see the jail or a single town.  I contemplated various ways of telling Jacques my true identity.  I didn’t want to live a lie, but I feared how Jacques would react if I told him I was a noble.

Putting my predicament to the side, I gazed at the scenery around me, shocked that I had never traveled into the countryside before.  It was so beautiful out here with the lush green grass and towering trees filled with ripe fruit of all different sizes and colors.  My life before had been filled with busy cities, rough cobblestone roads, and oh so many petty politics.  There were no normal conversations in my family.  Everything had an ulterior motive behind it.  My parents constantly told me how to dress, what to say, and whom to say it too.  I had felt like just one of their puppets.  Thinking of my parents brought tears to my eyes.  I didn’t want to remember them for their annoying qualities, after all that’s all they were taught.  Instead, I wanted to remember the good times--the times my brother and I would hide in our house and our parents would come and find us, the times we’d have picnics in the backyard, and the times my whole family would dress up as a royal family and drink tea.  Those were the times that I always wanted to remember.

“You okay?” Jacques asked me, turning around to look at me.

“Yes, I’m fine,” I sniffed.

“You’re crying,” Jacques stated in a very matter-of-fact manner.

Quickly, I brushed the tears away from my eyes, ashamed.  “I just miss my family,” I admitted.

“Don’ worry, I’ll find someway ta get ya back to ‘em.  It might take a couple days though.”

“A couple days?”

“Yeah, my family is constantly working, and fer these next couple of days, I need ta ‘elp out in tha jails aroun’ town.”

“You’re going back to the jail?” I gasped.

“I have to,” Jacques sighed.  “You saw what they did ta ev’ryone against their cause.  If I don’ pitch in, they’ll assume I’m an enemy of tha people an’ take me out like ev’ryone else.  I need ta protect my family, don’ ya understand?”

“But what about the prisoners’ families?  Don’t they matter at all?”

“They ‘ad their chance,” Jacques whispered, looking straight ahead.

“Many of those people did nothing wrong!  Their only offense was to be born into the wrong family line,” I argued.

“They’ve used tha’ ta their advantage!  Them nobles and rich folks think they can do wha’ever they want with us.  We’re jus’ some scum on tha bottom of their shoes.  People are dying, Selene.  If somethin’ isn’t done, we’re all gonna starve ta death.”

“So instead, you’d rather they die.”

“Sometimes, a few mus’ be sacrificed fer the many.”