The Man in the Iron Mask and the Girl in the Iron Chains

Chapter 3: Iron

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SOME MATURE CONTENT. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

"Lavena, Lavena wake up."

I open my eyes, quickly realizing that the carriage had stopped.

"How long-"

"Hours." Philippe interrupts.

I glance at him, the bags under his eyes show me that he had not slept.

"You need rest." I sigh.

He shakes his head, "I'll be fine."

The doors of the carriage open and the same man that held a sword to my throat grabs Philippe and pulls him out.

Two other men grab my arms and drag me out behind him.

The light of the sun blinds me, and I stumble, unable to see where they are dragging me. I feel them bind my hands together. Suddenly everything is dark again. They had placed a bag over my head, they cinch it up around my neck and continue to drag me along.

I listen as I am pulled along, I can hear the sound of water. We must be near the coast or a river.

I am lifted up and I assume placed in a boat, they force me to sit.

There is no point in trying to escape, I can't out run them, I also can't see. There is nothing I can do to get us out of here.

I'm sure that Philippe is on the boat too. The men row for a while, I'm not sure how long, but I think I know where we are going.

The boat comes to a stop and I am lifted out of it then shoved along.

I listen as a door is opened and I am shoved in, other footsteps follow.

Chains clink together as they are locked around Philippe's wrists.

Suddenly the bag is torn off my head and I see Philippe sitting across from me, restrained by two new men. A fire blazes behind him.

"I demand you release her, she does not deserve this fate!" Philippe exclaims, struggling against the men.

"She deserves it just as much as you." The man who almost slit my throat comes away from the fire. He wears black with a large hat of the same color.

In his gloved hands he holds two metal tongs, those hold a red hot pair of iron shackles. I see no locks on them.

He comes toward me as the men untie my wrists. I try to back away but only succeed in backing myself up against a wall.

"Please don't do this!" Philippe begs.

"Please-" I start but the red hot shackles are clamped down on my wrists. My plea for mercy morphs into screams of pain. Where a lock would be inserted, the man presses together the lips of the iron. The heat fuses it together.

"Stop it! Stop it, you're hurting her!" Philippe yells.

I continue to scream, the pain searing like the flames of hell. The man in black dunks my wrists into a bucket of water, cooling the iron, thus sealing my fate and any hope of escape.

Philippe struggles trying to get to me, but the man in black turns to him, "Your turn."

He turn to a table then lifts up a large chunk of iron.

"Leave him be! Just leave him if it's me you want!" I cry.

Then he encloses Philippe in the iron mask.

I scream and struggle. "You can't do this! You can't! The King will hear of this!"

"You need to shut your mouth, girl." The man sneers.

I glance at Philippe, who can't even lift his head.

"Make me." I hiss.

"That can be arranged. Clear her back." He barks.

The two men tear at my dress until my entire upper body is exposed. A sudden feeling of helplessness settles on my chest.

The man comes at me now with a hot branding iron. He thrusts it against my shoulder blade as he clamps his hand over my mouth, muffling my screams.

"You are a slave now. You do whatever you are told and do not talk back. If anyone hears another word from your mouth the next brand will be on your cheek." He whispers, then let's go of me as I shake with silent sobs and the fear of more pain.

"Get them out of here." He shoos.

The two men drag Philippe and I away. They shove us into a cell.

The warden walks up with a book, glances at Philippe, then speaking out loud as he writes,

He then turns to me,

He then disappears, the door is closed and locked.

I glance at Philippe who lays unmoving on the floor, we are now prisoners in the Bastille.