The Servant Girl
by Alpesco
A servant upsets the balance of power.


The horses pulled our coach along dusty roads toward the family chateau in
Burgundy. Opposite me sat Michelle, a new servant appointed by my Uncle, the
Duke of Rhienne to accompany me back from Paris. At nineteen, Michelle was
four years younger than me, but she was three inches taller at five feet nine.
In fact, she was as tall as most men, and taller than some. Also in the
jolting carriage was my old companion and Governess, Madame Wittier - a large
woman of forty-five years, who had been with me since I was nine.

My father had died just five months ago, in April 1649, and I, the Lady
Leonora, as his only child, would shortly become his heir.

Michelle wore a dark red dress with few frills, except for a plain collar and
cuffs. She wore a plain leather belt from which hung a small purse and some
keys. She was quite good-looking, with her clear face and long dark hair, I
had to admit, and she was well shaped and slim.

It was on the third night of our journey, at an inn on the road that the
trouble began. "I work for your uncle and guardian, the Duke," Michelle said
as she hung up my dress. "Besides serving you, I am to protect you, and see
that his orders are carried out."

"And where is my uncle?" I asked, sitting on the bed in my linen shift.

"At the moment, he is serving the king in the Low Countries, my lady,"
Michelle said. "That is why he sent me, along with this coach, to bring you
home to the Castle. There you will await his return."

"I grew up in that chateau," I said. "Is it to be my inheritance?"

"At the moment it is in the posession of your Uncle, Duke Louis. I do not know
what is in your father's will."

"Before we go there," I said. "I wish to break the journey at the town of
Dijon. I have some friends there that I met in Paris. I promised to visit for
a few days."

"That will not be possible," Michelle said. "Your uncle's instructions are to
go straight home to the Chateau d'Unay.

"A day or two's delay will make little difference," I said. "My uncle won't be
back for weeks. I've already told the coachman to take the road to Dijon
tomorrow."

"Then I will un-tell him," Michelle stood. "Your uncle's orders are that there
be no diversions."

"You can't tell me what to do!" I blazed, rising to my feet. "I am the Lady
d'Unay!"

"I obey your uncle, the Duke," the servant girl frowned. "I am to obey you
unless it goes against the duke's orders. But if you disobey his instructions,
I am to ensure that things go according to his wishes."

"You would give me orders?" I shouted. "You're just a peasant girl - a
servant! You will do what I tell you!" I strode toward the door.

At once the tall girl stepped in front of me, barring my way. "Things have
changed, princess," she said with a sneer. "In Paris, perhaps, you ordered
people about like dogs. Now you must learn to obey the orders of your uncle,
the Duke."

"I will not obey YOU!" I tried to push past her, shouting out "Madame Wittier.
Madame Wittier!"

But then Michelle laid hands on me, gripping my arms just below the shoulders
with her long hands, and holding me still. The immediate thing that startled
me was that she was so strong! Her grip on my shoulders was like iron, and I
couldn't twist free. In fact her grip was really hurting! The flesh of my
upper arms was being crushed into the bone. "Get your hands of me, peasant!" I
spat.

The nineteen year-old frowned, released my left shoulder, and drew back her
arm. There was a blur, a flash of light and then an intense afterburn of pain.
I began to realize that she had slapped me! For a moment I was in shock. Such
a thing had never happened before! The pain was incredible, searing across the
left side of my face lik acid. I screamed, clutching at my face. My head was
spnning. The blow had been so hard!

In a fury, I tried to strike back. But the girl stopped my right hand with
contemptuous ease, catching it in her left. And she was so strong! I cried out
in pain as her hand crushed my wrist so hard the bones grated, and bent it
backward, twisting. I tried to struggle as I moaned in pain. "Bitch!" I spat.

That was a bad mistake. For she slapped me again, even harder, still crushing
my wrist with her left. The second blow was terrifying - even harder than the
first. I felt as if my face would sear right off the bones. The pain was
unbelievable! The whole left side of my face was burning and blistering. I
felt my lip swell. My eye began to close. My head spun. I screamed again, then
began crying and gasping for breath. I began to shiver uncontrollably. I'd
never experienced pain on this level before.

"You're so strong!" I gasped.

"I've always been very strong," Michelle said. "From a small child I could
clasp grown people about the legs and pick them up. At ten I could beat up
fifteen year-olds and outrun adults. And unlike you I have worked hard all my
life. So don't even think you can fight me. I've decided to inflict a sharp
dose of pain now to show you what I can do, and to teach you a lesson. Now do
you want to be sensible - or do you want more?" she said, her left hand still
crushing my right. I saw that her right hand was poised to deliver another
slap.

"No! No please!" I fell on my knees in terror. I knew I had no chance against
this girl's brutal strength. I'd had more success play-wrestling with my
Cousin Henri than this. At least there was some give in his arms. And he
didn't hit with such frightening power. Michelle's arms were like steel.

Michelle looked down at me in a mixture of triumph and contempt. She knew she
was in complete control.

"Who is in charge on this journey?" she asked, her arm still raised.

"You are." I whimpered. I had betrayed my noble ancestry, submitting to this
peasant serving girl. But Michelle was too strong. Her powerful arm was
poised, ready to punish me again if I disobeyed - and I couldn't face any more
pain on that level.

"You hurt me!" I whimpered.

"I can do a lot worse than that," the tall girl frowned. "Now let it be
understood. You will obey me on this journey, because I represent your uncle.
When I give an order you will obey me as you would obey him, understand?" I
nodded, wondering why my cries had not been heard. But the inn walls were
thick, and the sounds of music and dancing were coming from below.

"Then the room door suddenly opened. It was Madame Wittier my loyal governess.
Here was help at last! She was nearly as tall as Michelle and far heavier.

"What is happening here?" the forty-five year old demanded.

"Help me!" I said, pointing at Michelle. "She attacked me!"

"What?" she stared at me, then strode angrily toward Michelle. "What have you
done to my charge?"

But Michelle stood her ground against the older, heavier woman. She raised her
long arms, reaching them forward to grasp those of the angry governess. The
outraged Wittier grasped the sleeves of Michelle's dress, and in the tussle
ripped both of them right off. This exposed Michelle's bare arms from the
shoulder. They looked even longer now, and were clothed in a lean layer of
visible muscle that looked surprisingly dense and hard. The muscle rippled
gently as Michelle snaked her arms round to catch hold of the governess's
wrists.

Madame Wittier was a different proposition to me, I reassured myself. She was
heavier, stronger. She would surely overcome the insubordinate nineteen
year-old. However Michelle's arms, though thinner than the older woman's
quickly proved to be at least as strong. I was dismayed to see that the
governess was clearly having trouble controlling them. Her face was red and
flustered, while the nineteen year-old's face was contemptuous as her long
arms held Madame Wittier's at full stretch, and then began to force them back!
Even as she did this, Michelle's long legs were driving the heavier woman
remorselessly back toward the far wall. Before I realised what was happening,
Michelle had the larger woman pinned against the stone wall.

I could see Madame Wittier straining to free herself from Michelle's powerful
arms, but she couldn't move.

I wondered if I should go to her aid, but at that moment cowardice got the
better of me. My wrists were bruised and hurting where Michelle had gripped
them. My upper arms were stiff, and I was still in a lot of pain from my face.
I didn't dare risk another blow from Michelle.

"Let me go, you disgusting peasant!!" Madame Wittier raised her booted foot,
and stamped hard on Michelle's foot.

I saw a flash of anger sweep across the tall girl's face. She took a half step
back, her right arm drawing back as her hand balled into a blocky fist. Then
it unleashed.

CRACKKK! It was a huge punch. I'd only ever seen anything like it once before,
from my carriage window, as I watched two cargo-handlers fight near the docks.
The harsh sound of the impact re-echoed round the room. Madame Wittier
screamed and crashed into the stone wall. I was shocked. Michelle was a pretty
girl, four years younger than me, but the power those long arms of hers could
produce was frightening. The forty year-old woman cried out, a dark bruise
marking her face. She backed away as she tried to remain standing..

"Never do that to me again!" Michelle said in a steely voice.

My governess was holding the side of her face and moaning. She looked in
shock. Then something, perhaps the pain, drove Madame Wittier forward once
more.

Michelle was more than ready for her. CRACK! KROOM! Two more huge punches
crashed into the woman's face and body. Again I gasped at the appalling power
the nineteen year-old could unleash. Madame Wittier crashed heavily to the
floor, cowering and moaning.

Michelle knelt, swept an arm round her neck from behind and squeezed until the
larger woman went limp.

She was unconscious. Now Michelle's strong arms drove beneath Wittier's body
and lifted. Incredibly the lighter young woman lifted the unconscious body of
the governess in her arms. Her look was contemptuous as she stared down at the
heavy burden her strong arms had already rendered unconscious. The nineteen
year-old had hit her just three times, and the larger woman was no longer
capable of any further resistance, let alone of intervening on my behalf.

I could see the strong muscles swell in Michelle's arms as she carried her
over to the bed, dumped her on it and began to rip strips from her petticoat
which she used to bind her arms and legs and gag her. When satisfied, she
turned back to me,

"What are you going to do now?" I asked.

"What the Duke ordered. I'm taking you back to the chateau. And that thing
will come with us." She nodded toward Wittier. "But she will travel as
baggage. I would leave her here at the inn, but she would only try and make
trouble."

I was silent. Having seen what Michelle had just done to a woman a lot bigger
and stronger than me, I knew I had no chance at all of resisting her.

Michelle ordered me to bed, where I spent a pain-filled night trying to ignore
the burning stinging from my damaged face. Michelle handed me some cream to
smooth on it, but it didn't help much, and by morning the whole left side of
my face was one swollen darkening bruise.

"How can I travel like this?" I wailed.

"It's not on your backside is it?" Michelle scowled, taking off her
nightshift. "I can put a bruise much worse than that there, if I choose." I
believed her. Her whole body was lean and solidly muscled. Even her stomach
was a rippling sheet of muscle that looked dense enough to stop a pikestaff.

"What about Madame Wittier?" I pointed to the figure rolling about where
Michelle had left her, still bound and gagged, but now clearly conscious.

"No trouble." the teenager emptied a big trunk of my dresses then strode
across to the governess and lifted her right up off the bed in her arms. Again
she took the big weight so easily it was shocking. Wittier weighed a lot more
than her, but the tall servant girl carried her with ease. I could see Wittier
try to struggle, but it made absolutely no impression on the strong nineteen
year-old, who lowered the squirming governess to her feet, then applied
another crushing armlock about her neck until she was unconscious once more.

Taking the unconscious forty-five year-old up into her arms once more, she
lowered her into the trunk. Piling in a couple of dresses on top of her, she
brought down the lid and locked it.

The inn servants struggled with the heavy trunk on the way down, but then they
had struggled with my trunks on the way up. Michelle made me wear a travelling
hood to hide my bruised face, putting on one of my simpler dresses to replace
the one Wittier had torn. Then she wrapped me in blankets, picked me up in her
arms and carried me out of the room. She took me briskly along the open
landing, then downstairs to the coach, ordering me not to say a word. "If I
slap you again now," she said. "The scarring to your face may become
permanent. Don't force me to do it."

I shuddered. I prized my good looks. I feared this girl ruining them, which
she clearly could if she chose, so I kept very still in Michelle's strong
arms. "My lady is unwell," Michelle explained as she carried me past the
innkeeper.

"Where is Madame Wittier?" Gaudion the coach driver asked.

"She is in the trunk," Michelle nodded to the large trunk strapped on to the
back of the coach. "It's the best place for her. Now drive."

"Please," I whispered to the coachman. "Stop her!"

"I do what the mademoiselle says," he grunted.

That's when I saw Robert, strapping down the last of the baggage. I had almost
forgotten him. He was about eighteen. He had served in Paris with me, and was
acting as the coachman's assistant. He, at least, was not an ally of my
captor.

I ran across to him. "You have to help me," I whispered. "Michelle has hurt
me," I pointed to my bruise, "and wants to force me to do as she says."

"I'll protect you, my lady," Robert strode toward Michelle. I noted that he
was at least an inch taller than her. "I don't like the way you have been
treating my lady," he said.

"Do you not?" Michelle turned away from him. "Well I have been obeying her
uncle's orders, and you had better do the same, if you do not want to receive
a most severe punishment."

Robert grabbed her shoulder and hauled her back around to face him..

"Don't threaten me..." he began.

Michelle did not hesitate. From somewhere down beside her hip, I saw her fist
strike upward with blinding speed to impact just beaneath the eighteen
year-old's jaw.

Crack! There was a groan of pain from Robert as he was sent reeling back into
the side of the carriage. Stunned by the unexpected speed and power of the
blow, the teenager hit the carriage door hard, rebounded, and reeled forward.
That was when Michelle really let go.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK. CRACKK! CRRAACCKK! Five huge blows powered into him in
the space of three seconds as the tall nineteen year-old cut loose with a
dark, cold fury. Each blow struck the eighteen year-old appallingly hard,
somewhere about the head; all five impacting fiercely, without any respite or
let-up. Completely overwhelmed by this unexpected storm of punches, Robert
crashed into the carriage door once more, and was pinned there by the power of
Michelle's fierce chain of blows until the fury subsided. I think the boy was
unconscious by the time the fourth blow hit, but the sheer force of the blows
kept him upright. Only as Michelle drew a breath and stepped back, did he
slump, bleeding to the sawdust, to lie, senseless at Michelle's feet.

I gasped. I'd never seen a female knock out a male like that before - and in a
way it was strangely thrilling.

Michelle looked down at him as if he were some insect she had just stepped on.
Gaudion continued securing the coach as if nothing had happened.

Michelle turned, and brusquely ordered me to my seat in the carriage.

"Is he all right?" I asked.

"He'll live." She gave him a kick with her shoe. "You will find that I do not
like it when people defy me."

As I got into the coach I heard him groan, then saw him begin to move. After a
few moments he had come round enough to try to rise. He got to his knees and
finally stood, but he was swaying and looked half knocked-out on his feet,
struggling to stand.

Michelle stepped in front of him. "Now you do not touch me again," she said.
"You do not disobey me. You do not question my orders,"

Robert swayed and stumbled forward, his face cut and bloodied. But in his eyes
I could see a blazing thirst for revenge. He launched a sudden, raking swing
at her. But Michelle's right arm was already primed and ready. She just swayed
out of the way of the stable lad's clumsy punch, and turned the power on
again.

CRACKK! CRACCKK! Two startlingly heavy punches tore into Robert's unprotected
head from two opposing directions. How could so slim a body generate so much
power? I was sure that the pistol-crack of Michelle's harsh blows must be
audible inside the inn. Robert was sent crashing heavily into the wide
carriage wheel and went straight back down. In his current state he clearly
had no chance at all against the muscular young woman who stood in front of
him. Michelle was simply much stronger, faster, and meaner than he was. Where
Robert looked young, awkward and gangly for his height. Michelle, at nearly
the same height, looked athletic, strong, and purposeful in her movements.

The boy took several minutes to recover consciousness. And when he did, I
could see that the fight had gone out of him. Bloodied and bruised, he used
the wheel to help him clamber to his feet, spitting the blood from his mouth.
I could see he was frightened that Michelle might hit him again, and he tried
to keep out of her reach.

Michelle clearly enjoyed her new mastery. "Stand still." she ordered. The
barrage of punches she had just delivered didn't seem to have taken anything
out of her at all, although they had done such obvious harm to Robert. She
looked entirely fresh and untroubled.

"Climb up on the seat beside Gaudion," she ordered. "And do everything he
tells you - or when we get to the chateau I will have you whipped."

Wordlessly, the stable lad obeyed. He looked beaten and demoralized. Gaudion
took up the reins as Michelle climbed into the carriage, and we drove out of
the inn yard and back onto the road west.

The journey was long and bumpy, and the road was largely empty until late in
the afternoon, when three men on horseback appeared on the road behind us.

"I don't like the look of those men," Michelle called up to the driver. "Go
faster!"

The coach speeded up, but the riders increased their pace behind us.

"How far are we from the Chateau?" I asked.

"Another seven miles.." Michelle began. then there was a huge lurch and a
crash, as the coach struck a pothole at speed. The carriage skidded and there
was a deep crack as the right wheel broke. The carriage slumped to one side.

"Quick. Get out!" Michelle ordered, pushing open the far-side door. We
stumbled out to see the three horsemen speeding toward us.

"Stay away from the coach!" Gaudion the coachman shouted as the men
approached. He pointed an ancient musket at them.

"Are they bandits?" Robert asked. Gaudion nodded.

"Pass me that bow." Michelle pointed to a thick wooden longbow strapped to the
roof of the carriage.

Robert took the bow down and tried to draw it, but it wouldn't budge more than
a few inches.

"It is too strong for you," Michelle said, taking it from him. Bracing her
arms, she drew it fully back. "This has well over a hundred and twenty pounds
of force," she said. "It's very powerful."

The three men drew to a halt fifty paces from the coach.

"Stop exactly where you are!" Michelle said.

"And if we don't?" the first of the three riders responded.

"We have weapons," said Gaudion.

"So do we." The man drew a sword. "An old man, a boy and two women will not
trouble us. You shouldn't have tried to outrun us. Now we will take everything
you carry."

"I told you not to come any closer." The big bow creaked beside me, humming
with power as Michelle's strong arms drew it back to its full extent. There
was a thick steel-tipped arrow nocked on the bowstring.

"Forward!" the leader urged his horse forward. Michelle squinted as she
released the drawstring. There was a whirr of power from the bow as the arrow
sped toward the advancing rider.

Hissssssss... Thunk!

I watched in horror as the arrow tore into the flank of the leading rider's
horse, and sank deep in. Michelle had missed! The horse screamed and reared as
Michelle's strong arms drew the heavy bow again. An instant later, another
arrow whined through the air on its deadly flight path, this time driving deep
into the horse's chest. I was surprised at the power with which the steel
arrow tore into the animal, sinking over a foot deep. The animal screamed
again, then fell like a sack of stones, sending its rider crashing to the
ground.

Another arrow flew. A second rider screamed in pain as a thick steel arrow
tore into his hip. There was a spray of blood as the arrow crashed straight
through to emerge on the other side. He fell to the ground, howling in agony.
I heard a loud bang as the coachman's gun went off. The third horse screamed
and bolted with its rider.

The first man struggled to his feet beside his fallen horse. I realised now
that the horse was quite dead. The second arrow from Michelle's bow must have
penetrated to the heart. .

I heard another creak from Michelle's bow as the man began to run at us, sword
in hand. But the arrow was faster. It whistled through the air to strike him
in the shoulder. The sharp steel arrowhead made a thunking, tearing sound as
it ripped through leather, flesh and bone. the force of the impact spun the
charging man round through 140 degrees, and sent him crashing to the ground.

I saw him struggling, trying to get up, as the blood poured from his shoulder.
He tried to tear the arrow out, but it had gone right through his shoulder
joint and out the other side. It was fixed tight. Michelle lowered the bow as
he began to moan in pain along with his injured companion.

"You better take your friend and leave," Michelle said. "If you stay here,
you'll both bleed to death."

I watched them rise and hobble away down the road, the first rider supporting
his more badly-injured companion.

"We're not far from the chateau now," Michelle said. "You wait here, and I'll
take the lady and go for help."

One of the horses was running free. Michelle caught its trailing reins and
walked it back. There was a sense of authority about her which made the horse
obey as she lifted me up across the pommel of the saddle and climbed up behind
me.

After a half hour's ride we came to the chateau. It was as I remembered it
from my childhood - an old castle with a central keep and two side-towers
behind a wall and enclosed courtyard. Michelle rode into the courtyard and
dismounted.

All the servants recognised Michelle at once, and they all deferred to her.
She shouted some hurried orders, and workers, maids and serving men scurried
to fulfil her instructions. A group of men mounted up and rode off toward the
stranded carriage. Others ran to clear away clutter from the courtyard, open
the chateau gates and prepare for our entry.

As if to demonstrate her mastery, Michelle turned, picked me up in her arms
like a child, and carried me across the courtyard, through the entrance doors,
and into the castle.

"I think I can walk," I said, but Michelle ignored me. her strong arms seemed
capable of supporting me for ever. "Prepare the green bedroom," she ordered a
group of women servants. "Clean sheets. Fresh candles. A fire. Then I want a
meal for four persons in the upper hall." Turning to a group of footmen she
commanded; "All the boxes are to be brought from the carriage as soon as its
brought in, and taken straight to the top gallery. Stable the horses, secure
the gates and admit no one else tonight. Once you've finished, no-one is to go
to any of the upper floors unless I summon them. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mademoiselle," they nodded.

"I want to be sure. Repeat your orders." They did so.

As they departed, Michelle turned and carried me up the long flight of stairs
to the main floor. She was certainly fit. There were fifty stairs in the long
staircase, and she carried me up without pausing or having to draw a deep
breath. Passing through a curtain into the upper hall, I noticed two servants
hurriedly finish lighting a fire and then withdraw.

"How is it that you give all the orders here?" I asked as Michelle continued
to hold me in her arms.

"The Duke left me in charge," she said. "The servants and laborers all answer
to me."

"When will the Duke return?"

"He is rarely here. He put me in charge here three months ago in order to
prepare for your arrival." She set me down on my feet. "But now, my lady,
things are going to be different here to the way you may have expected. All
orders to do with the running of the house and the estates will be given by
me. You will occupy the rooms on this floor, but you will only leave them with
my permission. You will obey all my instructions. You will not receive
visitors, and you will not leave the grounds of the chateau at all."

"But I am the lady. This is my father's chateau..."

"At the moment it is your uncle's chateau, and he left me in control. Since
you have been rebellious I am not allowing you any priveleges. If you continue
to show ill-discipline, I shall be forced to punish you. You've already seen
something of what I can do, and I have many measures at my disposal. Now you
will wait here quietly until your baggage arrives. Do you understand?"

"What about Madame Wittier?" I asked.

"She will not be joining you," said Michelle. "I'm putting her in one of the
cells in the tower until I decide what to do with her."

"You can't do that!" I objected.

"You'll soon find that there is very little I can't do," Michelle turned away.

I watched her leave, realizing that she already ruled my father's chateau with
complete authority, and that she seemed to have the power to do exactly as she
pleased.

I feared that it was going to be very difficult to alter that.