I thought I'd just give you all a little background on what's going on in this chapter. The French Revolution of 1832 was not the revolution where Louis XVI was killed, this was 30 years are that. Basically another king was on the throne and the republicans (Alice and the revolutionaries) aren't happy with it. People were dying from cholera (about 18,000 had died at the time) and the cost of living was so high that people were starving. When General Lamarque died (a supporter of the lower classes) the republicans used it to stage their fight. They were defeated by the French soldiers who hugely outnumbered them and all survivors were executed.

If anyone has seen Les Miserables, the scene where Marius and Enjolras climb atop the carriage and wave the red flags while singing 'Do You Hear The People Sing?' is where I got the inspiration from. That scene is set at General Lamarque's funeral.

Hope you like it :)

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Prologue

Paris

June, 1832

Alice could hear her heart beat faster as she ran. She could feel her blood pumping and her breathing increasing. She could feel each individual sweat bead on her forehead. She could feel death closing in, ready to take another victim.

"Hurry, Jacques," she hissed at her elder brother in a hushed tone. She knew the French soldiers would be upon them soon if they were not quick and silent.

Alice Devereaux knew fighting at the barricades was a bad idea. She knew it would only end in bloodshed. She believed in the cause most heartily but France was not ready for what the revolutionaries wished for. Those in power did not concern themselves with the needs of the people of France. People were dying and starving and nothing was being done.

But once there she could no longer deny her part in it. A pistol was thrust into her hands and before she knew it, she had fired it. Her fifteen year old self was naïve. She was naïve to think that firing a pistol would not hurt anyone. She'd hit a soldier in the arm, and the fright of it all had made her drop the weapon instantly. She didn't know what to do. Men were falling all around her. Blood was spilling as their barricade was destroyed. The soldiers had won and the survivors were being shot.

She found Jacques unconscious behind the body of their friend, Luc. She thanked God he was still breathing. He'd been caught in the debris of a cannon fire. She dragged him away from the battle until he regained consciousness, and together they climbed buildings and scaled walls until they reached the French harbour. They knew France was not safe anymore, no matter how much they wished they could stay.

Docked on the harbour was a trade ship bound for England. As day broke they watched as all sorts of goods were being loaded. They both knew they had to climb aboard somehow.

It would be near impossible though. Soldiers swarmed the area making sure revolutionaries like themselves didn't escape.

"This is cowardly, Alice," Jacques whispered in her ear as they hid behind a pile of wooden crates. She had no idea what was in them, but she was sure that if they got inside they would be packed onto the ship. "We should be back at the barricades."

"And what?" Alice snapped, turning around to glare at her brother. His sharp, blue eyes that so mirrored her own were stern. "Die? Be left to rot? We go back, we die, Jacques."

"I'd rather die a hero than live a coward, Alice," Jacques said under his breath.

Alice ignored his comment. It wasn't the time to fight, not yet anyway. She didn't know when her people, the lower classes, would be free to live the lives they wanted, but if it had to end in what could only be called genocide, then she would have no part in it.

The siblings hid behind wooden crates that would eventually be loaded onto trade ships bound for different corners of the earth. The ship they wanted had a wooden ramp that led down to the dock. It wouldn't be easy. It was as if the French soldiers were using the ship as bait for escaped rebels. The marched up and down the dock with their muskets leaning against their shoulders. She wondered if any of the soldiers there were responsible for the deaths of her friends back at their barricade.

The soldiers outnumbered them in their thousands. And they fought for the monarchy, something that they had fought once more to overthrow in 1830. But still, they replaced one king with another. The republicans were tired of being controlled by a dictatorial monarchy, the kind that allowed their people to die from starvation and sickness. The only sympathiser to their classes was General Lamarque, and even he succumbed to the sickness. That was the catalyst, according to Jacques and his friends, the leaders of their rebel branch.

Although eighteen year old Jacques was an extreme supporter of the republican fight, he was very protective of Alice. At fifteen, she was young and strong, yet as a woman, she was not meant to be at the barricade. Jacques believed they were destined for victory, and wanted his sister with him when they won. Unfortunately, he was wrong.

"If I had my pistol I'd shoot until I had no powder left," Jacques growled.

"If you did that then we would be caught and killed too. We need to get to England," Alice hissed at him, cautiously watching the marching soldiers. "I believe in our cause, Jacques, I just do not believe in the way we went about it. If you want to end up being a body dumped in the Seine then feel free to return to the barricades. We cannot serve if we are dead."

"We are all equal when dead, Alice. Death is the ultimate sacrifice," Jacques huffed impatiently. "How do we get on this ship undetected?" he asked exasperatedly. "Why England, Alice?" he growled. "We are trying to abolish the monarchy, not travel towards one."

Alice shot her brother a cold look. "France should look to England for guidance. There is democracy in England ... of course who resides in parliament is up to the aristocracy but there is still voting. They managed to do it without killing. I'm sure one day everyone will get the vote. It should sooner happen there than here."

"The aristocracy is the filth of the earth. They sit on their thrones, and piss in their golden chamber pots. They all belong to the guillotine if you ask me," he spat angrily. "Grandmere and Grandpere had it right when they fought for Louis' head, and maman and papa after them. We are carrying on tradition, Alice."

That, Alice knew, was genocide. Hearing the harrowing stories of the fights her ancestors fought gave her nightmares. The revolutionaries didn't just fight for Louis' head, they fought for the Queen's, and they fought for anyone who had a guinnea to their name - even children. Had she been alive then, she believed she would have done everything she could to save the innocent. Revolutions were meant to overthrow the guilty, and the revolution her parents and grandparents had fought in was not to fight the guilty.

"They are all dead, Jacques, as will we be if we do not get on this ship," Alice snapped. "We can fight for equality later. Once we are in England we'll have the opportunity to rally all the French survivors and find some other way to fight."

Her sudden raise in her voice alerted some of the French guard. Peering around the side of the crates, she saw the armed soldiers marching towards them with curious looks on their faces. Alice's heart beat faster. They would find them!

Jacques immediately launched into action. He crept around the other side of the crate and hissed for Alice to follow him. She came to where he was standing. He was pointing at words on the crate. They were written in English.

"What does this say?" he asked.

"Jacques, I don't speak English," Alice whispered. The looked at the letters on the crate and sounded them out in her head.

Contents: Parisian Silk.

Bound: London, England.

She didn't understand it, but the word she recognised was 'England'. "I know this word is 'England'," she whispered to her brother. "Help me open the crate, if we get inside we can hide until she crate is loaded."

Jacques nodded and used all his might to pull the crate open. The nails gave way and the crate opened to reveal at least a hundred bolts of beautiful silk for gowns. Alice could not have imagined ever owning a gown made of such fine, French silk. Alice had only ever owned Jacque's clothes that he'd outgrown. She'd never worn a dress in her life. She was momentarily dazed.

Jacques lifted Alice into the crate and whispered to her. "You believe in the cause, Alice?"

Alice nodded. "Of course," she breathed, looking out past him. She could hear the soldiers edging closer and closer to them. They began calling out and loading their guns. "Jacques, get in!" she panicked.

"Fight in my name, and those of our brother's that are lost. Be good and just. Use me as a distraction," he leant in and kissed her forehead. "Live for me, Alice. Live for maman and papa. Live for France!" he whispered. Before she could say or do anything, Jacques had fixed the crate closed.

Alice clapped her hands over her mouth as the soldiers yelled and drew their weapons. Shots were fired and she heard the sound of a body falling to the ground. Soundless screams escaped Alice's mouth. She scrambled to get to the other side of the crate so that she might see through the cracks in the wood. There he was, on the ground, lifeless.

Jacques was dead. His ultimate sacrifice was for her. She watched in horror as the soldier's grabbed hold of Jacques' legs and dragged him over to the edge of the Seine. With ease and without second thought, they tossed him in. She heard the splash of his body as it connected with the water.

"Stupid rebel," she heard one of the soldiers chuckle.

She had to live. She would not let him die in vain. She buried herself underneath the bolts of fabric and waited. She waited for a day and a night before she felt the crate being lifted and taken aboard the ship. And she wait another day before she heard the captain announce it was time to set sail.

Jacques had died so that she might live, and by God she would not disappoint him.

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I hope you liked it.

I just want to say thank you for all the support I've been getting during this hard time. It's really nice to know that so many of your care.

Laura xxxx