What should I do? Can I do something? It doesn't look good. The crowd is angry. The gobernor has fled abandoning his lover, Augusta, to her own fate. The blacksmith has cuffed her wrists on the small of her back, with another length of chain going up to an iron collar. Irrelevant, in any case. Even if her arms were free she would still be surrounded by an angry mob.

Does she deserve that? Was she an accomplice of the governor's excesses, shady dealings and violent outbursts, or just another victim? Did she enjoy being with him or was she afraid of the possible consequences of saying no?

A few buckets of dirty water have been thrown over her. A pair of bold hands have ripped open the neckline of her dress, revealing a breast and half of the other. More hands are tearing apart her gown.

A pair of men are piling up chunks of wood around a vertical pole stuck in the ground. A few of them are strocking their cocks with their hands. Three more are bringing tree branches and one of them is peeling off all the leaves and smaller branches with a knife, making switches, I guess. A woman begins to cut what remains of her dress with a pair of scissors. Another one is cutting her hair very short an uneven. A couple more of men are throwing a long rope over a tree, with a slipknot on its end. Each of the villagers seems to have a different plan. A couple of them, in fact, are fist fighting over who is going to rape her harder.

With her eyes closed and all the villagers making a fuss, talking and shouting at once she is not aware of what is about to happen. She is shaking slightly and a pair of shy tears are running down her cheeks, but other than that, she is keeping composure.

And myself? I'm just watching. Even if she deserved to be saved, of which I'm not sure, I can't do anything. I am no fighter. I'm just a poet and not very good. I just... I, eh... Ok, let's give it try.

-No, stop!- I run towards the mob trying my best to hide my nerves. Poet, yes. A good liar, maybe. Certainly not an actor.- Who do you think was revealing all the governor's secrets, fueling the rumors!- I make a short pause allowing the words to dig in their minds, but not too long, as a single witty, sceptic reply could ruin everything.- She's one of us!

As they start to discuss the validity of my exclamation, I get to Augusta, grab her arm and drag her with me to my house. I lead her to the backyard and make her step in the same basin I use to shower myself. Due to the rush I have no hot water, but she is so scared that she doesn't complain. Neither she does so when I remove the useless drags of her dress.

-Wh... Why?- She asks as soon as I come back from my bedroom, bringing a towel and one of my wife's dresses. Fortunately during all the turmoil she has been far from here, paying her sister a visit.

-I wasn't sure you deserved that.- I help her step out and drying off. She can't do much with those chains.- We'll go tomorrow to another blacksmith, just in case.

-But, what now? What are you going to do with me?

I guess it's a good question. She is mine for the time being. At least until the angry mob notices my lie. Which, by the way, might possibly be truth. I guess I could claim to be a victim of her manipulations. I'd just need to pretend to feel betrayed and join in the public derision. Not now, though. Right now she's just mine. My wife is not home. Augusta is chained and defenseless. Still pretty even with her long mane gone. I can do anything I want.