Zoo

by Tara Elizabeth

My captors usher me forward into the largest stone building at the back of the courtyard. There are stone stairs as soon as we enter, winding up and down. To the left is a large room as well as to the right. We pass by too fast for me to really get an idea of what they are used for. We go up one floor. The pounding of our feet echoes off the walls and fills the air, like drummers drumming for a prisoner before he’s executed. And again, I feel like I’m marching toward my death—or at least the death of my soul.

  Oversized wooden doors line a short hallway. We head toward one on the right. It creaks as James pushes it open. Inside the small room, I see a chair, a bathtub, linens, one massive window, three burning candles, and two women waiting for us.

  James grabs my wrist and pulls me in beside him. I jerk my arm away from him as soon as I’m standing beside him. I never want him near me again, and I hate him so much that I want to peel the flesh off of my arm where he touched it.

  He looks down at me as if I’m a child. “Now these women are here to clean you up so you don’t repulse the King. You will meet him tonight and wed him in two days. You had better be on yer best behavior, or I will make you pay. I’ll go back and do something nasty to your friend Victoria,” he threatens.

  After yanking the gag from my mouth, he storms away and slams the door behind him. The boom it produces echoes through the room.

  I turn and look between the two women, who are looking at me expectantly. They are waiting for me to get naked and hop in the tub. “Look, the only way this is going to happen is if you turn around,” I say to them.

  THE KING

  I am so pissed. Those women wouldn’t let me put my jeans and t-shirt back on, so now I’m sitting here at a banquet table wearing this ridiculous gown. I mean, who thinks this stupid thing looks good? Well, maybe it looks a little good, but I can barely move in it.

  I’m sweating up a storm and I can’t breathe. There are under skirts and who knows what else under there. The top is corseted and pulled as tight as they could get it. I think one of the women actually put their leg up on the side of the tub to get more leverage. But I guess my posture is pretty amazing right now, because it’s impossible to slouch.

  The dress is a deep teal on the bodice and the top skirt. There’s a split in the center of the skirt revealing a tufted underskirt that’s charcoal grey. Okay, so I’ll admit it. It is actually beautiful, but so what. I have to get out of here before Kale gets killed trying to rescue me, and before I have to bed down with a stranger.

  Maybe I can sweet-talk this King guy and fool everyone into thinking I want to be here. Then, I’ll slip out when I can. Piece of cake.

  Someone adjusts one of the braids in my hair before sitting next to me at the table. I move my head away when I realize that it’s James. “You look stunning,” he compliments me.

  I don’t respond. He’s trying to make me angry.

  It’s working.

  There are two ornate doors in this room. Each one has a male servant flanking it. The servant furthest from me reaches over and opens the door. He must have ESP or something, because the King walks through.

  He’s exactly what you’d expect some pompous, middle-aged king to look like. He’s wearing his finest, dark green robes with gold trim. He’s got a potbelly, pudgy round cheeks, and bushy red eyebrows. But the things that stand out most are his crooked nose and the jagged scar on his right jaw—battle wounds of a brutal king.

  James stands up beside me and nudges me to do the same. I comply and rise for the King of the super-zoo. He walks toward me and takes my hand, pulling me away my chair. He wants to inspect his prize. “Turn,” he commands me. His “R’s” sound weird.

  I spin slowly for him, the whole time wishing I could punch him in his fat gut. But I don’t. I even smile when I face him again.

  “Very nice. A little thin, but very beautiful. She will do just fine.” The more he speaks, the less I hear the English accent I was expecting. I’m pretty sure he’s Scottish. I look at him again and realize that he, in fact, isn’t some bloated man that was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He’s actually a burly warlord playing dress up at a dinner party for his new bride.

  This may not be as easy as I thought.

  ***

  For dinner we have some kind of roasted bird with little potatoes and green beans. I eat greedily, which seems to please the King. But when I get close to full, I feel guilty. I know Kale and Victoria will be scraping for a handful of anything. I remind myself that I will need the fuel when I get the opportunity to run very far from here.

  The King and James speak about James’ reward for providing me as a virgin bride. “Yes. Yes,” the King says. “You’ll get to keep your room here in the castle so long as you continue to earn your keep. You’re to tend to the five horses that the castle has procured. You’ll feed them, water them, and exercise them. And you’ll do whatever else I tell you to.”

  James seems pleased with this deal. “Yes, King. I’ll start tomorrow.”

  The King isn’t finished yet. He has a warning for James. “Now, James, should this girl not be a virgin upon our wedding night, I’ll have your head on a spike. Understand?”

  James nods, his fear evident on his handsome face. I watch him swallow hard. Seeing him so scared makes me smile.

  “Why do you find that funny, girl? Are you not a virgin as James has promised?” The King is beyond angry as he questions me.

  “Oh, no sir. No. I mean I am a virgin, but I smiled because I like the idea of James’ head on a spike.” My face is engulfed in flames. I want to crawl under the table. I want to beg him, please don’t kill me yet.

  This seems to satisfy the King for now. “Well, we shall see won’t we?” he says.

  Gross! Gross! Gross!

  Just as the conversation and accusations die, a male servant I haven’t seen before enters the room. He whispers into James’ ear. James jumps up from his seat and bows before the King. “Please excuse me, my King. I have some urgent business to take care of.”

  The King waves him away, as if he couldn’t care less about James’ presence at all. This leaves us alone with the two servants that stand by the doors, pretending not to listen to us.

  “Well, my dear. Where are my manners? The young man failed to tell me your name.”

  “Emma.”

  “Hmm. Emma. I like that. Well, Emma, once we are married you may call me Angus, but for now you will refer to me as my Lord or my King,” he informs me.

  “Yes, my King,” I answer. I’ll call him whatever he wants, so long as he doesn’t put my head on a spike.

  He smiles broadly. “Very good. Now, Cat,” he calls over to one of the servants. “Cat, take the lady to her room for the night, and bring her back here in the morning for breakfast.”

  The aged man named Cat, bows to his King and gestures with an open arm for me to follow him. We climb the staircase to the second floor where I had a bath earlier. He opens a door for me directly across from the bathing room. Inside is a large, four-poster bed with a heavy, plaid material curtained along the top. The blanket matches, as well as the curtains that hang over what I discover to be a fake window with a mural of the valley. The only light in the room comes from the many candles spaced along the walls. They’re sitting atop iron sconces.

  “Good evening, M’Lady,” Cat says as he pulls the door shut behind him.

  Since there is no real window in this room, there’s no way out except the door into the hallway. I try the handle, but of course it’s locked. Well, I guess I’ll get a good night’s sleep so I can try to bust out of here tomorrow. But before I rest, I decide to go over the room more thoroughly, just in case there’s a secret door or something. They have those in castles, right?

  I squeeze under the bed and feel around. Nothing. I hike my dress up so that I can crawl and scoot across the stone floor. Nothing. I run my finger along the four stonewalls that surround me. Nothing. The fake window proves to be just a fake window—nothing more. I even shove the bed
away from the wall. There is nothing behind it.

  Enough. I’ve been over every inch of this room. The more difficult task turns out to be taking off my agonizing dress. It’s actually impossible to do by myself, so I have to beat on the door until someone answers my call.

  Someone turns a key in the door, and pushes it open a bit. Cat is standing in the hallway. “How may I help you, M’Lady?” he asks.

  “I can’t get out of this dress. Can you help me or send someone to help me? Please,” I request.

  “Right away, M’Lady. Just one moment while I fetch one of your lady’s maids.” He relocks the door, and I can hear him shuffling down the hall in search of help.

  One of the women from earlier enters my room. She patiently unties and loosens my corset enough for me to squeeze out the torture device of a dress. She gathers it up in her arms and says, “I’ll have another dress for you in the morning, M’Lady.” Then she bows and leaves me in granny undergarments. They’re pretty similar to what Victoria has under her dress; cotton pants and an undershirt. I kind of feel like a pirate—one without the floppy hat and sketchy bird perched on the shoulder.

  I leave the candles burning in case I need their light during the night. I climb into the higher than average bed and wish for the night to be over, so I can find an opportunity to escape back to Kale and Victoria. I miss them.

  ***

  In what I suppose is the early morning, a middle-aged woman, with her head covered in beige fabric, bursts through the door to my bedroom. Light floods in behind her, so I’m able to notice that all the candles have burned out and that the woman is carrying a soft pink gown with silver embellishments. She tosses the dress on the foot of the bed and says, “Good morning, M’Lady. The King is expecting you to join him for breakfast in ten minutes. Come now, let’s get dressed.”

  “I have to pee,” I blurt out. It was so very unladylike of me, but whatever. I throw back the covers and roll up into a sitting position, clutching my abdomen so she’ll believe me.

  “But you have a chamber pot, just there.” She points under my bed.

  “I am not using that thing. Please bring me to a bathroom.” I used something that resembled a toilet in the bathing room yesterday. Well, not really a toilet per say, but it was better than a glass pot.

  Reluctantly, she agrees. “Yes, yes. Right this way. Across the hall. Come, come.” She’s trying to hurry me along in fear that I’ll arrive late for my breakfast with the King and she’ll be the one to answer for it.

  I follow her to the door of my room. She opens it wide and scurries across the empty hall to the room where I took a bath. Instead of following her in, I spring down the hallway. My bare feet slap the cold, gray stones that cover the floor. “No, M’Lady! Come back!” my lady’s maid calls after me.

  I fly down stairs toward the ground level, taking them two at a time. Unfortunately, the King, James, and the man named Cat are at the bottom of the landing. I turn to run back up, but James grabs a hold of my cotton pirate pants. My feet fly off the ground. Suddenly, my ass is in the air, and I’m clutching to one of the stone steps with my hands, trying to pull myself down. But the stone is too smooth and my hands slip away.

  “Trying to run away, my dear?” the King asks me. Then he orders James to put me down.

  When James drops me, my shins hit the edge of a step. Pain shoots through my legs, causing me to slump down to the next step. I keep my head down so they won’t see my tear filled eyes and have the satisfaction of causing me pain.

  The King grabs a handful of my hair and jerks my head back so that I’m looking into his cruel, green eyes. “I don’t blame you for trying, but do it again and I won’t be so forgiving,” he warns. He shoves my head forward and releases his hold on my hair. “Now get dressed and return to me with a smile on that pretty face of yours.”

  I slowly start to rise, but stumble when my injured legs give out. It hurts so bad that I’m actually nauseous. Sweat forms on my brow. This is much worse than when I scraped my butt sliding down the cliff.

  My inability to get moving apparently angers the King. He yells, “I said NOW!” Through my tears and pain, I pull myself up and lean against the wall for support as I climb back up the stairwell. “Make sure she listens this time,” he tells someone.

  I can hear his cowboy boots as he ascends the steps behind me. I have to say something to James. I can’t help myself. “I hate you.” Very original, I know, but it’s better than nothing.

  He chuckles. “You’re going to hate me even more when you find out what I have in store for your boyfriend.”

  My stomach drops. “What are you talking about?” We’ve reached the hallway upstairs. The servant woman is waiting for me by the bathroom. She looks frazzled. I turn to face James before I reach her. I wait for him to answer.

  He smiles and casually leans against the wall. No matter how physically handsome he is, he couldn’t be more ugly to me than at this moment. Because at this moment, he reveals, “Some of the guards caught your Mexican friend last night. He was wandering around the castle. He didn’t even bother to bring a weapon.” He chuckles. “I’ve got him locked up in the dungeon. We’re going to stick him in the guillotine as a gift for the King on your wedding day.”

  All I see is red. I fly forward, nails seeking his perfect face. One of them makes contact, and I tear at his flesh as he struggles against me. James slams me against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway.

  All the while, my lady’s maid is screaming somewhere to the side of us. “Don’t hurt her face! The King won’t want her. Stop it!” She swats at James’ back.

  James doesn’t pay her any attention. He’s solely focused on me. He has my hands pinned to my sides, so I lash out with my legs. I make contact, but I don’t hurt him. I’m only aggravating him. He slides his hands up my arms and takes hold of my biceps. He slams me against the hard wall—again and again—until I fall unconscious.

  HEADACHE

  I feel like I might puke, once again. I really hope I do—right on the table in front of the King. When I woke up from being knocked unconscious, I was already dressed in the fluffy, pink gown that I’d seen earlier. Someone had even braided my hair in what felt like a crown wrapping around my head.

  After I was able to walk without falling over, they finally allowed me to use the restroom before heading to breakfast. However, the female servant had to accompany me into the room and James stood, facing away, in the open doorway. I really screwed up. Now I’m going to be watched like a hawk. How am I ever going to get to Kale and get us out of here?

  I smile at the King as egg yolk dribbles down his red beard. He doesn’t notice it, or if he does, he doesn’t care. I find myself scratching my chin, as I will him to clean himself up.

  “My bride must have manners. Stop that fidgeting,” the King demands, as he sprays more yellow slime onto his chin.

  I drop my hands into my lap and sit quietly.

  The King looks at me with mischievous eyes. “Our James here has informed me of what his wedding gift to us will be. Has he told you?” He’s very amused. His jolly laugh echoes through the cavernous space like thunder trapped in a glass bottle. He adds, “I suppose he has by that mark on his face, yes?”

  “Yes, my Lord.” I respond, but barely.

  “It will certainly be good entertainment.” He glances at me to see my reaction. “Now, now. Don’t look so upset. You’ll be happy here. You’ll see. You will never be without food or protection. Everything I have will be yours. This is my kingdom.”

  “That’s not what I heard.” Oops. I probably shouldn’t have said that out loud.

  The King thrusts his heavy, ornately carved chair out from under him as he rises to his feet. He slams his fist down on the table and shouts, “And what did you hear?”

  “I heard that all the real tough guys are on the other side of the mountains.”

  “They’re over there because I put them there! You will come to find that I will tolerate a
lot of things, but I will never have a woman speak to me like that. Never! The next time you do, I’ll feed you to the pigs like we’re going to do to your friend after we chop off his head.” He storms out of the room nearly knocking over poor, old Cat.

  I laugh. A lot. Not at Cat’s misfortune, but at my ability to piss off the King. Though it may not have been the best idea—since I was planning on gaining his trust to weasel my way out of here—I just couldn’t help myself.

  I think I pissed James off as well, because he slaps me across the face before he leaves the room. It brings tears to my eyes, but I force myself to smile in spite of him. He storms away from me.

  Cat and I are alone now in the banquet room. He totters over to me as I stare at my uneaten plate of breakfast foods. “Are you okay, M’Lady?” he asks me. His face is grief stricken. “Can I get you something for your face?”

  I move my hand to my cheek. It’s warm to the touch, but fortunately, it was only a slap. I’ll be okay soon enough. “No. But thank you,” I say to the kind servant.

  “I need to escort you back to your room now.” He bows his head and backs up, waiting for me to stand and follow him.

  We enter the hallway, which is flanked by two guards with swords. They watch us as we approach the stairs. They watch every single step I make, ready to pounce on me if I so much as look like I might run. I obey the rules and follow along. It takes Cat an eternity to climb the stone stairs, which is okay with me since my shins still hurt. They have a perfectly straight, purple line across each of them.

  Deciding to make small talk, I ask him, “How did you get a name like Cat?”

  “That is a good question, M’Lady.” He draws in a deep breath as he pulls himself up to the next step. “The King named me when I became his servant. He said that any man that tries to kill himself so many times and keeps coming back to life must be good luck. He named me Cat and kept me close to him. I don’t think I’m good luck though. Those Keepers just want to punish me.”