Collection 1

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Collection 1 Page 7

by Therese A. Kramer


  “Now, what’s the problem?” she hissed.

  “Are ye crazy, that’s a wolf!” Albert pointed an accusing finger at the animal.

  She tried not to take offense of his insult. “So, what’s your point?”

  “Stand aside,” he ordered. Suddenly, his men came crashing through the bushes, stopping short.

  Well, the Calvary has arrived!

  “What’s wrong with you people?” she cried. It was then she noticed the dirk in the prince’s fist. Gasping, she stood in front of the injured animal. “He’s harmless. See.” And she patted the head. Her chin high, she ordered as if she was in command, “Tell your men to stand back and put away your weapon. You’re frightening the poor thing.” But of course at that same moment, the wolf stood and growled, showing its razor sharp fangs. She knelt and shushed him. “Quiet boy, your timing is all wrong.” He licked her face and she giggled. “That’s better,” she praised. “Don’t worry I’ll not let the bad prince harm you.” This time the prince growled, looking more dangerous than the wolf.

  “Come hither,” he ordered, and pointed to the ground as if she were a naughty child, all the time he kept an eye on the wolf. She knew the prince was not convinced it was harmless. Reluctantly, she did as he asked, and the animal limped behind her. Zoë was quickly shoved behind him and six arrows were quickly pointed at the wolf.

  “Oh, please don’t hurt him. Besides, seven to one is not fair odds and I don’t eat dog meat.”

  Levity, at a time like this? scolded Snowy.

  Sorry, it’s just that Albert is making a mountain out of a mole hill.

  “Look, my prince,” she tried again to reason with him. “He will not---”

  “Be quiet,” Albert insisted. “I have nay intentions of killing it. I’m just protecting ye.”

  Zoë almost laughed aloud at his remark. It was a little late for that, but she’d keep that notion to herself. Instead, she uttered, “See, he’s tame, can I keep him? Oh, Pleeease, my handsome prince,” she battered her lashes. But alas, she found that she was wasting her girlish flirtations on the stubborn man.”

  “Nay, let us go!”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the clearing. As an after thought she asked, “Where’s tonight’s supper?”

  He shrugged. “The wolf must have frightened the deer away.”

  She gave him a wide smile. “Ah, Bambi will live.”

  They rode home in silence. She didn’t care that he didn’t speak because she was enjoying her ride immensely leaning her head against his hard chest. Upon reaching the drawbridge, she looked back to see that the injured wolf had followed. Smart wolf, she mussed and hoped no one spotted the animal. When they reached the yard a servant screamed, making her wince. Maybe he wasn’t smart at all.

  Turning in the saddle, Albert spotted the canine and he could have sworn that it was smiling at him. Zoë jumped down and hugged the wolf, again pleading to keep him and she presented him with her saddest pout. He rolled his eyes, he was beaten.

  “Ye must care for it,” he grumbled.

  She nodded.

  “And keep him in yer chambers.”

  Another nod.

  “And away from the servants.”

  “A huh. I mean yes.” She hugged him and murmured, “Thank you.”

  Albert had to smile. He would give her the world just to see that happiness on her face and the gratefulness in her dark eyes.

  And Zoë didn’t miss his beautiful smile and to think it took a wolf to make him to finally use his face muscles.

  Chapter Sixteen

  That night in the darkness, as Zoë slept the wolf’s shape slowly changed in the candle light. The shadow on the stone wall took on a menacing figure that silently moved towards the bed.

  “Well, my pretty,” the voice cackled. “Yer kindness will soon be rewarded.”

  The queen rubbed her hands together in delightful anticipation, feeling so totally wicked. It was one of her finer qualities, she mused.

  “Soon, oh, very soon, I shall regain my status and be the fairest in all the land. The prince shant save ye this time.”

  The queen opened a vile which contained green liquid. Mist filled the air and drifted down to Zoë’s face and was sucked in by each breath that was taken by the sleeping woman. She rubbed her talon fingers together in anticipation of what she had planned.

  She felt so wicked, and it felt so good.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Zoë woke with a splitting headache. A pain like she had never experienced before attacked her brain, causing her to shut her eyelids immediately. Besides the pain in her skull, her stomach was nauseous, and she felt hot all over. If she didn’t know better she would have thought that she had been poisoned. As far as she could recall, she and the prince had dined on the same foods last night. He had drunk ale and she had cider, but if it had been laced with anything, she figured that she wouldn’t still be alive by morning. But then, she could be wrong, what did she know of poisons in this century, or her own.

  “Bah!” She tried to spit out the vile taste in her mouth, but her throat was very parched. Opening her eyes, she rubbed them and blinked. What the hell? Where am I? Zoë was definitely not in her room. It was cold, damp, and dimly lit. A cave? How? Stupefied, she tried to call out but only a squeak came forth. God, I have lost my voice!

  Just when Zoë thought that things couldn’t get any worse, Murphy’s Law prevailed. She felt awful and very strange. Something was very wrong

  You think? She moaned at her own thought. Snowy, are you in there? No answer and she was frightened more than before, feeling completely alone. You picked a fine time to leave me, Lucile, as Kenny Rogers would have said. Jee’zes, this is no time to be a comedian. Wake up, this is only another nightmare.

  In her heart, Zoë knew that this was not a dream and a foreboding chill accosted her. She tried to stand but found that she couldn’t straighten up and she believed that she was on her hands and knees. Looking down, she gasped discovering that instead of hands, she was staring dumbly at paws; gray, furry paws, to be exact. She was definitely going to up-chuck.

  “Well, ye have finally awaken, my dear.”

  Zoë blinked and then looked up to see an old, angry hag staring down at her. The strange hag appeared to tower over her and when she tried to speak again, once more a tiny squeak was all she could make.

  “Hmmm,” the hag tapped her chin with her claw-like fingers and chanted some mumble-jumbled words. A swirling mist surrounded her hunched body and in minutes, the mist evaporated and there stood a beautiful lady.

  Zoë blinked with unbelieving eyes.

  “Squeak!”

  Picked up by her tail and placed on a large boulder, Zoë finally put it all together. A tail, furry paws and the squeak; she was a mouse. A freaking little mouse. Now, she had surely died and Satan had to be a woman. This woman!

  “So ye have beaten me twice, and though I can let my cat dine on ye, I need answers.”

  “You need explanations! What about me? she wanted to scream. But before she could utter another squeak, she was seized and forced to drink some God, awful, putrid liquid. The cave spun and pain racked her body. She screamed in agony as if her flesh was being burned off her bones. Twisting in torment, she prayed to die but it was not to be and she wondered how she could survive the stabbing pain in every muscle in her body. Gratefully, she passed out.

  Zoë had no idea how long she lay on the cold, cave floor when she was slapped into consciousness. “Son-of-a-bitch!” she wailed. “I’m in enough pain, leave me be!” The sound of her own voice forced her to snap open her eyes, and ignoring the pain throughout her body, she looked at her hands and feet. Thankfully, they were back and she closed her eyes again. Maybe, when she re-opened them, she’d be back in her bed.

  No such luck, it was not to be.

  “Well, Snowy, ye are yerself once more.”

  Zoë moaned at the high pitched voice. Opening her eyes, she croaked, “Who are you? No,
don’t tell me. You’re a witch, a freaking, and sadist witch!”

  Take care Zoë before she does something worse to ye.”

  Worse? Where the hell were you before, Snowy? Kinda late on your warning, don’t’cha think?

  The queen snarled, “Are ye nae happy to see me?”

  Is she kidding? “Should I be?” Zoë snapped back.

  Evil laughter filled the cave. “Come now, child, no hug for yer mother?”

  “Mother? Are you joking?”

  “I do nae joke.” She waved her hand. “Ye act as if ye do nae know yer own mother, the Queen!”

  Zoë swallowed, she needed water because she felt as if she had swallowed a prickly pear. She rasped, “Queen of hell, you mean.” Thank goodness looks cannot kill, she thought.

  “Silence! I will nae have disrespect!”

  “Ha! Well the jokes on you, Queeny,” she laughed, knowing full well that this wasn’t a laughing matter. “I’m not who you think I am.” As her head slowly cleared Zoë had a suspicion she knew exactly who this woman was. She was no other than the wicked queen who gave Snow White the poison apple.

  “Look, Queeny, I’m not Snowy, I am Zoë. Now, I know that I look like her, the reason for your mistake, but….” Her thoughts suddenly took a complete left turn. “Hey, how did you get into my room?”

  “Ye tended to my wound, my pretty,” she cackled.

  Ah, I should have known, no good deed goes unpunished.

  All these cliché’s are annoying, snapped Snowy.

  Sheesh, quiet! I have bigger problems to contend with. Now the prince is going to have a field day when he discovers what a dope I had been.

  Ye had no way of knowing, said Snowy, and I should have suspected it was mother. She is a nasty person. Sorry.

  Apology accepted, answered Zoë. At least we agree on something, but nasty is putting it mildly.

  “Okay.. so what now?” Zoë came right to the point, uncertain if she really wanted to know the answer.

  “The next time I will make sure that ye die for certain!” the witch said petulantly.

  Although there was nothing to be amused about, Zoë laughed again; but still in pain, she suffered for her mirth. “Well, Queeny, I’ll welcome it.” She didn’t miss the evil look in the wicked black eyes of the other woman before she vanished in a puff of smoke.

  Now, why didn’t that surprise her? “Sure, do your wicked deed and then disappear you coward! Come back and fight me like a human being!” Her voice echoed throughout the cold cave.

  Be careful for what ye wish for, warned her conscience. Ye can still wind up as cat-nip.

  Zoë snorted at the very idea and stretched. Again she examined herself to make sure she still had her limbs, and decided that sleep would be her best solution to her problem. This was something she’d worry about later, when she felt better, if that were possible. Her stomach was still queasy, but she did not vomit. She would take a nap and then find her way back home.

  “Yeah right,” she said aloud. “Remember, you were no girl scout.” Closing her eyes Zoë thought she heard her conscience warm her of the giant menacing shadow near-by. But she was too drowsy to comprehend.

  Albert knocked three times on Zoë’s chamber door. No answer. Annoyed, he tried the latch and discovered it was unlocked. He peeked in and called out her name. Again no answer so his body entered and he gazed about and frowned. Where the devil was she? he wondered. Further into the room, he noticed that her bed had been slept in, but when he felt the mattress, it was cool to the touch. Strange.

  At first he wasn’t overly concerned and assumed that she might possibly be around the castle somewhere talking to a serving wench. But after questioning many of the help, he began to panic; no one had seen the princess that morning-tide. That infor-mation made the hairs on his neck rise. Had she run away? Or was Garfield occupying her time? He would not put it past his uncle, seeing the way the man looked at her. That concept frightened him more than the idea that she had run away. If Garfield laid a hand on her, uncle or not, that man would rue the day!

  Albert pounded on Garfield’s door and did not even wait to be invited in. It was semi-dark and the prince could make out a large, covered lump in the middle of the bed. Giggles were coming from under the blanket. Without thinking straight, he yanked off the cover making the young scullery maid scream in terror and cover her bare breasts.

  His mouth unhinged and his uncle roared, “What in the devil’s name are ye doing?!

  Feeling himself blush for jumping to the wrong conclusion, he made a humble apology. “Sorry, uncle,” he mumbled and backed away a few steps before he made a quick turn-about and ran out of the room. God’s breath, he has not had a logical thought in his head since he met that woman. Jealousy was a new emotion to him and he did not like it one bit! He tried to calm down but his gut was in a knot. Where in hell was she?

  The princess had been acting strange lately, stranger than usual, he thought. Sometimes he believed that she was two people. One day she would accept his romantic advances and the next she’d be cool towards him; very shy. He did not know how to approach her anymore.

  William appeared by his side. “Sir, ye’re wearing down the rushes.”

  “Where can she be?” asked Albert.

  William shrugged. “I know nae, my prince but as I have said ere, she’s nae the one for ye.”

  Albert sighed. “Please, nay lectures. I love her, but I can nae understand her.”

  “Ye may never understand the weaker sex, milord, do nae try to.”

  Albert pulled a red cord and a moment later a woman servant curtsied, “Aye, milord.”

  “Sadie, have King saddled for me whilst I prepare for my search for the princess.”

  She nodded, “Aye.” Sadie turned to do her master’s bidding but then she did an about face. “May I have a word with ye, milord?”

  “’Tis important? I have nae time for---”

  “Oh, aye.” She twisted her apron. “Please do nae punish an old servant for forgetting something I should have mentioned before. This morn when ye had questioned me on the matter of the whereabouts of the princess, I had forgotten about this unfamiliar face amongst us.”

  He forked his brow. “And,” he prompted her.

  Sadie fidgeted. “Well, um…” she rubbed her palms down the sides of her drab dress. “Ye were, well….”

  Albert let out a frustrated breath. “Aye, come out with it, madam!”

  She paled and gulped. “This morn when Greta and me went out to pick herbs, this old hunchback crone hobbled behind us and out of the castle. I had nae noticed her at first until we were over the moat. I asked Greta if she knew the old woman or seen her around before, but Greta said nay.”

  “Can ye describe her?” Albert rubbed the back of his neck feeling tighter than an asp’s butt.

  Sadie rubbed her temple in thought. “I cannae rightly say. Her face was mostly covered by a hooded cape. When I turned to inquire who she might be, she fled.” Her eyes grew wide at her sudden thought “By God, she ran very fast milord, for an old hag.”

  “In which direction?” he asked.

  “West, towards the mountains,” she pointed with a shaky finger.

  Without so much as a thank you or good-bye to Walter, Albert ran from the room. Out in the courtyard, men and women, who were lumbering about stared in puzzlement. Running into the stable, he yelled at the boy, “Saddle my horse and be quick about it!”

  Ralf jump to attention and asked, “Aye, do ye want yer armor?”

  “Nay, just my sword,” he replied hastily.

  King was ready to ride in minutes and Albert jump onto his horse, galloping towards the mountains. He believed that his princess had disguised herself as an old lady and escaped. Her trickery might have been brilliant, but she was no match for him. As Albert raced towards the mountains he vowed to lock Zoë in her chambers until the nuptials. That maiden would be the death of him yet!

  Prince Albert’s men-in-arms scurried to c
atch up with their prince. The captain, Bartram wondered what had driven the man to race out without them. It was bad enough that he had traveled the countryside looking for his true love alone; now he flees without the protection of his mantle or armor. Satan’s blood! The prince had no care for his own skin.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Zoë stretched and yawned. Except for being overly thirsty, she felt much better. Groggily, she looked around and noticed that for some strange reason, her abductor left a low burning candle. Shrugging at her good fortune, she rose a bit creaky and took the candle. With the overwhelming need to quench her thirst, she was more intent on finding water just then, and wasn’t very concerned about looking for a way out. She knew some caves had small pools inside so she decided to scout the territory. The deeper and deeper she walked, the colder and thinner the air became. Her thinly made nightgown was not much protection and soon Zoë was shivering uncontrollably. Her teeth chattering, she had that eerie feeling again, that she was being watched. Nervously, she turned and thought she had seen a shadow on the wet stone wall.

  Shaking her head, she tried to calm her nerves scolding herself that the place was creepy enough without her mind conjuring up things that go bump in the night. Few more steps and a blast of hot air hit full force on her back. Fear immobilized her instantly and again she chided herself blaming her over active imagination. Foolishly, she ignored her instincts and took another, and another step and another, all the while she fought to control her knocking knees. Another blast and the cave filled with smoke making her cough. This time she knew that it was not her imagination.

  Cringing, she mumbled, “What the hell?” Someone’s hot breath was on her neck and she voiced her thoughts. “If that damn bitch came back, well, I’m not going to put up with anymore crap!” Her railing bounced off the cave walls. “Okay, I’ve had enough!” Zoë snarled and turned. Her mouth dropped and a scream lodged in her throat. Dear Lord, it cannot be real. Right now, she would’ve welcomed the wicked queen with open arms.

 

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