The Zombie Plague

Chapter The First

"Gwen, put that back!" reprimands Amara, my best friend and fellow maid. "You shouldn't steal to begin with, but stealing from a guest at the castle?"

I roll my eyes, slipping the ornate gold brooch into the pocket of my maids uniform, then turn back to Amara to grab a few of the soiled sheets she is carrying.

"Relax. It's just one little brooch; he'll never catch me if he ever realizes it's gone."

The man who I'm stealing from, the Ambassador of Portugal, Lord Santos, is far too lazy to move his drunken arse in order to count his myriad of valuable trinkets.

Amara opens her mouth to say something, but I quickly interrupt, saying " And you know that I need to steal to send the extra money back to my family."

Amara sighs, showing her obvious disdain at my actions, then continues to pad lightly down the servant's stairs to the laundry. I consolidate my load of dirty linens into a tight ball, then follow her down the stairs. I skip the last step and jump onto the cold stone floor of the landing, peering through a small gap into the Great Hall. There are people walking briskly about, their jewel tones dresses and suits flashing against the drab stone. In a small corner, one of the lady's maids, Margaret, is attempting to seduce an uncomfortable looking noble who is standing with his back pressed up to a stain glass window.

Amidst all of the bustle of royal life, a small group of people stand out. They aren't moving very quickly, and look deathly pale, with dark circles surrounding their eyes. They stumble around like drunks, crashing violently into other people who look at them with disgust.

I wonder what party they got drunk at.

I continue to observe the scene for a moment more, then I swivel my head slightly to the left, and see a young man staring straight at me. We make eye contact for a single second, but to me it feels like an eternity. I blink once, and then the contact between us is broken, with the mysterious man turning to converse with the person standing next to him.

I feel somewhat guilty, like I have done something wrong, even though he probably was just looking at the painting on the wall just above the "peephole".

"Gwen!" Amara's voice echoes through the stone corridor, awakening me from my reverie.

"I'm coming," I call down to her. I jog down the stairs, then turn to my right where a whitewashed door is partially opened. I step in, then dump the white cloth into a washbasin and speed walk towards the maids quarters.

Amara is already sitting in our shared room on the narrow cot, her fingers working busily at a minuscule piece of embroidery. I close the door quietly, greet Amara with a quick 'hello', then proceed to change out of my starched maid uniform and into a nondescript tunic and comfortable boots. I untwist my coffee colored hair out of its severe knot, letting it tumble across my shoulders in loose curls, then cross the minuscule room in two strides to splash my face with icy water from the rusted basin.

"There was a strange group of people in the Great Hall," I remark, trying to make conversation in the awkward silence. Whenever Amara catches me in the act of thieving, she is disappointed and moody for a little while. "They were very sickly looking, and stumbling around like they were drunk."

I see Amara's shoulders tense, then she turns towards me and says," That's strange. I can't think of any parties or festivals they would have gotten drunk at." She frowns, her dark eyebrows furrowing, then shrugs. "I guess we'll never know. And you should hope that no one saw you; that brooch you stole is showing."

I look down quickly, then grasp the small, very visible brooch in one hand and hide it behind my back. I look sheepishly at Amara, my cheeks flushing. "Sorry. I didn't notice it."