Battle of the Beasts

by Chris Columbus

  Felix, in the arena below, looked up at the emperor’s sitting area. Cordelia felt as if he were staring right at her. She gave a slight smile. She could have sworn he returned it.

  “Who is that?” Will asked, standing next to Cordelia.

  “Some gladiator named Felix.”

  “And why are you smiling at him?”

  “Um . . . did you see what he did? It was really cool . . . like a solo ballet with a sword.”

  “A rather girlish display, in my opinion,” Will said, and he didn’t have to say any more.

  Is Will jealous? Cordelia thought.

  “Bravo, Felix!” the emperor called. “Let the battles begin!”

  Rodicus grabbed the giant bronze tripod cone: “Your Supreme Emperor is ready for entertainment!”

  “Entertainment? So what was the rest of that stuff?” Brendan asked.

  Felix put his helmet on. The black gate rose underneath where the Walkers were sitting. This time, instead of lions, some animals came out that made Brendan’s jaw drop.

  The color was what startled him at first. The creatures were white. Brendan thought they were Siberian tigers, or giant snow leopards, because it didn’t make sense for polar bears to be in the Colosseum . . .

  But they were polar bears.

  Shuffling, angry, hot polar bears.

  Guards whipped at the bears as they lumbered forward. There were two; they moved toward Felix, who raised his sword. The gladiators formed a ring around the bears and their fellow fighter.

  “Oh man, I should have read more of Gladius Rex,” Brendan said. “I guess Kristoff went a little nuts with the exotic animals.”

  “What are they going to do with the bears?” Eleanor exclaimed. “That guy’s not going to fight bears, is he? They’re innocent!”

  “They’re hungry,” Brendan said.

  “Wait!” Eleanor ran up to the emperor and pulled on his robe. “You can’t do this! It’s cruelty to animals!”

  A shocked Rodicus grabbed her, but the emperor responded: “Cruelty? How ridiculous.” He pulled a string of meat from one of his back teeth. “What you call ‘cruelty’ is a natural part of the world. Have you ever seen a cat bounce a live mouse between its paws until the mouse dies? That’s not cruelty. That’s pure joy.”

  “And you’re pure gross!” Eleanor said. “A horrible, bloated—”

  Brendan put his hand over Eleanor’s mouth and gave the emperor a big, fake grin. “Your Supremeness, I got this.” He took Nell into a corner and whispered, “You ever hear that expression ‘when in Rome’? You’ve got to play along—”

  “Play along? Those two beautiful polar bears are about to be slaughtered! You used to care about stuff like that! What’s happened to you? You’re becoming as disturbed as Blob-ipus!”

  “I’m trying to keep us alive and I’ve done a good job so far. And if you want to stay safe I suggest you turn away from this battle. Then you won’t have to see what happens to the bears, or to that guy who’s fighting them. You know, the bears may win.”

  “I hope they do. I’ll be glad-they-ate-him!”

  Cordelia watched the bears approach Felix the Greek. The first one took a swipe at him. The crowd all gasped at once, as if the Colosseum were one big mouth. Felix ducked and slashed at the bear’s paw, but the animal drew away as the second bear charged him from behind. Felix jumped and the two bears tumbled into each other! They rolled and battled on the ground. The spectators laughed.

  Eleanor yelled to the crowd, “That’s not funny! That’s mean! You’re all a bunch of—”

  Brendan’s hand strategically covered her mouth.

  The bears advanced on Felix. He tossed his sword from one hand to the other. Felix was in trouble—he had more than enough of his body exposed for polar bear teeth to chomp through. The bear on the left roared and charged—

  And Felix flipped his sword backward and knocked it in the chin with the hilt!

  The bear stumbled back as if punched. Felix whirled and took a swipe at the other animal, cutting off some fur underneath its chin.

  “See, he’s not so bad!” Brendan told Eleanor. “He could’ve cut that bear to ribbons but he didn’t.”

  The crowd cheered louder than they had for Brendan: “Felix! Felix!” The bears got ready for another attack.

  Cordelia was riveted. The gladiator—a kid, really—had such a great smile. But if he weren’t as talented as his confidence indicated, he would end up Hamburger Helper. It would be such a shame. She understood suddenly why people went to bullfights. She found herself chanting: “Felix! Felix!”

  The bears ran at the warrior full-on. He readied his sword. But this time the animals were smarter; when they got within striking distance, one of them leaped over Felix, slashing down with its claws, as the other barreled into him. Felix’s attention was split—he tried to attack up and down at the same time—and one bear took out his legs while the other knocked him forward. He hit the ground . . . and now the two bears were on top of him, their mouths heaving, long runners of spit hanging from their teeth, about to chow down.

  “Stop!” Cordelia yelled. “Supreme Emperor, please make it stop!”

  Occipus raised his eyebrows. Something in Cordelia was making a major impression on him. And he suddenly had a truly spectacular idea, one that would absolutely dazzle the crowd. Occipus whispered something to Rodicus, who smiled, then shouted into the ancient megaphone, “Stop the battle!”

  The guards who had formed a perimeter around Felix whipped at the bears, forcing them back. The crowd booed. Occipus grabbed Cordelia’s wrist and started to lead her away from his viewing area.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Into the arena,” said Occipus.

  “Hey, wait!” Brendan said, shocked. Will and Eleanor backed him up. “Don’t take my sister away!”

  Occipus laughed: a deep, burbling sound that resembled bubbling muck. Then he snapped his fingers and the guards grabbed Brendan, Eleanor, and Will.

  “This is my Colosseum!” Occipus declared. “I can do whatever I want. And I want to bring Cordelia into the arena, to meet the man she admires!”

  “Wait! No, stop—” Cordelia said, but Occipus was done talking. He dragged her down the dark staircase that led into the arena. His small hands were very strong, and his determined, stubby legs moved quickly. In seconds, he pulled Cordelia onto the dusty field, where the polar bears were being led back inside the black gate. Felix stood at attention. As they got close to him, Rodicus narrated their progress from the balcony.

  “The emperor is bringing Cordelia from New Brittania to meet Felix the Greek. She has just begged the emperor for Felix’s life! It can only mean one thing, esteemed citizens! Yes, that’s right . . . now the Supreme Emperor is clasping their hands together! The vows will begin shortly.”

  “What do you mean, ‘vows’?” said Brendan.

  “Wedding vows,” said Rodicus. “Our laws dictate that if a young maiden saves the life of a gladiator, she must marry him.”

  “What?” asked a stunned Will.

  “In a few moments,” said Rodicus, “the Supreme Emperor will perform the ceremony. Then Felix and Cordelia will be man and wife.”

  In the center of the arena, Cordelia was overwhelmed with noise and attention. The entire crowd was on its feet, wildly cheering for Felix—And for me, I guess? she asked herself. She hadn’t heard Rodicus say the word vows over the cheers; she didn’t realize what was going on. She just knew that Occipus’s clammy hand was holding hers and Felix’s together.

  Felix, however, understood how to use the attention of the crowd. He took off his helmet and waved. Everyone cheered. He spoke to Cordelia without looking at her: “Thank you for saving me.”

  “You’re welcome,” said Cordelia. The crowd was so loud that they could speak freely. “I need to get back to my house. You know the one that just appeared in the arena? It’s my family’s. But the guards took it away with hooks and ropes—”

  “I’ll h
elp you get it back,” Felix said. He had a slow, even voice. “I’ll help any way I can. But the emperor will get angry if we leave before—”

  “And now,” called Rodicus from the balcony, “the Supreme Emperor will begin the wedding ceremony!”

  “Wedding ceremony?” asked Cordelia. “What wedding ceremony?”

  “Uh . . . ours?” said Felix.

  “Ours? Are you kidding me? Why would I marry you? We just met!”

  “Roman law,” said Felix. “When a woman saves a gladiator from death, she is required to marry him. Didn’t you know that?”

  “There’s no such law. That’s not historically accurate! It’s totally made up!”

  “It was created by Occipus.”

  Cordelia paused. Of course. We’re in one of Kristoff’s books. It’s all fiction. Kristoff made up this stupid rule just to make the plot of his book more exciting! And now I’m the victim of some writer’s whimsy!

  “Felix the Greek,” said Occipus, still holding their hands, “do you take the lovely Cordelia of New Brittania to be your bride?”

  Felix smiled into Cordelia’s terrified face. His eyes seemed to say: Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. But it didn’t make Cordelia feel any better. She wasn’t going to be stuck in some arranged marriage, even if it was in a magical world and would never be technically recognized by the state of California—

  “Wait a minute!” Cordelia said. “I’m only fifteen years old!”

  “So?” Occipus said.

  “I’m still a minor. It’s illegal for me to marry anyone! Isn’t that a law here?”

  “Hmmm . . . ,” Occipus said. “Did you say you were fifteen?”

  “Yes!”

  “Well, Felix is seventeen. So no problem there.”

  “What?” Cordelia turned to Felix. “How can you be a gladiator at seventeen?”

  “I was sold to Rome when I was a toddler.”

  “Besides,” Occipus said, “the legal age for marriage under my rule is thirteen.”

  “Thirteen?!” shouted Cordelia. “You are one sick—”

  “I suggest you hold your tongue, young lady,” said Occipus, “or I will have it removed, and Felix will have the distinction of being married to a wife who cannot speak!”

  Cordelia stayed silent, terrified. What can I do? Nothing for now. I have to play along. This is all about survival. All about getting from moment to moment, until I can find a way to sneak us all back into our home. Once we’re there, we know all the secret passages. The Roman guards will be at a disadvantage. And we’ll find a way back to Mom and Dad. Just play along, Cordelia, and survive.

  “Now,” said Occipus. “The next two words out of your mouth should be I do.”

  “I do,” Felix said.

  Cordelia swung her gaze around the arena, where everyone was on their feet, eagerly watching the ceremony. Emperor Occipus gave one thumb up to Rodicus.

  “It looks like the groom has accepted the marriage proposal. But what about our bride?”

  “Cordelia,” said Occipus, “do you take Felix the Greek as your husband?”

  Cordelia felt as if she were about to faint, throw up, and wet her pants all at the same time. She had been through some pretty scary life-and-death situations, but nothing quite as gut-wrenching as marrying someone she just met.

  Occipus raised an eyebrow. “Your answer, please?”

  “No, no, no, no, no!” interrupted Brendan, shouting as he ran across the arena. “Her answer’s no!!”

  “How dare you interrupt my ceremony?” said Occipus. “How did you escape?” But then he saw his dark-haired mistress following and realized she had let them come down from their seats. Eleanor and Will were being held back by guards in the upstairs viewing area.

  Occipus smiled. Of course, this could all be part of the grand spectacle. Brendan’s appearance created more drama, more conflict for the crowd. And they loved it! The Colosseum sounded like it was full of excited hyenas.

  Occipus dropped Cordelia’s and Felix’s hands. He stepped toward Brendan, making grandiose gestures as if he were in a play.

  “You think you can speak to me as if I were a commoner? Why don’t you give me one good reason not to have you executed, ‘lion tamer’?”

  The emperor drew his finger across his throat. Seeing this, Rodicus announced to the crowd: “It looks as though Brendan has offended our great emperor! We may have a wedding and a crucifixion in the Colosseum today!”

  The crowd screamed and whooped. Brendan dropped to his knees.

  “Okay, fine, sorry!” he said. “It won’t happen again!”

  “That’s more appropriate,” said Occipus, and he helped Brendan up, waving to the crowd as if to say, I’ll let this one live.

  Rodicus announced: “The emperor’s empathy knows no bounds!”

  The crowd cheered. And Brendan realized that Occipus had the Roman people completely under his thumb. As long as he kept up bizarre stunts like marrying Cordelia off and threatening Brendan, they would be entertained—and he would hold on to power. It was brilliant, really.

  “Back to our lovely couple,” said Occipus. “Miss Cordelia, do you take Felix the Greek to be your husband?”

  Cordelia had a plan. She looked at the emperor and said, “I’m starting to understand how wise you are. A marriage to a gladiator I favor would be wonderful. But where will we live?”

  “Live? You’ll live in the slaves’ quarters.”

  Cordelia had to fight to hold down her disgust. Her feelings about this stubby, selfish emperor were exactly the opposite of Brendan’s. Where Brendan saw a skilled manipulator, she saw someone who had squandered an opportunity to lead. If she ever got home, ever got to grow up and become a leader, she would use her power wisely, to help people, not gorge herself on food and stage wasteful stunts.

  “Supreme Emperor, as you know,” she said in her most delicate voice, “my family and I are not from here. We traveled here through the magic of our house. And we need to stay in that house.”

  “Why?”

  “To make sure that you and your people aren’t hurt by the house’s magic.”

  “Are you threatening me?” asked Occipus.

  “I’m protecting you.”

  Occipus jutted out his lip, pondering Cordelia’s words. Then he nodded at one of the guards, who ran off the field toward the black gates where the lions and polar bears had emerged.

  The gates raised. In a few minutes, a line of slaves stepped out of the darkness within. The slaves were all hunched forward, with ropes slung over their shoulders, heaving as hard as they could. Line after line came out, each pulling a heavy rope.

  Inch by inch, Kristoff House came into the arena.

  “You’ve got your wish, young lady,” Occipus said. “Are you ready to complete the ceremony?”

  Cordelia stared at the house. The barrels underneath it were still intact; the slaves were using them to roll the house forward. (Kristoff House had been on stilts back in San Francisco, with barrels attached to its underside, to help it float in case it ever fell off the cliff where it was perched.) Even in this strange place, it was her home, and it nearly brought a tear to her eye.

  Cordelia took a deep breath. The marriage won’t count anywhere but here. And in a few hours we’ll be back inside Kristoff House, and then we’ll find some way to get back to San Francisco, and then anybody who says he’s my husband will go to jail.

  She glanced at Felix—he was giving her the same kind, reassuring look he had before. She looked up to the emperor’s balcony, at Will, held captive by guards with swords; he didn’t have his gun; he shook his head ominously. She looked to Eleanor, next to Will; she shrugged.

  Cordelia decided that no matter what happened, she could take care of herself. She was a Walker. Surely she could handle a phony marriage.

  “I do.”

  Occipus clasped her hand to Felix’s and raised them both. “I pronounce you man and wife!”

  The crowd roared. Occipus s
tepped away satisfied. Cordelia realized that Felix’s face was very close to hers. Oh no, I’m supposed to kiss him!

  Oh well, Cordelia thought. Keep your mouth closed tight, grit your teeth, and give one lightning-fast kiss the way you used to with Granny, who had pointy black moles and a prickly mustache. It’ll be over in no time!

  But as Felix leaned toward her lips, Cordelia saw something inside Kristoff House that stunned her. She opened her mouth wide, but not to give Felix a kiss. To scream.

  “What did you do to Kristoff House?”

  Cordelia could see through one of the living-room windows—and inside, the house was totally trashed! It looked like burglars had gone through it and dumped everything on the floor—plus a bunch of furniture was missing. She broke away from Felix and ran to the house, as Felix protested and Occipus laughed wetly.

  “What did you do?” Cordelia yelled to the emperor. “Why would you mess up our house like that?”

  “For this,” said Occipus, as a slave approached him with Cordelia’s mother’s silver tray that she used for fancy dinners. On top of the tray was all of the jewelry in Kristoff House: Mrs. Walker’s necklaces, rings, bracelets, earrings . . . even Dr. Walker’s Keith Richards skull ring that somebody gave him as a joke. Emperor Occipus stuck his hand into the pile and started putting things on.

  “Hey! That stuff belongs to my mom!” said Cordelia.

  “Not anymore,” said the emperor. “I’ve also made sure that the slaves removed any bedding and furniture that I thought would be appropriate for my personal quarters. Plus any books that may fit well in my library. But I’m sure there are a few things left in the house for you to enjoy, since you insist on living there.”

  Occipus turned to the crowd and shrugged with his hands full of Walker family heirlooms.

  “I declare these games to be over!” Occipus said, making a signal to Rodicus, who repeated the announcement at high volume.

  The people cheered for minutes as Occipus waved. It sounded as if they had just witnessed the Super Bowl, and Cordelia could picture them all going home, talking to one another, recapping the day’s events and ignoring the fact that they each had a life expectancy of about forty-five. She hated Rome.