The Duke's Masked Wife

"Shit," Timothy cursed.

"You need to keep pressing it down before you lose more blood," Alfred advised him.

"I-I know but it fucking hurt," Timothy said with eyes full of tears. He knew he wasn't going to make it too far with the wound in his side. "You should leave and find help for yourself. You are hurt too," he said, looking at Alfred's slumped arm.

They were ambushed on their way out of town by a small group of men. Alfred had warned him to prepare for danger on the way back so he kept a weapon by his side. As prepared as they were, they were still outnumbered.

Alfred exited the carriage with a knife he bought somewhere and aided Timothy in the fight.

"You are not too bad for your age," Timothy complimented Alfred. Alfred used a smaller weapon but he was smart in his attacks and able to take away a sword to use on their enemies.

Timothy was stabbed in his side by a man who attacked him while he was fighting another so Alfred did most of the work killing the group of men. The last man had unfortunately wounded Alfred's right arm and now he could barely lift it.

"Keep in shape, eat healthily, and train regularly. Those are the secrets to keeping up with the young folk at this age. Being by Edgar's side isn't all sunshine so you must know your way in a fight. And where I grew up was rough for a couple of years," Alfred replied.

"I doubt I will need those secrets," Timothy said, his lips trembling as he spoke. The pain in his side was unbearable. More unbearable than any wound he ever had in his life. He suspected the weapon was coated with something. "Y-You need to go, Alfred. There are more of them coming and they will follow the trail of my blood. The snow won't cover it in time."

Alfred continued to press the cloth he tore from his clothes against Timothy's side. "Their target is me. You will not be the one to die."

After they had killed the men who attacked them, Alfred tried to put Timothy in the carriage to quickly take him home to receive help but he found the carriage wheel had a weapon lodged into it. He could not pull it out with his wounded arm and they could not wait as Alfred spotted more men approaching them from the direction the first group of men had come out to attack them.

Alfred was faced with two options. Run with a wounded Timothy or risk time by cutting a horse free to ride. The second option was risky since they would be standing around the carriage while a group of men was charging to attack them but he moved quickly to cut a horse free and placed Timothy in front of him before riding off.

Lifting Timothy onto the horse had done more damage to his arm. There was a feeling like something was ripping but Alfred ignored it, moving quickly to get on the horse before the men were a couple of feet away. By some luck, they managed to lose the men after Alfred rode into an area with trees and no homes. They stopped when Timothy groaned in pain and it was then Alfred noticed the wound had opened up. Should he ride anymore, Timothy would die from the blood loss.

Back in the present, Timothy shakingly touched Alfred's arm. "Please run away, Alfred. It won't be long until they find out where we have stopped. You cannot fight with one arm and I am no use to you. Please leave. The Duke needs you more than he needs me. I owe him my life and now I am repaying him for it."

Timothy could have died long ago if not for Edgar who presented him with a second chance and gave him work to drive him around. He was ready to die back then and he was ready now. He did not want Alfred to die along with him when Edgar needed him.

"I will lead them away from you and return as fast as I can. It would be best if you stayed awake," Alfred said. If Timothy drifted to sleep he might never wake up because death would creep up on him while he slept or the snow would fall and cover him completely.

Alfred removed his hands from Timothy's side and mounted the horse that was grazing on a small patch of grass not covered by the snow. He looked over Timothy one last time before riding off, yelling as loud as he could to get the men chasing them far away from where Timothy lay. If he could only make it back to the main road to get a passing-by carriage to tell Edgar of what was happening, he could save both their lives.

"That fool," Timothy mumbled, trembling from both the cold and the pain.

The sky started to become darker as night was approaching. Edgar had long found his carriage with the dead men around it and set out with the men and dogs Reed caught up to him with. The men slipt up in groups to search the area. Edgar knew that someone had gotten away since a horse was missing.

A man sent into town returned to him with information that Alfred was seen leaving town in a carriage. He was given the names of shops Alfred was seen in and that Alfred had spoken to a woman at one point.

The dogs lead the way through the trees while Edgar and his men followed behind on horses.  THe dogs sniffing the land, the horses throttling, and the loud cries of the wind were the only sounds heard.

"Over here!" A yell broke the silence.

Edgar followed the direction of the voice, anticipating that they had found Alfred alive and well. However, he was met with disappointment and sadness among the men who made a discovery.

Timothy's head was found sticking out of the snow while the rest of his body was covered. Two men pushed the snow off of him and revealed the red snow that was coated in his blood.

"He has been dead for a couple of hours," a man informed Edgar.

Edgar gripped the reins of his horse, angered by Timothy's death. He was fond of the man just as he was with all his other followers. "Take his body home so he can receive a proper burial. Continue to inspect every inch of the land. There is a chance Alfred's body might be covered in snow."

Seeing that Timothy was dead, Edgar started to lose hope that Alfred was still alive. He could only hope Alfred might have separated from Timothy or been taken captive. It was far better than him being dead right now. There was still hope to save Alfred if he was taken. Edgar prayed not to stumble across a large pile of snow in fear that Alfred might be found dead under it.