Chapter 2:
“Of all the days to report back to the king and queen, it had to be today during a torrential downpour.” Alfred complained to no one in particular. It was his job as a double agent to give occasional reports back to his home rulers, but he really didn’t want to do it today. He hated rain. Not as much as that cat, but enough that this was a miserable experience for him.
He leaned against a huge oak tree and dried off his rectangular glasses, rendered pretty much useless by the rain. Ugh, how he despised rain. It made his blonde hair wet and saggy (except for that stubborn cowlick) and made him feel disgusting all over. He knew full well how that blasted cat felt.
Deciding that the faster he got to the meeting spot, the faster he could get back to Heart Castle, Alfred began walking once again, already dreading the idea of going back into the rain.
Well, he was about to, when the unnatural shaking of bushes nearly landed him in a tree.
“GHOST!” He shouted out of reflex, his sky blue eyes widening.
“No, you idiot. It’s me.” A quiet voice spoke and with it, another young man emerged. His violet eyes rolled and his wavy blonde hair looked impeccable. He wore the uniform of an officer of the White Army and he gently held a white bear in his arms. The young man re-adjusted his oval glasses and stepped closer. “How can you keep forgetting your own brother?”
Al laughed a bit and relaxed. Of course it was his brother; he was the only one who was capable of sneaking up on him like that. “Sorry, bro. My bad.”
With an exasperated sigh, Matthew shook his head. “Right. Of course.”
“I mean it~” Suddenly realizing what he was supposed to do, he began his much needed report, only to have a dreadful moan cut him off, nearly causing him to jump into his brother’s arms and replace the fluffy bear.
“Alfred, it’s not a ghost-”
“Then what is it?!” Even Matthew – brave and brilliant Matthew – couldn’t give him a proper answer.
“Whatever it is, it’s probably nothing to worry about. But I suppose I’ll check it out for you.” Making sure his rabbit of a brother wasn’t going to die of loneliness if he left, he rounded the tree they were under to inspect the origin of the mystery moan.
A sight of blood splotched over the ground, mixing in with the mud and rain around the tattered clothes, loosely hanging off an emaciated cadaver met him. The man face down on the ground, passed out long ago from exhaustion, looked like a mirror image of a corpse ready for burial. The clothes barely shielded him from the elements and only served in identifying their master as the infamous Duke of Red.
“Man, we should leave him.” Alfred suggested. Both knew that if the man in question died, they would have one less enemy to worry about killing later. It would be for their benefit if he died then and there.
However, Matthew’s kind soul was tugged in several different directions. Sure, he was the Duke of Red, but the poor man was dying. He had to help him and could deal with the consequences of helping an enemy later.
“No, we’re helping him.” With certain finality, Matthew put one arm under the injured noble and began the trek to the forest safe house. “Let’s go. We need to make it home before the sun falls. We don’t want the Jabberwok after us too.”
Alfred shuddered at the name. The Jabberwok was certainly someone you did not want to see late at night. He was a known murderer, used by either side to do their dirty work for cheap. When he wasn’t on a job, he was “hunting” poor souls who were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Taking the spot opposite to his brother, the double agent helped lift the Duke. “Yeah, let’s hurry up.”
