Bride Behind the Mask

Chapter 4: Where is the Meat (Part 2 of 2)

Thanks for all the supportive comments that pushed me to continue writing after this point! Dedicated to a randomly selected commenter, thank you @lene5714 :)

Chapter 4: Where is the Meat (Part 2 of 2)

An arrow whizzed through the air, lodging itself in the trunk of an old pine. The frightened hare reacted out of instinct, bounding off into the distance as fast as its four legs could carry it.

Henry's hearty laughter rang through the woods, sending a flock of birds scattering into the summer sky. "There goes your supper," he teased.

Drake muttered a curse. The damnable witch had made him restless with frustration. So much so that the only targets he had hit all morning were trees and earth. What kind of woman struck her husband at their wedding ceremony, then lit firecrackers in the house on their wedding night? Not the kind he wanted anything to do with, that was for sure.

Witch. Even in her absence she'd ruined his morning hunt. Whereas Henry had already had men carry two fat pigeons, one deer and two boars' worth of loot back to the manor, he remained sorely empty-handed. Slinging the bow over his shoulder with more force than necessary, Drake turned to leave before he allowed himself further embarrassment.

Henry followed swiftly, his footsteps light in comparison to the heaviness of Drake's stomps. "Your wife is a very... amusing woman," he commented, residual laughter evident in his eyes.

"Clearly, we do not share the same tastes in women." And many other things, Drake added silently, thinking of the many oddities that oft amused his friend.

"You did not like the firecrackers?" Henry grinned in response to the deepening scowl on Drake's face. "It was a nice touch, I thought. Better than the entertainment you organised."

Drake almost rolled his eyes. When had Henry ever visited anywhere outside of his own home without complaining of the lack of playthings? "Speak to William if my home bores you so."

"Ah. Every man who has a steward blames his steward. Shouldn't you be glad your wife is more creative than you and that old fart?"

If Amelia was creative and amusing, he'd much rather have uncreative and boring. "If you like her so much,"—he nudged Henry in the ribs—"I'll trade her for your sister," he said with a wink.

"Speaking of my sister..." Henry drawled as he dragged an arm over the back of his friend's neck. Suddenly, Drake was pulled into a headlock, before Henry proceeded to beat playfully at him with his free hand and legs.

Drake wrestled back with a groan, grabbing a handful of Henry's sandy curls and fighting the attacking legs with his own.

The men stumbled, laughed, and fought their way to the edge of the woods. Two horses lifted their heads and neighed in harmony with the odd grunts and chuckles from their masters' play-fighting.

"I did not... Isabella... We did not..." Drake sought to explain through his ragged breaths as he prepared to lunge at his friend again.

Henry held up his hands in mock surrender. "I know, I know... I know Bell. Well, I mean... I don't know what she ever saw in you—Whoa!" He leapt back just in time to avoid another incoming swing. "No, no, I take it back, I take it back!" he screamed.

Drake gave Henry another threatening glare before running to his horse. He nimbly untied its reins from the tree and hoisted himself into the saddle. The great beast reared once before charging into the open field at Drake's command. He'd lost the confrontation against his wife. He'd lost miserably against every animal he attempted to hunt. He refused to lose again this morn, especially when he cheated for a head start. "Race you to the manor!" he shouted to Henry behind him.