Page 21 of May Queen: May Day

“Isn’t that the Druid’s dagger?” asked Nash.

“What Druid?” Flora questioned him, to find out how much he knew.

“You know, the man in the forest who killed the boar and saved your life,” said Nash. “That was the dagger he used. Lord Ricard, I’m surprised you are using a pagan’s dagger since you hate them and want to kill them.”

Flora’s heart leapt into her throat. How could Ricard be so cruel as to want to kill off people he didn’t even know? Her father was among them.

“I must have grabbed the wrong dagger in my sleep,” said Ricard, walking back to don his weapon belt. “I’ll warn you both never to awaken me when I’m sleeping. Next time, you might not be so lucky.”

“Aye, my lord,” said Nash with a gulp. “Had I known you were in Lady Flora’s bed, I never would have came to the door.”

“Don’t make it sound as if we’ve coupled because we didn’t,” Ricard told his squire. “And I swear, if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll have your head.”

“Aye, my lord.”

“Now, get down to the great hall and tell my brothers that I’ll expect them to make the rounds of the forest and find out where those pagans are hiding. I’ve got to find them and eliminate them soon. This has gone on too long.”

“Pagans? Eliminate them?” Flora was aghast. “You are barbaric to be going on a manhunt to kill people who have done nothing to you!”

“They killed my parents,” he said in a low voice, leaving Flora at a loss for words. She could barely believe it, and neither did she want to think it was true. From what she understood with her mother’s dying words, the Druids were docile and not violent at all. But what if she was wrong? If what Ricard said was true, could she be hunting down a man who might end up killing her? After all, if her father was so docile and such a good man, why had her mother not stayed with him? Why had Flora been raised in a life of lies? She’d grown up believing that her father was a knight killed in battle, instead of a descendant of the Druids hiding out in the forest.

She didn’t know what to think anymore. But one thing she knew for sure was that she needed to find and talk to her father before Ricard’s men killed him. She wouldn’t go to her death never having gotten to know the man who sired her. Even if he really was a pagan, he was still her father.

* * *

The meal tobreak the fast had ended, and Ricard gave his brothers instructions before they left.

“Dayton, be sure to take a party of men and head back to the oak forest where everything happened.”

“I will,” said Dayton, mounting his horse. “However, I think it is a waste of time. That is where we saw them, so it’s the last place they’d be.”

“Well, Lang is taking another group of soldiers and heading in the opposite direction. They’ll travel along the river. The Druids need water, and if they don’t have horses, they’ll have to walk. So that is probably where we’ll find them.”

“I think I’d rather go to the oak forest,” said Lang, slipping a flask inside his pouch and climbing atop his horse. “I really don’t like water.”

“Well, I wish I could say the same thing about your fondness of whisky, little brother,” said Ricard.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“Nay?” Ricard reached up and pulled the flask out of his brother’s pouch. “I’ll not have you so far in your cups that you can’t aim straight if it comes to taking them down.”

“Give that back, Ricard. It’s not whisky.”

“Really?” Ricard opened the flask and brought it to his lips, taking a swig of brandy. “Ah, I like this even better.”

“What is it?” asked Dayton, his head snapping upwards. “I want a taste. Throw it over here.”

“Nay, give me that.” Lang reached down for it, but Ricard capped the flask and threw it to Dayton. “Get going. Both of you.” He looked up to the clouded sky that was now blocking the sun. “It’s going to storm soon, so don’t tarry.”

“Why don’t you go?” asked Lang, sounding sore at Ricard for taking away his flask.

“I’ve got to stay with Lady Flora and watch her like a hawk so she doesn’t try to sneak off again.”

“Why don’t you just take her back to bed?” asked Lang.

“What?” Ricard’s head snapped around.

“Aye, we hear you’ve been sampling the milk before you’ve bought the cow,” said Dayton with a chuckle, taking a swig of brandy.