Page 26 of May Queen: May Day

Chapter 8

“Are you sure you heard her correctly?” Ricard asked his squire an hour later as Nash and Dayton finished loading the dowry into the wardrobe of his solar.

“Aye, I heard Lady Flora talking about the Druids, I’m sure of it,” said Nash, rolling one of the barrels of wine toward the small chamber attached to the room.

Lang sat at a desk with a piece of parchment and a feathered quill and ink in front of him. “Here, let me help with that.” He jumped up, but Ricard cleared his throat. “My squire has his job and you have yours, Brother,” Ricard reminded him. “Now please finish writing the missive to the baron just as I’ve instructed. Then I will send a messenger to deliver it right away.”

“I don’t understand why you don’t make a scribe write this,” complained Lang, picking up the feathered quill and dunking it into the ink. “Or just do it yourself.”

“I don’t need a scribe to write it when you can do it for me,” explained Ricard. “After all, you know that out of the three of us, you have the neatest handwriting.”

“What’s wrong with the way I write?” asked Dayton, carrying a trunk on his shoulder and placing it down on the floor.

“Dayton,” said Ricard. “Everyone knows that you’re the brawn of the family, I’m the brains, and our little brother is the creative one. When he’s not soused, anyway.”

“Soused?” Lang’s head jerked up and he scowled. “How can I be soused when you never let alcohol get close to my lips?”

“Just finish the missive and stop running at the mouth,” said Ricard.

“There.” Lang dotted the last period and blew on the parchment to dry it. He held it up and smiled as he perused his masterpiece. “All you need to do is sign it.”

Ricard walked over and took the quill from him, scribbling his name across the bottom. Dayton peered over their shoulders.

“Did you really need to draw grapevines and little butterflies and bees down the side of the page, Lang?” Dayton rolled his eyes. “I swear, sometimes I think you should have been born a girl.”

“Well, I’m the creative one of the family, just like Ricard said.” Lang smiled, taking the parchment back from Ricard and blowing on his signature next. “I pride myself in my work.”

“More likely, you couldn’t stop thinking about the wine, and that’s why you drew it on the missive,” mumbled Dayton.

“I didn’t get to taste it like you did, Brother. Was it good?” asked Lang, all but drooling at the mouth at the thought of it.

“The best I’ve ever tasted,” Dayton goaded him. “You really need to try it.”

“That’s it! I want to taste the wine.” Lang shot out of his chair but Ricard’s hand to his shoulder stopped him, and he pushed Lang back down to a sitting position.

“Make sure to stamp the wax with my seal carefully so it doesn’t smear,” Ricard instructed.

“Don’t I always?” Lang glared at Ricard and proceeded to fold and seal the missive.

“Nash, what else did you hear?” asked Ricard, opening the trunk Dayton brought in, inspecting the contents. Inside were things that looked like personal female items such as clothes and shoes. He held up an undergarment in one hand and an ornate headpiece made of velvet with silk ribbons in the other.

“She told the old woman something about her father and that she was trying to find him,” said Nash.

“Her father?” Ricard looked up in confusion. “I thought the baron said her father died in battle. You must be mistaken.”

“Nay, I’m sure she said it. I read her lips,” Nash told them.

“You need to stop reading lips,” said Lang, dribbling wax from a candle onto the missive and pressing Ricard’s seal into it. “You are invading peoples’ privacy.”

“It’s a talent I’m proud of having,” said Nash, standing up straighter and lifting his chin.

“Well, I didn’t hear Lady Flora say anything about her father.” Dayton walked over and collapsed atop the bed, laying back and throwing his arm over his face.

“Off the bed!” snapped Ricard. “You are soiling the bedcovers with your dirty clothes.”

“They’re only dirty because you insisted on having me haul your dowry to the solar instead of having a servant do it.” Dayton didn’t move.

“I trust you with my things more than I do my servants,” said Ricard. “Besides, you are stronger than three of them put together. Now, Nash, I want to know everything you think Lady Flora said to her handmaid.”