Page 6 of May Queen: May Day

Chapter 3

“Idon’t like it, I tell you.” Ricard paced his solar the next morning, talking with his brothers, Dayton and Lang. His squire, Nash, hurried around the room, tending to Ricard’s needs and opening the shutter to let in fresh air and sunshine.

“What’s there not to like?” asked his brother, Dayton, yawning, stretching out his long legs as he half-reclined in a chair. He was the middle brother, built like a fortress and a year younger than Ricard. “I hear from Nash that the girl is a raving beauty.”

“Aye,” agreed Lang, pouring himself some wine from a decanter. Lang was the youngest of the three brothers at only two and twenty years of age. He had brown hair like the other two, but his eyes were gray, while Ricard’s were an oaken hue and Dayton had eyes of bright blue. “I’ll take her if you don’t want her. Not for marrying purposes, of course, but just for a night or two of pleasure.”

“You’re not touching the girl,” Ricard told him. “And stop drinking because I need both of you sober for the hunt today.” Ricard snatched the goblet of wine away from Lang and downed it, handing him back the empty cup. “Little brother, I think you’ve got too strong of a liking for the bottle. No woman is going to want to be your wife when you act like a rogue.”

Lang looked down into the empty cup and turned to pour himself some more wine. “I do not act like a rogue. And the reason I’m not married is only because I am waiting for my older brothers to marry first as is proper.”

“I’m not sure I want to marry,” complained Dayton. “I like being free to go where I want and when I want. Since Ricard inherited father’s fief, there is nothing left for either of us,” he told Lang.

“Well, I thought I wanted to get married and found the perfect girl, but now I’m not so sure,” said Ricard.

“What is the problem?” Dayton stood up and stretched and yawned. “You are getting married, and that is a good thing, right?” He headed across the room to Lang. “After all, if you’re married to the baron’s niece, the king will find you stable. All you care about is what others think of you, so you’ll have it made.”

“As long as he doesn’t scare the girl away,” said Lang with a chuckle. He held the goblet of wine up to his mouth, but Dayton pulled it away from him and drank it down this time.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be worried,” said Ricard, sitting down to put on his boots. “Still, I get a feeling in my gut that there is something foul going on here.”

“The only thing foul is the pheasants we’ll catch on the hunt today.” Dayton laughed at his own jest and handed the goblet back to Lang. The side of Lang’s mouth quivered as he stared down into the empty vessel, once again. He turned to pour himself another glass of wine.

“I suppose you’re right.” Ricard stood up and straightened his tunic, never liking to go anywhere unless he was presentable. “Squire, tell the kennelgroom to prepare the hounds. Instruct him to bring the spiked collars since we’re hunting boar this trip.”

“Aye,” said Nash, only half-paying attention since something took his interest out the window.

“You know, if you want to be in the king’s favor, you’re going to have to rid the woods of those pagans,” said Dayton. “It has been nearly a year and still you haven’t been able to catch them. They are starting to become a problem. One of their fires got out of control last month and burned the winter crops, if you haven’t forgotten.”

“I realize that. That’s one of the reasons I am organizing this hunt,” Ricard told his brother, strapping his weapon belt around his waist. “I don’t want it known what we’re really doing, because it might cause an upset with the rest of the men. However, wild boar is not all we’ll be hunting this trip. We’ll also be searching for the hiding places of those troublesome Druids in the forest.”

“Do you think we can find them?” asked Lang, filling the goblet to the rim with wine and putting down the empty decanter. “After all, they’ve been able to evade us every time we’ve come close to catching them.”

“Well, if not, they’ll only continue with their rituals and bonfires, violating the king’s lands,” said Ricard. “We’ve got to find them and eliminate them at once. If these lands are to be safe, I cannot tolerate the works of the devil in my forest.”

Ricard looked over to the window, noticing Nash still standing there, staring out into the courtyard. “Squire, are you deaf?” he asked him. “Didn’t you hear me tell you to get down to the kennels?”

“Aye, my lord,” said Nash, still looking out the window. “However, I think you might want to see this first.”

“Whatever it is, I don’t care.” Ricard walked up behind him, meaning to close the shutter until he glanced out the window and saw his betrothed climbing atop her horse. “Is that Lady Flora?” he asked, taking a step closer to the window and peering out.

“Aye, my lord,” answered Nash. “The stable boy just saddled her horse for her. Where do you suppose she’s going?”

“Nowhere, if I have anything to say about it. And we know I do.” Ricard slammed the shutter closed and spun around on his heel. “Let’s go. There is no time to waste.” He hurried past Lang who was raising a goblet of wine to his mouth. Turning around in one motion, Ricard grabbed the vessel from him. “Egads, Lang, how many of these are you going to drink?” He downed the wine in two gulps and slammed the goblet down on the table. “Now, I’m not going to put up with any more of your drunkenness on the hunt, do you understand? You are a bad influence on the men, not to mention your brothers. Get your horses, both of you,” he commanded to his brothers. “Meet me in the courtyard and prepare to leave on the hunt anon. I have to stop my betrothed before she runs off and starts problems between me and her uncle.”

* * *

Flora mounted her horse quickly,glancing over her shoulder, hoping she hadn’t been spotted. The sun had just risen and she hoped Sir Ricard and his men would still be sleeping. If she were fast, she could make it to the forest and back before anyone even realized she was gone.

She had just turned her steed and started to ride to the drawbridge when a man’s shout from behind her stopped her in her tracks.

“Lady Flora, where are you going?”

She groaned inwardly, recognizing the voice of Sir Ricard. What was he doing awake this early? By the looks and smell of him last night, she figured he’d still be sleeping off the effects of all the alcohol he’d consumed.

“My dearly betrothed,” she said, turning and forcing a smile. “You are up early today.”

Ricard hurried to her with his squire right behind him.