Page 67 of May Queen: May Day

“Oh,Flora, we are now truly husband and wife.” Ricard held Flora close in his arms after they’d finished making love, looking up at the twinkling stars that peeked out at them through the trees.

“I am happy to be your wife, Ricard.” Flora laid her head on his chest. “I never would have dreamed my first time making love would be at a Beltane festival in the forest.”

“Normally, I would worry about what people thought of me. Especially if I did something this crazy,” Ricard told her. “But since meeting you, I have started not to care so much of others’ opinions.”

Mug stepped out from behind a bush with a sickle in his hand. “Neither of you will have to worry about that anymore, since you won’t be around to tell anyone.” The sickle shone in the moonlight as Mug held it higher.

“Mug!” shouted Flora, grabbing her gown and holding it in front of her. Ricard’s eyes darted to the side where he’d laid his weapon belt, then over to Flora and back to Mug. If he dove for his weapons, Mug might kill Flora before he could stop him. If he tackled Mug without a weapon, he’d not have much of a chance since he was naked.

“Why are you doing this?” growled Ricard, pushing up to his knees.

“I’m doing it for the same reason I killed you parents,” spat the man. “The ancient Druids believed in human sacrifice and so do I.” He took a step closer and Flora screamed. Ricard held out his hands, slowly getting to his feet.

“Now, I’m sure human sacrifice is only a myth,” said Ricard.

“My father told me the Druids don’t do that anymore,” said Flora, dressing quickly while keeping an eye on Mug.

“He doesn’t know everything,” spat Mug.

“Why would you want to kill Flora?” asked Ricard, inching his way toward his weapons. “She’s of Druid blood. She’s one of your own kind.”

“She is nothing but trouble,” said Mug. “She’s got her father thinking about staying here with her instead of going back to Ireland where we belong. If she’s not around, his mind won’t be confused.”

“I think your mind is the only one that’s confused.” Ricard had to protect Flora and his weapons were too far away. So, taking a risk, he lunged at the man, getting cut on the arm by the edge of the sharp sickle as they fought. Ricard knocked Mug to the ground and they rolled over branches and rocks. But being naked, Ricard felt the elements of nature against his skin more than Mug did. He pushed up to his knees, but it was too late. Mug’s sickle came swiping down right at him.

Flora screamedwhen she saw Mug swinging his sickle at Ricard. She reached out and picked up Ricard’s dagger and rushed forward to try to stop him. Before she could, someone dove in front of Ricard and took the blade meant for him, protecting Ricard from getting killed.

“Father!” screamed Flora, dropping the dagger in surprise. Mug turned and swung the sickle at her next, but she jumped out of the way. Ricard grabbed the dagger she’d dropped and stabbed Mug in the back, right through the heart. The man dropped dead at their feet.

“Flora, are you all right?” Ricard was at her side immediately.

“Aye,” she said, hugging him and crying. She looked over to her father, rushing over to him and falling down to her knees. “Father, don’t die. Please, don’t leave me.”

“It’s all right, Daughter,” said her father, trying to smile though the pain showed on his face. “I can die now, because I had a chance to meet you. You belong with Ricard. I . . . can tell . . . you love him. You . . . will be safe now . . . with . . . your husband.” His last breath left his body and his head fell to the side with his eyes still open.

“Nay! Don’t die. We’ll heal you. Wake up, Father.”

Ricard checked her father for a pulse and slowly shook his head. “He’s dead, Flora, I’m sorry.” With his hand he closed the man’s eyes.

“D-dead? Nay. He can’t be,” she said in denial. “I just found him. I can’t lose him now. Not like this.”

“He died protecting me, although I spent so much time wanting to kill his kind,” said Ricard, gathering her into his arms as she wept against his chest. “He was a brave man and he loved you very much.”

“Ricard!” shouted Nash as he and Ricard’s brothers came crashing through the thicket with their swords drawn.

“We heard the shouting and we’re here,” said Lang.

“We’re too late,” added Dayton, eyeing both the dead bodies.

“Thank you, men, but it is over,” said Ricard, helping Flora to her feet.

His brothers and Nash looked at him with wide eyes and lowered their weapons.

“Why are you . . . naked, Brother?” asked Lang.

“Don’t ask,” said Ricard, heading for his clothes, no longer caring what anyone thought of him. “See if the Druids have any shovels, because we’ve got two bodies to bury.”