Page 8 of May Queen: May Day

Flora swallowed forcefully. She had to be more careful or she’d risk exposing the fact to him that she had Druid blood running through her veins. Doing her best to keep her emotions steady, she shrugged her shoulders. “Nothing, really, other than what my uncle told me about them. He was always telling me stories.”

“I see.” He didn’t really sound as if he believed her, but she hoped he did. She didn’t want him to ever find out the stories she’d heard were all from her dying mother. “Then, I’d best tell you,” he said, sounding very serious. “These demons are desecrating the king’s lands with their devil-worshipping rituals.”

“Oh, I don’t think they worship the devil at all,” she said. “As a matter of fact, I’ve heard they are more like . . . fairies of the earth. They believe in honoring all life and especially nature.”

“If you think that, then you are a fool,” he spat. “I have even heard that they practice human sacrifice.”

This made her so angry that she could barely keep from crying out. “Sir Ricard, I didn’t think a man as brilliant as you would listen to idle gossip.”

“It isn’t gossip. I was told this, by other knights and titled men. It is said that the king himself proclaimed these pagans as naught but a hindrance. Once I find them, I assure you they will all be killed and never litter these forests with their presence again.”

“Killed?” she cried, feeling her stomach clench.

“I’ve heard the stories, and they can’t be ignored,” he told her.

“I see.” She sat higher in the saddle and raised her chin. “Then I suppose the word of knights and even the king himself is something that is considered truth and cannot be discarded?”

“Exactly,” he said with a satisfied smile as if he thought she were believing any of these wretched lies.

“Then, I suppose I had better heed the word I’ve heard from knights and nobles as well.”

“That’s right, you should.” They rode toward the drawbridge and curiosity finally got the best of him. “What is it you’ve heard, my lady?”

“Actually, it was talk about you, Sir Ricard.”

“Me?” he asked in surprise, seeming very concerned. “What about me?”

“I heard you were naught but a simpering knave who doesn’t have a backbone to stand up for what he believes.” She held her breath, waiting for his explosion. She hadn’t heard this at all. The only thing she’d heard was from his babbling squire last night about how Lord Ricard cared too much about what others thought of him. He wanted to look and act his best in front of other nobles at all times.

“That’s not true!” he spat.

“It’s said that Sir Ricard Wellington is weak and will never be a courageous knight and be able to lead men into battle.”

“Who said that? Was it your uncle? I already am a courageous knight. I’ve fought protecting the king many times on the battlefield.”

“I’ve also heard that you care too much about what others think of you and that is your weakness.”

“I have no weaknesses,” he growled. “Now, tell me what else you’ve heard and don’t leave anything out.”

“Oh, I don’t like to gossip,” she said, looking down as she rode, brushing invisible lint from her gown. “I really didn’t believe for one minute that the man I’m betrothed to marry isn’t a warrior at all, but a man so gentle that he is rumored to have been raised by women.” His teeth clenched and his jaw ticked in aggravation. Flora chuckled inwardly, knowing that her ploy to stop him from talking about the Druids had worked. Now she just needed to do one more thing to drive her point home.

“Tell me everything,” he growled. “I want to know.”

“Sir Ricard, before today, I wouldn’t have believed the rumors that you don’t have a brain in your head, or the courage to make your own decisions. I never would have thought that you, the mighty knight who bravely hunts boars and can wield a sword and win a joust, is naught but a poppet of the king. But now, you’ve made it clear to me that I should never doubt the word of knights, nobles, and kings again. They always speak the truth. Isn’t that right?”

“Nay, these men know naught of what they speak and I don’t want you to ever repeat what you just told me. Do you hear me?”

“I’m confused,” she said with a cocky smile. “Then you mean to tell me that, possibly, even nobles can make mistakes? So what I’ve heard isn’t really the truth?”

“Aye, that’s right,” he said, kicking his heels into the sides of his horse and charging away from her at breakneck speed.

Flora smiled and followed behind him slowly, feeling like the first step of her plan was in process. Although she’d made up everything she’d just told him, only to prove a point, one thing she said seemed to hold true. Sir Ricard Wellington truly did care too much about what the nobles, knights, and even the king thought about him. His foolish pride was toxic and she was sure it would be his downfall in the end. In the meantime, she decided, she would use this to her advantage. Sir Ricard would help her find her father even if he didn’t know he was naught but a pawn in her scheme.