Page 61 of May Queen: May Day

“I wouldn’t go, my lord,” said Nash, peeking out from behind Dayton. “After all, it is the eve of Beltane and the Druids might be having one of their pagan rituals. It could be dangerous.”

“What?” asked Ricard, having lost track of the date. “Are you saying tomorrow is the first of May?”

“That’s right,” answered Nash.

“Did you forget you sent us to collect that maple . . . I mean Maypole?” said Lang, raising the bottle of whisky to his lips once again.

“Dayton, Lang, Nash, we’re going to the woods and we’re going now,” Ricard told them.

“Not this again, Brother,” whined Lang.

“I thought we decided we’ll hunt down the pagans and kill them in the morning,” said Dayton with a roll of his eyes. “Let’s all get some sleep.”

“Nay, you don’t understand,” Ricard tried to explain. “There is only one Druid that is bad and needs to die after all. I don’t need to kill them all, just Mug. I need to tell Flora that I’m not going to harm her father.”

“Can’t you tell her in the morning?” asked Lang with a yawn.

“Nay! She’s my wife and she’s in danger as long as Mug lives. I am going to the forest with or without you.”

Lang and Dayton exchanged glances and then Dayton pushed Ricard to the floor. Nash, Dayton, and Lang ran out of the room and closed the door behind them.

“That’s not funny! I’ll have all your heads,” Ricard shouted, trying to get to his feet and almost falling over from the amount of alcohol he’d consumed. He heard a key turning in the lock and then the guard saying something to his brothers.

“He just needs to sleep it off. Don’t worry, we’ll make sure he knows this wasn’t your idea,” Dayton told the guard.

“Nay!” Ricard ran to the door and tried to open it but it was locked. “Open this door at once,” he commanded.

“Do you think we should let him out?” came Nash’s muffled voice from the other side of the door.

“You even attempt it and you’ll find yourself locked in there with him,” said Dayton.

“Open the door,” Ricard yelled, banging his fists against it.

“Nightie night,” said Lang in a singsong voice, followed by a belch and a laugh as their footsteps resounded down the corridor.

“I’ll kill you fools along with the Druids,” he shouted, but his threat fell on deaf ears. Ricard helplessly rested his head against the door feeling trapped and all alone. Then he realized, this must have been exactly how Flora felt when he’d locked her inside the room. Ricard feared for Flora’s life while she feared for her father’s.

He turned, eyeing the moonlight that spilled in the window and covered the bed. Slowly walking forward, he ran his hands over the makeshift rope and looked out the window to the ground far below.

He already felt dizzy from the whisky, but if he was going to protect Flora, he had no other choice. He lifted one leg over the sill and quickly blessed himself before he grabbed on to the bed sheets. Then he started to lower himself down, praying to God that he wouldn’t fall and break his neck.