Page 11 of May Queen: May Day

“I see.” He reached out and touched her head and she winced. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches, but we’ll leave that up to the healer. Tell me, Flora.” He stepped back and rinsed his hands in a bowl of water next to the bed. “Who was it that killed the boar? Was there someone in the woods with you?”

Flora was aboutto tell him that the Druids helped her, but bit her tongue instead. Ricard had called them pagans and vowed to kill each and every one of them. She didn’t want him harming a hair on their heads.

“I – I killed the boar,” she lied, not able to look at him when she said it.

Ricard was drying his hands on a cloth and stopped. His head turned and his brows arched in amusement. “You killed it?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Yes. I killed it to save my life.”

“I see.”

“My lord, the healer is here,” came Nash’s voice from the door. “I found her riding into the castle as I went to look for her.”

Flora looked up and gasped when she saw the same woman she’d met in the forest. Biting the side of her cheek, she tried to remain quiet.

“What is it, my betrothed?” Ricard cocked his head and studied her curiously. “Is something wrong?”

“Nay,” she said, her hand going to her head. “It’s just that my wound is smarting, my lord.”

“Rosemunda will take a look at it for you.” Ricard nodded to the healer woman, allowing her to enter. She hesitated, looking the other way. “Well, what is it, healer? We have an injured woman here and don’t have all day.”

“Aye, my lord,” said the woman, entering the room and heading over to Flora. She put her medicine pouch on the bed and started to inspect Flora’s wound. “She shouldn’t need stitching, my lord. I will clean up her wound and apply a poultice to stop the bleeding.”

“Thank you, Rosemunda,” said Ricard. “Your herbs and poultices have always helped my men heal quickly. I trust your judgment.”

“My lord,” said Nash. “Your brothers are waiting for you in the great hall. They’ve got the dagger that was used to kill the boar and they think it might belong to one of those troublesome Druids.”

Ricard’s head snapped up, and he turned slowly to peruse Flora. “Funny that they should think it’s a Druid’s dagger when Lady Flora told me she was the one who killed the boar.”

“Her?” Nash chuckled. “Mayhap she’s feeling confused from hitting her head. I highly doubt a lady could kill an attacking boar by thrusting a dagger through its skull.”

“I find that rather suspicious, too,” he answered in a low voice.

Flora knew that she had to change her story quickly. If her husband-to-be and his men didn’t trust her, they would never let her out of their sight again.

“I – I guess I’m confused,” she told them. “I’m also very dizzy.” She held on to the healer’s arm for effect. “Now that I think about it, someone else could have been there that killed the boar. I am too shaken right now to remember.”

“Then you’d better get some rest,” said Ricard, heading to the door. “Healer, I’d like you to stay with her for the night.”

“My lord, you know my family is in the village,” said the woman. “I have children who need me.”

“Don’t you have a husband?”

“I do.”

“Then he can watch your children tonight. I’ll have a messenger take the message to your hut. Where exactly is it?”

“There’s no need for that, my lord.” The healer wrung out a rag in the water and started to cleanse Flora’s wound. “I’m sure my husband will know that I’m here.”

“All right then. I’ll be back later to see how she’s faring. Lady Flora, I’ll have your meals brought to you.”

“There’s no need for that,” Flora protested, not wanting to feel like a prisoner in the castle.

“I insist. I won’t let you out of your chamber again until I know you are healed and have your wits about you.”

“I assure you, I am of sound mind.”

Ricard and his squire exchanged glances that made her believe they didn’t agree. “We will talk more about your behavior in the forest later,” he told her. “I cannot have a wife who disobeys me and is in the habit of mindlessly taking off into the forest without an escort, simply because she is . . . curious.”