Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 122, Nos. 3 & 4. Whole Nos. 745 & 746, September/October 2003

Sir Quentin and his fair Elaine strode out upon the sward

To steal a quiet moment from the celebrating horde.

The shadowed wood did beckon them.

The cooling breeze did sigh.

The lady caught a lusty gleam within her lordship’s eye.

But deep within the cozy copse a painful moan did sound

And soon the lovers noticed

Drops of red were sprinkled ’round.

The knight stretched out a gauntlet

And touched a scarlet smear.

“Forsooth, Elaine,” Sir Quentin said,

“Foul mischief happened here.

The archers in their joyous zeal have let their arrows fly.

Some forest creature mort’ly pierced

Has crawled away to die.

’Twas careless of those fellows.

They shall feel my rightful wrath.”

But quoth the fair Elaine to him,

“Please, Pete, I need a bath.

This corselet’s crushed my ribs and waist.

The headdress weighs a ton.

You can run around in sword and spurs,

But I’m not having fun.”

And turning on her slippered foot

From the dappled glade she ran,

Leaving her weekend warrior, a young dejected man.

“Pat, wait,” he cried and then he spied

A limp and bloody hand.

“Oh, help me,” said a wretched voice, “Please help me or I’ll die.”

But frightened of legalities, Pete let the victim lie.

He soon joined Pat, they drove on home

To air-conditioned clime.

A movie and hot popcorn would now occupy their time.

But far away bright moonlight shines upon the newly dead.

And gleaming still upon the grass

Are darkened drops of red.