A Continuing Tale

by Robert Pearson

  A Continuing Tale By Bob Pearson

  Basic Training

  Tallis reported for his first day of training in the Guards wearing a laurel wreath, his battle honour awarded by Queen Beetrix. The honour had been gained for his part in the battle for the hive against a hostile wasp band intent on the destruction of his colony.

  “Right you horrible little bee,” roared sergeant Striper, the drill instructor in charge of basic training for all recruits, “You can remove that gong straight away. There’ll be no time to rest on your laurels, or in your case admire ‘em my lad. This is the Guards and we do it by the book. Now get into line Mr Tallis and we’ll make a start.”

  Thus training began, with every hour taken up by marching, formation flying or fighting with rear mounted stingers. Striper was relentless in his pursuit of perfection. Each dawn the recruits were rudely tossed from their sleeping quarters and made to stand, shivering in line as they were hosed down in a communal shower, “A good guardsman is a clean guardsman,” the drill sergeant drummed the message into them.

  Tallis and his comrades soon discovered that any speck of dust on their gold and black uniforms, any hair out of place, or any smudge on their wings was instantly spotted and punished by the imposition of extra duties.

  The uniform proved fairly easy to keep clean for Tallis, his stinger, however, consisting as it did of a long bramble thorn (See “A Sting in the Tail) came in for minute criticism, “It’s not regulation is it young man?” barked the sergeant, “When you’re going in with the stinger, you only need a short stab, half an inch is enough. Anymore than that tends to get caught in an enemy’s body and, likely as not, someone will stab you as you struggle to pull it out.”

  Tallis was forced to agree with the experienced sergeant, his fellow recruits were much more nimble with their own natural weapons and seemed to carry out the manoeuvres with ease. This situation, however, only forced the young soldier to redouble his efforts. Within days he had more than mastered the skills of drilling, marksmanship and fighting as described in Striper’s beloved book.

  The youngster’s mastery of the complex military arts soon brought him the unwanted attentions of the young guard officers, the sons of well placed officials who themselves were undergoing their own course of training. Junior officers were required to prepare themselves for their future roles of leadership within the community, but they liked nothing better than to ridicule the efforts of the lowly born bees who were being put through their paces by the strident Striper.

  The most vocal amongst the elite officer cadets was Caspar, son of Commander Stinger of the Royal Guards. Caspar never lost a chance to taunt, criticise or scoff at the basic recruits. He and his cronies delighted in mocking the trainees, but were always careful never to do so in the presence of senior officers. Out of earshot of their own superiors they would sarcastically comment on any supposed clumsiness or shabby appearance. They themselves were always impeccably turned out, but they, of course, had servants who did much of the polishing, buffing and ironing of their tunics for them.

  Tallis was a particular target of the high born cadets. They resented the fact that a lowly born bee should be regarded as a hero and had been awarded a place in the Guards. They took little interest in training themselves, being assured of their own preferred status and advancement. They laughed every time Tallis incurred Striper’s displeasure and earned himself a rebuke.

  It was not just that Tallis had upset the sons of the social elite by his former heroic deeds, they also mocked him for his efforts with the other bees of the colony. Even after long hours on the parade ground, every evening Tallis took the trouble to visit the young workers of his former stamping ground.

  For their part, the workers regarded Tallis as their idol. He was one of their own who had “made it” and successfully moved from worker to soldier status. Such as it was, Tallis gave his former friends the benefit of his military experience. Adapting the training tasks he had undergone just hours before, he began the instruction of his peers. When the elite cadets learned of the extra training sessions they took further pleasure in scoffing at the clumsy efforts of the “Irregulars” as the force came to be called.

  Slowly, but surely, whilst ignoring the cruel remarks being aimed at him, Tallis took the volunteer force through its paces. With good humour and seemingly endless patience, he managed the training and was pleased with the progress the irregulars made. Whilst it was true they appeared to be a rough and ready force and with an oddment of assorted uniforms, never-the-less they were a force. The trainee guardsman knew from his own experience, a worker bee, defending his own hive, could be a formidable opponent.

  As the weeks past and Spring became Summer, graduation, at last grew nearer. Training sessions, already demanding, grew ever more intense. Tallis now excelled in all areas of soldiering. He was an outstanding fighter and an excellent marcher, but his greatest talent was in tactical awareness. He had the rare ability to look at an area of land and plan the best ambush sites or defensive positions. There was little wonder he won best recruit award and proudly carried the colours at the passing out parade.

  A Black Bee Day

  The first duty Tallis and the other new guardsmen had to prepare for was a sad one for the hive. It was to attend the Queen in the funeral service for old Bumbler, a veteran soldier and former commander of the worker bees. Bumbler had enjoyed a long and fruitful life of service to the colony, his loss was a sad day indeed for Queen Beetrix’s people

  Flags were hung at half mast, black arm bands were worn as a mark of respect and even the infants, whose joyful noise normally rang out from the nursery, were muted by the occasion.

  Caspar was tasked with supervising the funeral arrangements, but much of the actual work was delegated to his underlings. With an air of indifference the junior officer off loaded his responsibilities and heaped his own duties on an increasingly overworked labour force. The first task to consider was the digging of the grave.

  The arrogant youngster selected a site, but, because of his laziness had not tested the suitability of the earth. As a result, the clay soil, baked as it had been for weeks in the hot Spring sunshine, proved nearly impossible to dig through. The work gang, although through no lack of effort, made very little progress and their complaints of limited shovels and inadequate numbers of pickaxes were ignored.

  The lack of progress alarmed Tallis on his first visit to the cemetery. With the state funeral only a day away he knew the scratch in the earth, hewed out by the labourers, was not ready, nor was it a suitable resting place for such a distinguished dignitary. There was nothing for it he considered as he removed his tunic and began to dig with the workers.

  Inspired by this fine example, the work gang redoubled its efforts and the clods of earth began to fly from the hole as it grew deeper. With Tallis reminding the gang how they should honour their former commander, the grave was properly excavated within a couple of hours and Tallis dismissed his fellow workers from the site. He remained behind, deep within the steep sided grave, where he laid a shallow bed of stones as Bumbler’s final resting place.

  It was as Tallis was engaged on his sombre task that he heard the approaching voices of young officers. Clearly Caspar had finally come to inspect the work carried out and had brought with him his group of privileged friends. Not only that, the group seemed to be accompanied by a young girl. As he listened to their approach, Tallis could hear that the girl was being tormented and teased by youths.

  “Bebe, little Bebe, what have you got there?” came Caspar’s mocking rhyme, “Why it’s wild flowers to braid your hair!”

  “Let me go. Let me go. I’ve done you no harm,” replied the girl, “I simply want to pay my respec
ts before tomorrow’s formal ceremony.”

  “And you think a single bunch of flowers will be noticed amongst the huge floral tributes on order do you? Well standards have slipped in Royal circles, unless you are trying to cultivate the common touch early in your career.”

  From the overheard conversation, Tallis gathered the girl being taunted was Princess Bebe, sister to Britney, the heir to the throne. “Let go of me, you’re hurting!” Bebe complained.

  “Just a bit of fun, Highness, it’s not much to expect a Princess of the blood royal to have a sense of humour is it? Don’t forget we’ll be related when I marry your sister,” he added.

  “Brother in law or not, if you put your hands on me again ---”

  “You’ll what? Scream? Go ahead! There’s no one to hear you out here. What can you do to harm me?”

  “This!” replied the girl with spirit and promptly bit down on her tormentor’s wrist.

  Caspar jumped back with a yelp and began sucking at his wounded hand, “You’ll pay for that you little vixen,” he exclaimed. At his nod, his gang closed in on the lone girl and began to back her towards the open grave.

  This was the cue for Tallis to leap to the rescue and leap he did. Picking up a stone from the pit bed, he flew up over the startled officers and whilst all eyes were upturned, managed to pitch his missile straight at their leader, scoring a direct hit on his target.

  “Tallis,” roared the infuriated bully.

  “Let the girl go Caspar you’ve had your fun.” Tallis’s voice was calm and even.

  “Always the hero eh? Well the odds are in my favour I think. You wouldn’t dare strike a superior officer, that’s an offence.”

  “You are superior by accident of birth,” replied Bebe, “Tallis has made his own way, relying on his own ability alone, which is superior in every way to your own.”

  “I think not!” a sneering Caspar retorted, “It’s six to two in my favour, this day will go badly for the both of you.”

  Tallis knew he was in a difficult situation. Stepping between the Princess and her adversaries he bent double and from between his hind quarters wagged his sting towards them. Just as the nearest officer stepped forward Tallis lashed out and swept his opponent’s feet from under him. This move left his right side open to a counter strike and he felt the stinging stab lance into him. Limping back into position once more he defended the Princess.

  It was as the gang were about to rush the hopeless couple that their attack was suddenly halted by the appearance of Commander Stinger, Caspar’s father and commander of the Royal Guard. “You there,” he bellowed, unable to clearly identify the protagonists at this distance, “Return to your normal duties this instant.”

  Everyone knew that Stinger was a bee to be obeyed. Taking his friends with him, Caspar slinked off with a dire warning, “Don’t think this is finished, we’ll have a reckoning yet you and I!”

  Tallis ignored the threat and nursing his wound hunted round for his tunic. To his dismay he found it crumpled and dirty, beneath clods of earth thrown up from the grave site. “Oh no!” He exclaimed, “Look at this and I’m on duty tomorrow for the funeral. Striper will go mad at me for this.”

  “No he won’t, If you’ll allow me, I’ll clean and iron your jacket myself, you’ll never be able to see anything had been wrong.”

  “Your Highness, I can’t allow you to work on my behalf.”

  “Why not?” The Princess asked, “You work to serve the needs of the hive don’t you? Any way it seems the least I can do to repay you for your gallantry, but you’re wounded, you must get yourself to a doctor.”

  “It’s not that bad Highness” Tallis replied.

  “You know I was so scared when Caspar started his bullying.”

  “Just the same you bit him!”

  “Yes I did, didn’t I? that was the best bit,” and with that both youngsters began to laugh as they wandered off, Tallis towards the surgery and the Princess toward her quarters.

  Burial Plot

  Having been patched up by the doctor and spent a comfortable night, Tallis was up bright and early and was surprised to discover, despite the very early hour, that his uniform tunic, once crumpled and caked in mud, had already been delivered. Princess Bebe had been as good as her word, it was spotless and perfectly presented, Striper himself could not have found a fault in it.

  The young guardsman took his place accompanying the Queen as she addressed the gathered community. In the far corner of the cemetery and well out of hearing, Caspar, still bearing the scars of his encounter with Tallis, observed the ceremony. His thoughts were far removed from honouring Bumbler however. Concealed by the trees immediately behind the officer, Vespa, the mercenary hornet had been summoned to discuss a scheme so cunning and daring that it would mean a revolutionary change in the government of the hive. In short, Caspar was plotting rebellion.

  Vespa was well advised to keep out of sight. The width of a hornet’s head, the length of its body and its sheer size would have made it stand out. Hornets have a reputation as fanatic, fearless warriors, but they are not known to fight for a particular cause, rather they are fighters for the highest reward. Injury is accepted, as is death as part of their creed. Everyone knew hornets were good when fighting for them, even so no one completely trusted them.

  “So, let me get this straight,” Vespa said, “You wish to hire our services in the overthrow of your hive. The Queen is to die, as well as her youngest daughter. The regular guards are to be eliminated and half the workers are to become enslaved to our own colony. Meanwhile we allow you to take the remaining workers, seize the throne and marry Princess Britney?”

  “In a nutshell, yes!” Caspar replied. “That’s the plan, with your assistance I feel we can dispose of the present Royal Family and neatly replace it with a new line.”

  “The price for our service is too low.” responded the hornet, “We take half your workers, as agreed, in addition we want half your honey stores for the next five seasons.”

  “That’s too steep.” protested Caspar.

  “Surely not?” Vespa replied, “Think what you’re getting for the fee. Your own colony. A hive to rule and your very own dynasty.”

  “So be it!” Caspar decisively agreed, “The army are away foraging in three days time. I will meet you here, at dawn then and guide you and your band of raiders into the Royal quarters. There you can do your worst.”

  “At dawn, three days hence it is. Until then, my friend,” warned the huge insect, “Keep the plot to yourself” and with that flew off to disappear into the stump of a tree where its nest was situated.

  The Dawn of the Day

  An unexpected rain began to fall immediately after the funeral. The skies which had been clear for weeks turned grey and the dark clouds reflected the sombre mood of the colony. It seemed as if nature itself was mourning the loss of such a wonderful servant of the hive. The rain continued for two full days and then, as suddenly as it had begun the bad weather disappeared.

  Two evenings later, the treacherous Caspar approached the Royal quarters. His presence was not unusual, being a regular visitor to his fiancé. The purpose of his visit was to inform Britney of the destruction to come and to warn her to stay close to him throughout the slaughter which was to follow. “Britney the time has come to seize your destiny,” he said by way of explanation. “Stir yourself into action my dear. You’ve always said the colony would do better under your rule, well I’ve arranged to accelerate the process. Why wait for your mother to die and go through the process of swarming? (By which method a colony of bees forms around a new Queen) We could marry and seize control now!”

  Excited by the prospect and apparently unconcerned by the imminent death of her family, the Princess rushed around the room, in her haste she knocked over a vase which smashed with shattering noise, disturbing the sleeping Bebe in the next chamber. “You’ve struck your deal with the hornets then I gather” Britney probed.


  “Indeed! At dawn, in an hour’s time, I’m to lead them, across the West field, to your mother’s chambers, then turn them loose. You must stay close to me throughout, I wouldn’t want you mistaken in the slaughter.”

  High born Princess as she was, Bebe knew her own death warrant as well as her mother’s had been agreed to. She could think of no better plan than to quickly warn the Queen and inform Tallis of what she had overheard. Keeping to the servants’ passage ways, urgency lending speed to her movements, she set off on her quest.

  After warning Beetrix, Tallis was easily located, having just arrived for his regular duties. He was quickly told of the deadly peril about to overtake the Royal Family and forced himself to remain calm as he thought out the best defence for the hive in the short time he had available. “I need a squad of the guards” he said at last, “And I also need a message to be sent to the irregulars. They are to assemble at once in a “U” formation by the West field and await my arrival.”

  It was Bebe herself who rushed to gather Tallis’s irregular force from their quarters, passing on his instructions about the formation they were to adopt. Meanwhile Tallis had collected together a number of his friends from his drill training days and had flown off to a certain briar patch, remembered from a previous adventure (See “A Sting in the Tail“) Here the small force gathered up the needle sharp thorns and hastened back to the hive where they joined the army of the workers.