Princess Ruby of Tamworthia
Page 22
Chapter 7: Swarmed by Evil
The Mystical Forest, Skipton, Yorkshire, England, 1545.
"We need a plan," snapped Belver in frustration. It was mid-day in the mystical forest, and the Sun was very bright. Belver, Acron and Ranger were gathered on an old tree stump, in the center of Tamworthia. A Rabbit ventured into the grassy patch, close to the gathering. He was startled by the group and quickly turned, changing his course and fleeing into the undergrowth.
Belver snarled again in frustration. "How are we supposed to just walk into a Castle guarded by Humans? Ridiculous. I was going to tell that Wyvern...."
"I think it was me." Ranger snapped a retort that stopped Belver in mid sentence. "He singled me out by name to do this impossible task. The whole forest is depending on you!" Ranger shook his head despondingly. "I'm a small Wood Sprite! I'm not armed with fighting skills! Why me?"
Acron rested his wings by settling on the edge of the stump. "We have to think. We have to believe we can do this. The Wyvern believed in us, he's far wiser than any of us. We can do this!"
"Great, so how do we just walk into the Castle and talk with the Baron?" Belver curled his bottom lip in disgust. He was mad and could feel the anger welling up inside of him. The Snaggles would have to be on their toes tonight, for he was frustrated and the fighting Badger would make them pay.
Ranger propped his chin upon his outstretched arm, showing to the group that he was in deep thought. "Why didn't the Wyvern pick Acron?" Acron turned to look at Ranger. "Well, they can't see you, can they?"
"He chose you, so that's the end of it. Let's try to solve this." Acron seemed annoyed.
It was clear that the group could not settle on an elegant solution. The whole forest would be expecting a plan. The Sun had moved across the sky and was hiding behind a large Oak. Time was passing and their plan was still unformed. Belver's keen nose started to twitch; he shifted, casually moving onto his feet. He stumbled over to the Oak, as if he were in deep thought. He kept his snout to the ground and slowly approached the tree. In one swift movement he leapt for the trunk and scaled the tree. He fell to the ground landing on all fours. Belver had dislodged the intruder from the overhanging branch. He quickly stomped his paw and growled. The young Wood Sprite, Kormos, was pinned. He lay upon his back, with the angry Badger's paw, pinning his throat. He tried to wriggle free but the experienced Badger would not let his prey escape. "We seem to have a disrespectful eavesdropper."
Ranger leapt forward and approached the young Wood Sprite. "What were you doing? You insolent boy! Don't you realize how serious this is? Your lucky I'm here, for Belver has every right to tear you to pieces. Now go, and don't come back. I'll deal with you tonight, in the Crackle. Then your parents will deal with you. You'll not have a comfortable afternoon, thinking about your fate tonight. I'm so angry with you, I may throw you to the Snaggles. Go, before my patience runs out." Belver released the stunned Wood Sprite.
Kormos recovered his composure and decided to try to redeem himself. "I will go. I'm going to accept responsibility for my actions. I should not have been listening to your private meeting. I'll go now, but you'll never get to hear my plan, but it sounds like you're well on your way to developing a solid plan."
The young Wood Sprite turned and started to walk away. "Wait!" Acron flew across his path; his bow was drawn and the arrow was pointing straight at the young Wood Sprite's heart. Acron flexed the arrow before offering an ultimatum, "You can start talking now. This better be good."
The remainder of the afternoon was spent listening to Kormos, who articulated a plan that seemed to work. A diversion would occupy the guards; a clever way to sneak into the Castle and give the leaders a good shot at finding the Baron. They were starting to believe, when their conversation was interrupted again.
Acron was tuned to a specific sound. Every Fairy would hear this sound. Each Fairy carried a horn, carved from the hard shell of an acorn. It was presented to each Fairy on their tenth birthday, as a rite of passage. The horn was made to sound a certain way. It was only to be used in dire circumstances; a distress call. The horn would signal to the other Fairies that immediate assistance was required. The horn vibrated at a certain frequency. The whispering trees would recognize the sound and ensure that the whole forest could hear it. The sound traveled through the trees like a wave across the water. It could be traced to its origin, so the Fairies would know where the assistance was required.
A faint sound could be heard at first. Gradually the sound intensified and the trees started to quiver and shake. The whispering trees shook and their trunks started to creak, making a familiar sound. Acron leapt into the air, his wings fluttering wildly. "The Fairy call, we're being attacked, I have to go." Acron was gone, dashing to the source of the sound.
Acron pumped his wings hard; Fairies from all parts of the forest joined him. Armies of Fairies swooping through the trees converging on the source of the distress call. The whispering trees guided the Fairies through the forest, helping them arrive quickly. When Acron arrived at the scene he'd collected over three hundred Fairies in the cry for assistance. He charged into an area of the forest called Artesia, normally a lush, peaceful place. Fairies darted between the trees and flew in erratic patterns. Fairies littered the floor, writhing in agony. Acron struggled to see the threat; he scanned for beasts, men or spirits. A flash of color alerted him to the enemy. Yellow and black blurs streaked across the sky. A Fairy fell from the sky screaming in pain with a large stinger embedded deep within his side.
The Fairy, Erut, was a fierce fighter, he shouted to Acron and his approaching army. "Bees, a swarm of Bees are attacking us, watch out for the stingers; keep behind them. Use your arrows, from behind!"
A large Bee darted towards Acron, his abdomen curled and his stinger pointed right at his chest. Acron flapped his wings furiously and swooped to his left. He managed to draw his bow, load an arrow, and release in one swift movement. The arrow flew true, piercing the yellow stripe of the oncoming Bee. The Bee fell to the ground, to join the other casualties. Battle weary Fairies swooped to the floor to retrieve spent arrows. The oncoming rush of Fairies was a welcome sight for those already engaged in the battle. The Fairies created a circular perimeter. They'd trapped the Bees within.
Arrows flew with deadly accuracy. The Bees were ferocious, fighting to the last Bee. Why were they so upset? What had the Fairies done to provoke such a reaction? Bees are well known for being social, co-operative types. They work together and help the forest with pollination. Occasionally they feel aggrieved. In the past, the head soldier Bee would call for an audience with the forest elders. He would state the Queen Bee's case and ask for a peaceful resolution. Bees don't complain often. When they do complain, the elders act quickly and usually rule in their favor. The Bees never abuse this privilege. It's well known that Bees will fight to the death, but they only do this to protect their hive and their Queen. Any animal fights to protect their home and family. You wouldn't expect less.
The aerial battle was fierce. The Bee's were faster than the Fairies, but they needed to maneuver to use their stingers. The Fairies were armed with arrows and had the ability to reload. A Bee could manage to sting a Fairy, but it left them defenseless and spent. Rather than retreating, the unarmed Bees would try to ram the Fairies, knocking them out of the sky. It was clear; they were fighting to the death. The battle lasted about an hour, with many casualties. The forest floor was a sea of yellow and black. The Fairies closed in, making the perimeter smaller. The last few remaining Bees fought valiantly. As the battle drew to a close, some Fairies started to cheer, in victorious chants. It didn't last long, as their chants were drowned out by the sound of a deafening hum. Approaching the battle weary Fairies was another wave of black and yellow. The approaching Bees looked different. The Fairies had defeated the worker Bees, docile and normally cordial. What lay before them were the elite guard. These Bees were slimmer, faster and trained to fight. The soldier Bees that approached were more agile, and trained in b
attle techniques. The energy visibly drained from the battle weary Fairies. Waves of the elite fighting Bees swarmed into the area. The trees shook their warnings, but it was too late. The slim, fast, fighting Bees, had larger stingers and looked menacing.
Acron could see the confidence ebbing away from his valiant troops. "Steady men," he shouted. As the Fairies turned to face their fate, they heard a beautiful sound. It was a horn, but not just any horn. This was the battle horn of the Northrop region of the forest. Northrop was a hostile region of the forest; an independent region that normally kept out of the collective. The whispering trees had conveyed the urgency, taking note of the approaching army. The trees had called for reinforcements and the fighting force from Northrop had answered the call.
The Northrop Fairies lined up to one side of the approaching Bees. "Look," shouted one of the Fairies, pointing to the other side of the approaching swarm. The trees shook as an army of Fairies, bearing the red stripe of the Brant section, appeared. The Brant Fairies had traveled from the furthest section of the forest. Having this many Fairies, from different sections, would normally have resulted in a battle. The trees had convinced the leaders to bury their differences and unite, to face a common enemy. Each Brant Fairy had a red stripe painted across their cheeks. A mixture of berry juice and tree gum composed the traditional war paint.
They lined up quickly, armed with deadly blow-pipes. The Bees were funneled through the flanking Fairies, surrounded by archers and blow-pipes. As the Bees entered the open space, arrows and darts rained into them. The helpless Bees fell to the forest floor, mortally wounded. It was carnage, and the military operation, organized by the trees, was clinically executed. The leader of the Bees was a battle-hardened warrior. A poisonous dart had wounded him. His drive and determination had spurred him onwards, towards his enemy. He flew into the Fairies with reckless abandon. Acron raised his bow, with one swift movement; the arrow pierced the brave Bee, causing him to spiral downwards to the forest floor. He joined his brave comrades as the last casualty. The battle was over. Acron tipped his hat to the leader of the Brant and Northrop clans. The Fairies punched the air and shouted cries of victory. The cheers could be heard throughout the forest. The trees shook furiously, joining in with their celebrations.
Bees were not evil creatures; why had they turned? The trees knew. The Witch had cast a spell, turning the Bees hostile. Her power was growing and the inhabitants of the forest were fearful. It was one thing to fight the underworld beasts, but to fight each other, was another disturbing twist. She now had the power to turn friends and allies into enemies. The Bees had been innocent victims; their fate had been decided, the moment the Witch realized that Bees could see Fairies. The Witch had tried to use the Bees to eradicate the Fairies. She wouldn't stop until the mystical creatures were gone forever.
The cheers were broken by the deafening sound of horns. As quickly as the Fairies had appeared, they turned and disappeared into the woods. Acron wanted to thank the Fairies, but he knew his nodded acknowledgement, would be his final gesture of thanks. The Tamworth clan realized they were in debt. They would gratefully reciprocate, should the trees summon their help, to defend the Brant and Northrop clans. In his heart, he knew; they would have died trying to fight the Bee soldiers alone.
The whispering trees had saved the day. The caretakers of the forest knew the Witch was dangerous and destructive. She would conspire with the Black Fox and cast more spells, challenging the delicate balance of the forest. She needed to be stopped, before this escalated and got worse.
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