The Honey Hunters by uma_sky

At last! The much-awaited summer has arrived, and no longer will my fellow mates and I be subjected to the confines of our meshed hive, and, god forbid, our stash of stale honey. Once the order is given, I whiz out of the little entrance, the scents of a glorious summer morning seducing my senses blind.

Ah, the harsh winter was certainly worth waiting through! Warm wind ripples my dappled fur, and my wings are thrilled by the sensuous freedom. When I see rows upon rows of colorful flowers dotting the field entrancingly, I do not waste a meagre moment. I pounce on them, determined to bring back the largest share of powdered nectar and make the Queen proud!

Fresh honey, it's certainly an occasion to celebrate!

Just as I settle down on the soft textured nectar of a brilliant sunflower, a voice interrupts my tranquil elate. "Amelia! Oh, Amelia!" a male voice buzzes my name, and the source of the voice settles down beside me triumphantly.

I suppress a sigh, and not because I am exasperated. Hector is one of the most handsome bees around, and several have their eyes set on him, but he's always dedicated his persistent, guileless attention to me. Of course, it flatters me, but hey, a bee needs her time under the sun. Without a dogged male bee pursuing her.

"Brilliant summer day, isn't it?" he inquires, lowering his body into the pollen. He casts a glance at me, his black eyes glinting with mischief. "Wanna share some nectar?"

I gasp; how dare he? Sharing nectar is an intimate ritual binding a male and female bee together for life, blessed by the Queen and all the elders. How dare he insinuate that I would succumb to such ridiculous promises before I become of age before I earn permission and regard?

"You shouldn't be talking like that!" I exclaimed, flustered and caught aback. "If anyone were to hear us, we might be banished!"

I shiver as the tales of greedy and selfish bees race through my mind yet again. Sharing nectar against the Queen's wishes, consuming nectar before the hive was nourished and the Queen well-fed, injuring one of your own kinsmen... Forbidden, terrible sins! They mustn't be forgotten, and definitely not forgiven!

The bees are then given the worst punishment one could conquer in the realm of mind; they were banished! Banished, I say, banished from the hive, left to wander about all day and all night, with no purpose or house to call your own. I cannot even imagine what that would be like, and I sincerely hope I never will.

I'm a good little bee; I follow the rules and respect my elders, and most of all, do not succumb to evil little things like Hector.

He grins cheekily at me. "Amelia, oh, Amelia. How I long to lick up this delicious nectar with you beside me, just as we are now. Well, almost as we are now. I'd imagine us a bit closer, and –"

A flush creeps up my chubby face, and I quickly silence him with a heated, "Shush!" Glancing around furiously for any eavesdropping bees, I hiss, "There are so many flowers in this field! Go find another one to ruin with your unhoney-like presence!"

"My, my! Don't be so feisty, little Amelia! I understand your fear, don't worry. When you're fifty days old, I'll whisk you away on our paradise honeymoon! And we'll share nectar all day long!"

My yellow face turns red in embarrassment, my heart racing in my thorax. Oh, this bee and all the things he did to me!

"We'll see when the day comes," I say slyly, just as he prepares for take-off.

He stops, his eyes round, his manly bee jaw dropping as he viewed my countenance. And in all honesty, his astonishment is well due, since I've never peeped a word about the day I finally turn fifty days old, constantly subduing all Hector's efforts insouciantly.

"Tell me, Amelia, is that a pinky – yellowy-promise?" he asks, his teasing demeanour struck by an earnest longing, flippancy struck by shock. "Are you serious to me, dear Amelia?"

I look down shyly, my voice losing words. How am I to tell him, how am I to reveal my innermost dignified besotted feelings, when I do not know whether I will be granted permission? And most of all, when I am still underage! I should not even be considering his question, I tell myself sternly.

He's a good bee, but I must be patient. Self-control, I preach. Like my mamma always tells me, if you sit on the wrong flower, just rub it off and go find another one!

Wait... That doesn't sound right.

My thoughts are interrupted when another bee intrudes our congress, perching on the brown flower bed and eyeing us both sullenly. "Queen's orders," she buzzes nasally, her tone flat and sarcastic. "Everyone reports back to the hive now. Emergency."

"Oh, no!" I gasp, bringing my forelegs to the sides of my face in shock. Memories leak into my mind, the dark, painful days; the daunting misery. Oh, not all over again! "It's just the beginning of summer, surely they can't..."

Gretchen, the messenger bee, nods grimly, telling us not-so politely to get our furry abdomens back to the hive right away, and flights to spread the heart-wrenching news.

Previous conversation well-forgotten, I exchange a horrified glance with Hector. And then we're off to the hive, to save our Queen and our honey from the vilest of villains, the most ruthless of thieves, the most wicked of enemies. The most brutal foe, the most horrid intruder.

The Honey Hunters.

***

I swoop into the tiny entrance of the hive, Hector by my side, only to find the nest in a state of catastrophe. Bees are swarming here and there, voices shouting hurried commands, frenzied battalions of bees taking positions wherever there is unoccupied space.

"Amelia, Hector, looks like you two finally found your way back!" bellows one of the commanding bees. "We need more people on the front line! Take your positions; arm yourselves well, don't be afraid to sting! A sacrifice in the name of the Queen will never be forgotten!"

Several bees are shouting that, and though my heart thuds fearfully, I know that it is true. If it comes down to such a threadbare circumstance, I solemnly swear that I will not be afraid to sting, though with my poison my life shall also part. We all know that; a sting is a bee's last action, and it must always be in favor of the good.

Hector senses my anguish, and turns to me, a reassuring smile on his face. "Amelia, my dear Amelia, you need not be afraid! After all, Hector the hero is still alive! Nothing can happen as long as I'm still here for my Queen!"

His boisterous egotistical remarks never fail to bring a smile to my mouth, even in the worst of situations.

"Go! Go to the honey comb, take defense! I shall take front line, and ward off all the enemies with the mere flick of my finger – erm, foreleg! Yes, my foreleg shall send the Hunters running in fear!"

I shake my head adamantly. "I will stand front line too! My foreleg is just as equipped as yours –"

I am cut off by a majestic voice, a voice that is heard over all the shouts and bellows of panicking bees, a voice that can only belong to our flawless Queen. She floats down, her ethereal presence blanketing us with a sense of peace.

"Listen, my fellow bees! Every year, the evil Honey Hunters come, taking away what does not belong to them, and every year, we try to stop them! In the end, we do not have our honey, and the brutal war leaves hundred massacred. It shan't happen this time; I will not allow all your lives to be sacrificed for mine!"

Protests ring into the air, interrupting her eloquent speech. After a moment of patient endurance, she raised her hand, eh, foreleg, and silences the restless crowd.

"I ask you all now to retreat! We shall not lose any more fellow bees. Let them take the honey; summer has just arrived, we will make more! Do not fear the inevitable, my bees."

"Retreat?" bellows a male bee indignantly, and several other proud bees follow his example.

I sigh. Males. So that's why we have a Queen bee and not a King bee.

Their protests are put down swiftly; the Queen's words are commands, and none would dare to disobey.

Hector and I retreat to one of the corners of the hive, near the entrance. That's when I hear them; the voices of the Honey Hunters, their loud, rambunctious laughter and obscene words.

"Tell me 'gain what we comin' here fo' so early in the season?"

"Remember what ol' Henry told us t'day? We gon' start a bee farm!"

"What good's a bee farm gon' do? I'd like a rum farm! Ya get the booze and the farm, spend all summer lock'd uppin dere!"

"Ya, and what'd we do fer food, mate? We gotta make cash, at least, that's what Henry told mey!"

"So what'd we c'mere fer?"

"Ya never listen to 'Enry when he tellin' us what to do - we gon' take a female bee and make 'er Queen, make a whole nest of those swarmy little things."

"Egh, what'd we do that fer?"

"Fer their honey. Now Jimmy, wear these gloves and put yer hand in the hive. Take a bee out, an' if yer lucky, it'd be a female. Then we can be on our way; Henry promised wine this afternoon."

"Yer always makin' me do the dirty work!"

A large, white hand enters the hive, and I glance at Hector beside me in fear. Something about their words, though I couldn't understand most of it, told me that they weren't here for honey. Trembles rock my body, but not even Hector dares to move, with the entrance so near.

The hand gropes around the hive, clearly not searching for honey. Somehow, all the evil honey hunters know where our stash of honey is kept, and this hand is not anywhere near there. It is closer to where all us bees are clustered. It's awful! Even in our retreat, they insist on massacre!

I close my eyes, shivering with anticipation and fear. When I open them again, the hand is closer to me than ever before. In fact, it is right in front of me!

Oh, no! Am I the victim of this vindictive Hunter?

I should step forward, sting him maybe, but fear shackles me.

"They're all hiding! I can't even find one o' them!"

The finger of the hand touches me, and I flinch, fear shuddering up and down my body. I send my prayers up to the bee god, hoping for a better future. I glance lastly at the Queen, asking for her permission to sting this brute, but she shakes her head.

"They won't kill you," she buzzes softly. "I have seen them before, been through it all; do not fear, little one."

"I found one!" shouts the Hunter. "Lemme just take 'er out."

"No!" Hector shouts beside me, stepping forward. "I'm sorry, my Queen, but the safety of any bee in this hive is more valuable than that! I cannot let her be taken away, by a Hunter or by the Queen's will! She belongs in this hive, beside us all!"

Fingers begin to curl around my body, and I look frantically at Hector, tears blurring my vision. Though I would obey the Queen's orders blindly, I still can't find it in myself to leave behind this hive. It's my home, with my family inside, where my Queen resides. Where I see a future, with Hector by my side, serving the hive with all my heart. And to leave it all, just like that!

Hector swivels around, and makes a beeline toward the Hunter's fingers; his stinger pointed venomously outwards. Through my blurred vision, it takes a moment for it to register.

"No! Hector, no!" I shout, but it is too late.

His stinger cuts straight through the plastic-y white material wrapped around the finger, piercing the skin with unrivalled strength. A yelp sounds from the Hunter outside, and his hand is drawn back.

"'EY! The gloves are useless, the stupid bee stung me!"

"Let's get outta here, Jimmy, 'fore they sting us both to pieces! This hive's very evil, we better go find 'nother one so we get our wine – come, don't worry, we won't come back 'ere."

I fall onto my knees, err, hindlegs, and cradle Hectors face on my abdomen.

"Oh, Hector, what have you done?" I cry, my tears dropping onto his dull face.

He smiles at me. "Amelia, tell me, did I kill them? Did I kill the Hunter?"

I nod, frantically, as several bees crowd around us. "Yes, Hector, yes you did. You were such a brave bee. Your sacrifice won't be forgotten."

The Queen comes into view, a sad smile on her face. "What she says is true. Your sacrifice will forever be bestowed in all our hearts. Thank you, soldier Hector, for saving the hive today."

He tries to respond, but she shakes her head, silencing his struggle to speak. The Queen turns and leaves, dismissing the bees from crowding over their fallen mate. But I cannot move, cannot move from Hector's dying eyes.

It's only the two of us soon, crouched at the entrance of the hive. Hector musters a grin, lighting up my world even in the darkest of moments. I was wrong; searching outside for summer and suns during the treacherous winter. It was right here, right beside me.

"So, Amelia," he says, licking his lips, "What d'ya say? Wanna share some nectar?"

My summer.

***