Bernard the bee, and the Kingdom of Berocia

Bernard dropped to one knee before Queen Beatrice; his wings folded neatly behind him. He held his head down and his gaze fixed on the colorful and intricate weavings of the carpet.

“My Queen,” said Bernard, in a humble tone.

“Rise, Bernard,” the queen commanded with a wave of a hand. “What tidings do you bring from the South?” She then asked. The queen stood tall and erect upon the giant dais. Her face was stern and rigid, and atop her head, sitting slightly askew, she wore a heavily jeweled, golden crown. The black and gold robe that she wore shimmered in the warm candlelight as she moved to the edge of the platform.

Bernard slowly rose to his feet, his head and eyes gradually coming up to meet the queen’s black mirrored stare. His mouth was suddenly dry. He tried to swallow, but he could not seem to force down the lump in his throat.

Oh my word, he thought. I’ve gone and lost my voice. I can’t speak. He felt his face flush, and his palms began to sweat. I am going to faint, right here, before my Queen!

Queen Beatrice prudently made her way down the steps of the dais, long silken robes trailing down the steps after her. She stopped just before Bernard, towering over the young courier like a giant.

Bernard quickly wiped his hands on his yellow knickers and then clasped them tightly behind his back. He swallowed hard as a bit of squeak exited his mouth.

“Oh, dear,” the queen exclaimed. “I’ve gone and frightened you haven’t I?” She placed one of her many hands tenderly on his shoulder as another pressed to her lips. “Fear me not, sweet little Bernard. I do not kill my messengers due to sour information.” She placed one of her hands under Bernard’s chin and lightly lifted it so that his eyes looked directly into hers.

All sense of fear seemed to dissipate. Bernard could almost see into the Queen’s soul; he could feel her kindness, almost like a warm embrace. To his surprise, he licked his lips. He was stunned at how his mouth and throat no longer felt like he had eaten a handful of sand. The lump that grew in the middle of his throat simply vanished. Bernard stared with bewilderment at the vivid black eyes of the queen. He took deep exaggerated breaths through his nose, filling his lungs almost to the point of bursting. What is that delicious smell, he wondered? It’s like – It’s like… Home, he suddenly realized.

“Go on now, Bernard, tell me of the news from the south,” she pressed, her voice like a sweet melody to his ears.

Bernard licked his lips once again and began. “Well, um, my Queen - you see, it’s just that – well, the three most Southern hives I visited are no longer.”

Queen Beatrice arched an eyebrow and cocked her head slightly. “What do you mean: ‘They are no longer?” Her question had a slight sting to the tone.

“It is just that; you’re Majesty – the hives, they are gone.” A trickle of sweat beaded at the top of Bernard’s head. He fought mightily to keep from wiping it away, but it tickled something fierce.

The Queen noticed the perspiration building on Bernard’s forehead, and she let out a sigh. “Bernard?”

Yes, you’re Majesty?”

“For the sweet love of nectar, please wipe that sweat from your brow,” said the queen.

“Oh, um, yes.” Bernard used the sleeve of his black and yellow striped jacket and quickly wiped his forehead.

“That’s better, don’t you think?” Bernard nodded his head. “Now, if you would be so kind, Bernard, please tell me what it is that you mean.”

Bernard cleared his throat and began. “Well, your Majesty, for the last three years, I have traveled to the farthest reaches of Belang….”

The Queen interrupted, waving one of her hands frantically. “Yes, yes, I know all that. Come now, Bernard, tell me of your most recent trip – what of the three Southern hives?”

Bernard scratched an imaginary itch at the top of his head and then proceeded. “It is strange,” He paused, deep in thought. “I arrived at the Great White Oak in Belander first. I found it very odd… As I first entered the kingdom of Belander, there were no sentries, not even a single worker tending to the vast and colorful fields. It was not just that though – it was, and I remember clearly, as I sat atop a massive sunflower, there was no life: Not a butterfly, nor a cricket, or even a simple fly, nothing moved my Queen.”

Bernard paused for a breath, but quickly he continued with his story, “As I approached the Great White Oak, I suddenly felt this sensation of someone watching me. I sat motionless for the longest time, but - but, I saw nothing move. Normally when I get close to the Hive, the air bustles with all kinds of activity, but not on this day; all was quiet. Finally, I reached the Great White Oak and was stunned. The Belander hive was gone!”

Bernard fidgeted with the collar at his throat and loosened the top button of his jacket but continued straight away. “For a moment, I thought that perhaps I had traveled off course, but upon further inspection, I knew that I had not. I know the kingdom of Belander well, and I suppose I was hoping that I was in the wrong place. The hive was gone, no remnants of it ever having been. Your Majesty, it was the same in the cities Begarten and Behaven as well. I made my travel back here to Berocia as soon as possible. I am truly sorry, Your Majesty.” Bernard lowered his gaze to the colorful runners that ran the length of the throne room and waited for her reply.

“I see.” Queen Beatrice patted Bernard affectionately on the shoulder. “That will be all, for now, Bernard, you may take your leave.”

Bernard stood, then bent over at the waist, making such an elaborate and deep bow that the top of his head brushed the floor. “As you wish, Your Majesty,” he said, then spun on a heel and exited the throne room, escorted by two heavily armed guards wearing gleaming, golden armor.

The queen watched with a worried look on her face as the young courier departed from the throne room. As soon as the thick, golden doors banged shut, she began pacing the floor, her slippers making a scuffing sound on the delicate carpet. As she traipsed up and down the runners, she winked in and out of shadows; smooth, white pillars that lined the walls of the room cast giant shadows across the girth of the room. The oil lamps that hung from the walls hissed and sputtered as she marched by. She had become so deeply lost in thought that she at first did not hear her name called out.

“Your Majesty!” A heavy voice boomed and echoed off the smooth, white walls.

Startled, Queen Beatrice spun on a heel; putting a hand over her heart, she snapped, “What!”

“I – I am sorry, Your Highness; however, I did call your name three times,” a withered old bee appealed.

The queen approached the bee, shaking her head. “No – It is I who owes you an apology, Benson.” She took one of his hands, placed it between two of hers, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Benson furrowed his bushy, white eyebrows and gave the queen a quizzical look. “Do not be absurd – you are the….”

“Queen,” she finished for him. “Yes. That does not give me the right to treat such an old and trusted friend and advisor crudely. Forgive me, Benson.”

The Advisor was indeed very old and had deep-set wrinkles around his eyes. His once jet-black hair had turned white many, many years ago. He wore an extraordinary black silken robe littered with golden sunburst patterns; It sat loosely over his thin frame. His eyes no longer held the deep black luster they once had had; they were now glazed and murky. However, to the Queen, his smile had always stayed the same, and it seemed to cover his entire face. Queen Beatrice always found that smile comforting; Benson’s smile made her heart melt no matter her mood. She had known the old advisor since the day she could remember. Besides being her tutor growing up, he had also been her mother’s tutor and advisor and her grandmother’s.

“Nothing to forgive, my Queen,” Benson replied with a return squeeze of the hand. He brushed his fingers through his soft white beard and continued. “An extraordinary story that a young drone delivered – do you not think?”

“Strange? Yes. Tell me, Benson, do you believe his words to be true?”

Benson led the queen to the top of the dais as he replayed the courier’s story over in his mind. Beatrice sat on the throne’s plush, crushed red velvet seat; she asked Benson for an answer. He stroked his beard thoughtfully as he pondered the story. Finally, he opened his mouth to say something, then quickly closed it again, thinking further on the issue. The queen waited patiently as the room fell into an eerie silence. The only sound was that of faint breathing and the soft sputtering of the oil lamps.

After a long, awkward time, Benson finally broke the silence. “Yes, Your Majesty. I do believe the youngling spoke the truth. Nevertheless, we will need to send a party to verify these claims – not a large contingent, mind you, but a small party to gather intelligence. There has to be some evidence left behind – great hives such as Belander, Begarten, and Behaven do not just vanish into thin air.”

Queen Beatrice nodded her head that she understood. “The young courier Bernard will be in this party; he knows the kingdom well. After that, I will leave it to you, Benson, to form the rest of this faction.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.” Benson bowed slightly at the waist.

“Good. Now I must tend to my eggs. Please call forth the guards.”

Benson snapped his fingers and raised his voice, “The Queen wishes to tend to her young – please escort her.”

A contingent of soldiers wearing fancy golden armor with intricate designs poured into the throne room. Clang! Clang! Clang! The sound of heavy boots and metal echoed through the room as they marched up to the dais. Finally, the soldiers all went to one knee and bowed their heads before the queen.

“Your Highness,” the captain and the largest of the bees spoke. He still had his head bowed before the queen, and a plume of black and yellow feathers sprouted from atop his golden helm, swayed side to side as if dusting the air.

“Rise Captain Beaumont.” The Queen commanded.

The Captain rose to his feet and put a fist over his heart. Captain Beaumont fit the look of a knightly bee in the queen’s service. He was tall and robust, his jaw square and his face bold. The Captain stood head and shoulders over many of the other soldiers, but he was still only half the size of the queen.

“Captain, I wish for you to stay behind with Mister Benson.” The Queen noticed the confused and hurt look on the Captain’s face. She quickly continued. “Captain Beaumont, you have been in service to me for a long time – you are the most honest and loyal knight that I know.” Queen Beatrice gestured to Benson with one of her hands. “Mister Benson will inform you of your new duties to your queen – but know this Captain, you will be serving a much greater need to me and your kingdom in your new role.”

Captain Beaumont bowed at the waist and then saluted the queen with a fist to his chest. “As always, I will do as you wish, Your Majesty.”

The queen brushed a hand along Beaumont’s shoulder as she walked past him. “Thank you.” She stopped before the group of soldiers, all still kneeling with heads bowed. “Well, lead on.”

The Queen’s Guard all jumped up in unison, and placing hands on their chests, they began to encircle the queen in a defensive position. Then, they began marching, boots pounding and arms swaying epically, finally leading the queen out of the throne room. The doors closed behind them, sounding all too much like thunder.