The Swarm

It was a cool spring morning. A shroud of mist, stretching over the high hills, seemed as a bluish veil in the light of the barely glowing dawn. A heavy rain had fallen the previous night, and all the surrounding nature breathed with moisture. The first birds had already awoken, greeting the morning with joyful trills, and soon after them the sun finally rose. Its golden rays, like a river bursting its banks, poured into the valley, and the rain-drenched hills lit up in a sea of sparkling jewels, as if a stormy ocean of gems stretched to the horizon.

A gray ribbon of an old Roman road wound through the hills. Here and there, tufts of young grass sprouted between the stones, but even after fifteen hundred years, nature had not been able to swallow this masterpiece of ancient engineering. In times of it’s youth the road connected an important administrative center to a Roman fort surrounded by stone walls on the border with Scotland. The ancient fortress had survived and even expanded since then, and a small town had grown up around the former camp.

Some of the few trade routes linking Scotland and England had crossed these lands, and this naturally left a mark upon the town, although far greater impact obviously was made by the eternal rivalry between these kingdoms. In the center of the town, enclosed by old walls, there was a marketplace, around which stood many stone houses, the main building of the fort had been converted into the town hall. Outside the town walls simple wooden farmhouses dotted the countryside, surrounded by small plots of arable land and endless pastures.

The local residents had already been awake for some time, and life in the town was bustling. The liveliest spot, just as it ought to be, was the local pub. A group of traders from the north had recently arrived, enjoying a break before continuing their journey. Cool ale sparkled in the mugs, hot steaks and fried sausages steamed on the plates, and the tavern was abuzz with the voices of travelers, discussing business and exchanging stories of their adventures.

– Who’s that, anyway? – one of the patrons asked.

But let us not get sidetracked. All of this created a very cozy atmosphere, enhanced by the tavern’s interior: though the building wasn’t new, it was well-maintained. It was clean, bright enough, and the furniture was well-kept. The tavern’s staff delivered orders and refilled drinks without unnecessary delays or reminders. The smell of roasted meat that filled the well-heated room could awaken a ravenous appetite in anyone who entered from the cool street after a long journey.

– Doesn’t seem like a local. Some odd fellow from distant lands?

The man they were discussing had indeed come from far away, though it was difficult to tell exactly where from. Clad in knightly armor that fully covered his body, he carried a sheathed two-handed sword over his shoulder. His armor featured both the sturdy, near-impenetrable style of Milanese design, and the more flexible Gothic style, allowing for greater freedom of movement. His surcoat was entirely green with a white tower – an unfamiliar heraldic symbol, if known to anyone at all; his helmet was crowned with purple and blue feathers.

The knight found a seat by the window, ordered roast beef with beans and onions, and wine. Then he sat back, leaning against the wall, and drifted into a light doze, reminiscing about his travels and dreaming of future exploits.

Scenes from his homeland passed by before his eyes: sun-drenched wheat fields stretching to the horizon, endless vineyards, and towering cliffs by the sea. Though he missed home, the allure of distant lands was irresistible, and over the years he had seen many places. He had traveled throughout Europe, from the sun-baked fields of Sicily with its rich, fertile lands, to the snowy realms of Scandinavia with its majestic fjords, from the ancient forests of the Germanic lands, which were keeping their dark secrets, to the vast, mighty ocean on the western shores of Iberia. During his journeys, he had often risked his life to protect the downtrodden and punish the wicked. Common folk admired him, composing songs about his deeds, while wealthy nobles offered him positions at their courts, hoping to secure the loyalty of this unparalleled warrior. But the road always called him forward, toward the unknown and in search of new adventures. Finally, his travels had brought him to the border between England and Scotland.

Soon, a tavern worker brought his food. The knight thanked him, pulled out his fork and knife from his bag, cut off a piece of roast beef, and brought it to his mouth. The slice of meat softly bumped against the visor of his helmet. The knight set aside his utensils and calmly removed his helmet, trying not to show his embarrassment. After all, it happens to everyone, right? At least, it had happened to him before, especially when he was drowsy. In any case, such minor things in no way diminished his knightly virtues.

He placed the helmet aside and resumed his meal. The knight turned out to be quite young, no more than eighteen years old. His dark tanned skin pointed that he was a native of southern Europe. His straight nose, full lips, and slightly prominent cheekbones gave him the appearance of a classical statue. Thick black eyebrows arched over his dark eyes, and his head was crowned with a mop of unruly, curly hair.

Despite his hunger, the knight savored each small bite of roast beef, relishing the flavor of the juicy meat. In recent days he had subsisted on nothing more than bread and old scraps of jerky, so a proper meal was a true delight for him.

But then a feeling distracted him from his meal. Out of the corner of his ear, he caught the anxious voice of one of the patrons in the crowd’s hum, and that could only mean one thing: someone urgently needed the help of a knight! The young man listened carefully to the voice as he continued to eat.

– I don’t know what to do. They’ve raided the third hive already! – one of the peasants said.

– And nothing helps? – asked his companion.

– No! I even found their lair on the edge of the woods and burned it, but a couple of days later I saw those scoundrels prowling around the apiary again. I’m afraid I’ll have to venture deeper into the forest to figure out where they’re coming from.

– Isn’t that dangerous? I’ve heard the woods here are quite wild.

– Well, I live here, and I know a thing or two about my homeland. But yes, it’s not wise to go alone. I’ll gather a few men, though we’ll likely have to go much deeper than usual.

Danger, hard work, forays into uncharted territory against ruthless enemies – now that’s a job worthy of a wandering knight! The peasant seemed capable, having destroyed one of the enemy’s outposts, but for a more serious campaign, he would surely need a true warrior. The knight rose, took his sword in one hand, his helmet in the other, and strode decisively toward the beekeeper’s table. Noticing him, the peasant hurried to stand up, but the young man stopped him.

– No need for that, my friend. I happened to overhear your conversation about the marauders ravaging your lands. I offer you my help in ridding you of this scourge. I guarantee the threat will be eliminated in no time.

– Thank you for your offer, sir, – the peasant replied, still rising from his seat. – I really didn’t mean to burden you with my small troubles.

– No misdeeds committed by merciless killers should go unpunished. No matter how minor their offenses may seem to you, these crimes must be nipped in the bud. In my time, I have slain many evildoers, and I can handle any foe.

– You’ve raided wasps’ nests before? – the beekeeper asked in surprise.

The knight paused. It seemed he hadn’t quite understood the nature of the conversation.

– It seems I hadn’t quite understood the nature of the conversation. No, unfortunately, I haven’t encountered such an enemy before, but that won’t stop me. I offered you my help, and I won’t go back on my word.

– Thank you, Sir Knight, but… I’m afraid we have nothing with which to repay you for your help.

– There’s no need for that, my friend. The joy on the faces of those I help – that’s the greatest reward.

– I will be forever in your debt, Sir Knight!

– Call me Verde. Verde, the Green Knight, defender of the downtrodden, bringer of hope in the darkest times!

– As you wish, Sir. My name is Simon, Simon the Beekeeper.

– Pleasure to meet you, Simon. As soon as I finish my meal, I will be ready to face the enemy. See you soon!

Then he nodded, turned, and swiftly returned to his table. His manners, his stride, and his conversation with the beekeeper became quite a spectacle for the tavern’s patrons, but within five minutes, everyone had returned to their business as if nothing had happened. Although one of the patrons seemed quite intrigued by the scene...

Soon, Sir Verde finished his breakfast and set off with Simon toward his apiary. The beehives were outside the city walls, in a flower-covered meadow between two large hills, right at the forest’s edge. About a dozen hives stood there, with bees buzzing all around. The entire apiary was enclosed by a low wooden fence with stone posts. Naturally, this was a completely useless defense against wasps; such a barrier would barely stop a limping cow.

– Not the best fortification, but I think we can work with this, – said Verde, tugging at one of the wooden rods. – Where do the attacks usually come from?

– From the forest, there’s nowhere else for the wasps to build nests.

– Of course! Naturally, I knew that. I just wanted to make sure in case these were some unusual wasps. You said they return far too quickly? Perhaps they’ve built additional strongholds somewhere you haven’t noticed.

– Well, there are clearly more of them near the trees.

– Hmm... – He rubbed the lower part of his helmet, as if stroking his chin. – Yes, it seems so.

The knight stood with his hands on his hips, gazing towards the forest in silence. Simon anxiously shifted nearby, glancing at the trees and then at the warrior, unsure of what to say. It was unclear how long this awkward silence might have lasted if it hadn’t been interrupted by an unexpected guest.

– Am I on time?

They all turned around. Approaching them from the city was a tall young man with pale skin and long, braided red hair. He was dressed quite simply: he wore a thick leather vest over a green shirt, brown trousers, small leather boots, and linen leg wraps. On his back, he wore a grayish-green woolen cloak with a hood, and had a long sword and axe on his belt. His freckled skin on his slender oval face had been roughened by wandering, but the gaze of his green eyes was calm and serene. He had a narrow, straight, a tad upturned nose, and thin lips, slightly curved in a barely visible smirk. Together with his arched eyebrows, this gave the stranger’s face a mocking and somewhat surprised expression.

– I see I’m not the only green warrior here, – said the knight. – My name is Sir Verde, and this is Simon, the local beekeeper.

– I know, we’ve met before. My name is Gwyn. I’m also a sort of wandering warrior, like you. Legends of your deeds have reached our lands and intrigued me greatly, but I prefer to judge people by their actions personally, rather than from the songs of bards from unknown lands.

– In that case, you will have a splendid opportunity to witness them today, my friend!

– I can’t wait, Sir Knight. Shall we begin?

He headed toward the forest and, surprisingly agile jumped over the fence, without even using his hands. Simon followed and clumsily squeezed under the top rail of the fence. Sir Verde hurried after them and tried to mimic Gwyn’s trick but tripped on the barrier and fell to the ground headfirst with a loud crash. When his companions turned around, he was already back on his feet, walking briskly toward the forest as if nothing had happened. Stopping at the forest’s edge, the knight looked up.

– There it is, the source of all evil! – exclaimed Sir Verde, pointing at a hive hanging barely a couple of meters above the ground.

– Well, that’s just one hive, and it appeared quite recently, – said Simon. – A couple of days ago, it wasn’t here.

The knight nodded. Then he drew his sword and prepared to strike.

– Sir Verde? – Gwyn asked.

– Yes?

– Don’t you think it would be better to use a less dangerous method to destroy the hive? If you slice it, a swarm of wasps will attack us.

– Good idea. What do you suggest?

– Burn it, for example?

– I brought a torch and some cloth, – Simon added.

– I see you came well prepared! Excellent work, Simon.

He took the torch from the old man, lit it, and stuck it into the hive. The wasps had nowhere to go. Those that had been circling the hive buzzed around, trying to defend it, but soon both they and the hive were engulfed in flames. All that remained was ash.

– Let’s check if there are any more nests nearby. But stay alert! The enemy may be lurking everywhere!

– We are ready to fight to the death, Sir! – Gwyn replied with mock enthusiasm.

– I like your spirit, my friend! You could make an excellent knight someday. Would you like to be my page?

– Know what, that could be interesting, – Gwyn smirked and, with feigned pride, added, – It would be an honor to become your page, Sir!

– Excellent! Ah, and I see just the task for you, – he pointed at a hive high in a tree. – Gwyn, climb up there and burn it.

– I’m not climbing that tree.

– I understand, – Sir Verde nodded and patted the page on the shoulder. – There’s no shame in that, my friend. Allow me to demonstrate how it’s done.

Sir Verde handed the torch to Simon and, despite his armor, climbed the tree quickly and nimbly like a squirrel. Then he crawled onto a thick branch from which the hive hung.

– Throw me the torch.

Simon threw the torch with all his might and hit the knight square in the forehead.

– Oh no! Please forgive me!

– No harm done, my friend, that’s why I wear a helmet.

– Wasn’t that for landing on your head? – Gwyn asked.

– Quiet, better throw me the cloth. I’ve got another idea.

Gwyn bundled up the worn fabric and tossed it to the knight, this time without incident. Sir Verde crawled closer to the hive as carefully as he could and, with a swift motion, wrapped the cloth around it. A furious buzzing filled the air, but the insects were trapped.

– Perfect! –the knight exclaimed, tearing the hive from the branch. – Now I’ll drop the hive down, and you set it on fire.

– Absolutely not! – snapped Gwyn. – The wasps will scatter everywhere!

– I’ve got it all planned. I’ll shove the hive into my helmet and throw the helmet to you.

– Are all your plans like this?

– More or less.

– Well, in that case, I more or less refuse to catch raging hives! Unlike you, I plan to live at least until tomorrow.

The knight pondered this.

– So, you’ll be ready to catch it tomorrow?

– No!

– You’re quite the stubborn page, Gwyn. Fine, I’ll try to climb down with it myself, – he looked around. – Hmm... it seems like it’ll be difficult to do with the hive in hand. I know! Gwyn, throw me your axe!

Gwyn crossed his arms.

– Look, if I chop the branch a bit, it’ll tilt, and I can sort of slide down it and…

A loud crackling echoed: the branch couldn’t bear the knight’s weight and snapped. It bent toward the tree and slammed the knight hard against the trunk. Sir Verde tried to hold on as best he could but slid to the very end of the branch and then tumbled down head over heels. Simon screamed in terror, but the knight miraculously managed to land on his feet.

– I told you it would work.

– Well, that’s something new, – Gwyn remarked.

– I… I have no words! – exclaimed Simon. – That was just incredible.

– Incredible that you’re still alive. Does this happen during all of your heroic deeds?

– Thank you for your praise, my loyal comrades, – the knight responded proudly. – Almost always, Gwyn, and Lady Luck, as usual, was on my side. I thought you had heard the songs of my journeys and should have been aware of my outstanding methods.

– The stories tend to leave such details out. I guess the bards don’t find it fitting to mention. By the way, how could you not know whether your “methods” are mentioned or not?

– Well, I figured, since I was there, I already knew the plot, – he simply shrugged. – I didn’t see the point in listening.

The knight threw the hive to the ground and began to stomp on it furiously. After a few minutes, he shook out the squashed remains of the insects and handed the cloth back to Simon, then continued searching for more hives.

And there were plenty. The further the trio ventured into the forest, the more often they stumbled upon another nest. By the end of the day, they had destroyed dozens, but there seemed to be no end in sight. Soon, the sun began to sink toward the horizon, visibility in the forest worsened, and the wasp hunters had to postpone their work until tomorrow and return to the city. Simon invited his companions to spend the night at his home.

The beekeeper’s house was inside the city walls, but almost right up against them. The interior was quite modest, like any poor townsperson’s home: white plastered walls and wooden floors, a large table in the center of the room, and several chairs. Shelves with dishes hung on the walls, and various tools needed for beekeeping stood in a corner near the door. On the opposite side from the entrance was a hearth, already burning hot by evening, where dinner was being prepared. The lady of the house was quite surprised by the appearance of guests, especially a knight, and for a moment, she stood there awkwardly, torn between running to the bedroom, greeting them more formally, or heading to the cellar to bring more food.

– This is my wife, Clarissa, – Simon introduced. – Clarissa, this is Sir Verde and Gwyn, they volunteered to help me today at the apiary. Set the table while I go to the cellar. Clarissa made a clumsy attempt at a reverence and hurried to bring food. For dinner, the elderly couple had mushroom soup, and soon Simon brought some dried beef and salted vegetables.

– Today was a very productive day, – said the knight, sitting down at the table. – My friends, I’m proud of you. We’ve rightfully earned this fine meal!

– Yes, it was a tough day, – Simon agreed. – It’s just a shame that there will be more tomorrow.

– In that case, we’ll work even harder! We know where the hives were, so this time we can destroy them faster.

– I didn’t mean they just pop up out of nowhere in the same spots, Sir Verde. I’m just saying that by morning, there will already be new hives in the forest. This disaster spreads as fast as the Plague.

– So, if we find the source before morning… – the knight trailed off in thought.

– I don’t think that’s what he meant, – Gwyn noted.

– It is settled, then! – Sir Verde jumped up from his seat. – We head out immediately! We won’t give the enemy time to prepare.

– We’re tired, and we need rest, even you. No matter how fast we go, there’ll still be plenty of work tomorrow.

– Fine, fine, but listen. If we can prevent the arrival of morning…

– Enough! Sit down and eat, or tomorrow we won’t be going anywhere.

Verde fell silent immediately and hurried to start eating, like a child who had just been scolded. In his fury, Gwyn surprisingly reminded him a of his mother, who was usually calm and even gentle, but absolutely monstruous in her rare moments of anger.

– Perhaps there is a wisdom in your plan, – the knight said humbly. – We have the advantage in strength, and after this meal, we’ll triple it. I was merely suggesting potential tactics for our next move. But I must say, Gwyn, that in the future, you should listen more to your comrades’ opinions.

– Alright, but remember, sir, that your comrades aren’t gods, and can’t take blows to the head all day and then go running off to the forest at night for more adventures. We prefer to work during the day and sleep at night. While we’re working together, we should all listen to each other’s opinions and concerns.

– Well said, Gwyn. However, I’ll still have to punish you for insubordination.

Gwyn put down his spoon, rested his head on his hand, and smiled widely at the knight.

– Oh, really? And how, may I ask?

Sir Verde was not expecting that reaction and froze. He then cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head.

– Well, somehow… to be honest, I’ve never had to punish anyone before. By the time I set out on my travels, I was the youngest in my family and usually on the receiving end of slaps, so to speak.

– Then let’s just eat in peace for now and figure out the punishment later, alright?

– Excellent idea. Gwyn, as my loyal page, I entrust you with the duty of remembering that you must be punished, and to remind me of it at an appropriate moment.

– Oh, I’ll be sure to remember, sir!

And so they agreed. After dinner, they went to rest. Gwyn chatted with Clarissa about something, Simon was checking his tools, preparing for tomorrow’s work, and Sir Verde went upstairs to explore the house.

On the second floor were a couple of small bedrooms with beds, nightstands, and various chests. By one of the walls was a steep staircase leading to the attic. As expected, the attic was filled to the brim with various junk that might be useful in the future and foodstuffs strung up on ropes: mushrooms, sliced fruit, bundles of onions and garlic, and bunches of various medicinal herbs and spices. By one of the windows stood a rocking chair. This side of the house faced the outskirts, offering a lovely view of the apiary, the surrounding fields, and the now pitch-black forest.

The knight sat in the chair and began to think. If the wasps were truly spreading this fast, he and his comrades would have to work three times as hard to wipe them out. Or maybe they could try working smarter, but unfortunately, Sir Verde didn’t have much hope for that. He was of that sad type of people who were smart enough to realize how foolish they are, but too stupid to be able to do anything about it. So, he had to rely on perseverance and resourcefulness.

He rubbed the temples of his helmet. All this confusion about mornings and the sudden appearance of hives was giving him a headache. But he decided to trust his comrades – they seemed to have much more experience in this matter, although it wasn’t proving particularly useful against the rapidly spreading infestation. He urgently needed to come up with some insane but effective plan. If only he could get a hint…