I Accuse

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Photo credit: Stephen Dalton

Let ’em hear me, Barry thought, bounding through the bushes. I need ta git ta da Prince before dat double dealin’ ol’ bat can carry out her diabolical plan — whatever it is.

He scarcely avoided colliding with the guard who stood ready to fight when he broke through the undergrowth, skidding to a stop on the trail.

“Barry!” Clifton greeted him, “You’re alive!”

“Where’s Prince Elliot? I hafta tell ’im somethin’.”

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Not So Private Audience

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Photo credit: Arnoud Quanjer

“Lady Lucy,” the Prince corrected the young Knight, “is not our immediate concern. Right now, we wait quietly for Clifton to return.”

“Or end up as somebody’s midnight snack,” Barry muttered.

Ahead, a hushed Knight announced, “Someone’s coming, Sir.”

Clifton touched down in front of Elliot. “It’s one of the Stingers. Says his name is Julius and he knew we were coming. He wants to talk with you, but he wants you to leave the Knights behind.”

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Lady Lucy

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Photo credit: M. Brock Fenton

Panic tightening his throat, Clifton screamed, “Stand down! Stand down, soldier!”

A tick of indecision seized the fearsome jaws. The furry head whipped toward the brash young bee.

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Willing to Die

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Photo credit: zootours.ca

Beneath the unexpected flapping, Clifton bemoaned his deficient night vision as he  searched the obscurity overhead for any movement greater than the fluttering leaves. Only moments earlier, they had been so thankful for the moon-eclipsing clouds, and now he just wished for some light. A cringing fear crawled up his back as he recognized the strangely solitary sound.

“Barry,” he hissed, “get down from there!”

“I’m tryin’ ta see what it is!”

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Oliva

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Photo credit: Paul Curtis

Clifton wished he were flying. “They’re right,” he reminded himself, “my buzzing would attract attention in the middle of the night, but this walking — crawling — through the woods in the dark… it’s nerve-wracking!”

Tripping yet again over yet another a random leaf or twig or pebble he couldn’t see in the shadowy mottle they called a trail, he fell sideways over a lichen-covered rock.

A harsh whisper emerged from its surface. “Oy! Watch i’ theah, mate!”

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Randall

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Photo credit: runwildtv.com

King Arnie sent one third of the Knights he’d brought to Fen to go with Prince Elliot to the Freelands. He ordered another third to keep Princess Cassandra safe in Fen. With his small remaining contingent, his Greatness swept unnoticed through Bog. He didn’t stop till they reached the jail.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked the prisoner who’d freed the Crone.

“Of course I do, your Greatness,” the jittery fellow twittered, bowing his head. “I was born and raised in the Cranberry Bog, same as you.”

“Really? No one here knows you.”

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Dearly Departing

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Photo credit: Uda Dennie

Elliot smiled. “Of course I’ll be back, my love. There is no force of nature or unnatural conscious design powerful enough to keep me from you.”

He had pushed the end of the day as far away as possible, filling each minute with a smorgasbord of stories and plans and preparations only to find sunset had swallowed the overstuffed hours as easily as ever, dragging the blanket of night behind it. Those who were going to the Freelands had agreed to travel under the cover of darkness.

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Reunited

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Photo credit: Ernie Cooper

In sight of the bower’s entrance, a member of the Hive Elite waylaid Vernon with the Queen’s request that he return immediately to the Hive.

“My apologies, Sir Barry, for abandoning you before introducing you to the Princess and Prince. The bower is just over there, and if you let them know you’re replacing Clifton for the time being, I’m sure you’ll find the Royal couple gregarious and pleasant company.” He flew off before Barry could respond.

I’m s’posed ta walk in dere an’ innerduce myself ta Royalty? Well, he thought, I’ve done tougher tings. Continue reading “Reunited”

Running Wild

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Photo credit: Ryun

At the news a prisoner had escaped, the Knights who had come to Fen with the King fell in behind him like a wall of spears.

“How did this happen? Was anyone hurt?” King Arnie questioned Barry.

“Someone claimin’ ta be a visitor knocked out da guard and stole his keys, yer Greatness. When he woke up, his head hurt, but he was okay enough ta take a trackin’ team after ’em.”

“And?”

“Dey caught up wit’ da guy dat busted her out, but dey lost da old woman’s trail.”

“Who is he?”

Barry shrugged. “Nobody knows an’ he wou’n’t talk.”

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The Party’s Over

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Image credit: S.T. Ranscht

Singing and dancing, stories and laughter, the woods filled with music and cheer. Contests and games, honors and congratulations, the community reveled in camaraderie and fellowship.

It was a night to hold in memory and revisit over the years in times of sorrow to lift a grieving heart, in lonely times to recall the bonds of friendship, or to polish up and present as a model for future times of grand celebration.

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