ONE THE BEEKEEPER 1 WASHED ASHORE A huge saloh tree stood on the lakeshore, its blossom-laden branches stretching over the water. The soft white petals shimmered like cotton down in the morning light and honeybees flitted back and forth among them. Gazing up, Joeun smiled and rubbed his graying beard. It’s going to be a good year. Those bees will make plenty of good-quality honey. A breeze crossed the lake, rippling the surface and carrying the scent of blossoms. Joeun began walking along the shore to check the other trees but then stopped abruptly, his eyes caught by an odd sight. Little yellow-beaked birds were flocking on the bank, chirping excitedly and pecking at something on the ground. It looked like a mound of mud. What’s that? He froze as he realized what it must be. A body … The unlucky soul must have drowned and been washed ashore. It was small, probably a child. What a lousy way to start the morning. What am I going to do now? He was too far from any village to get help with a burial. But he could not bear to leave it lying there, especially if it was a child. Making up his mind, he strode toward it. As he drew near, he noticed a peculiar musk-like odor, strong and sweet. He stopped and glanced apprehensively at the lake. Could there be Toda nearby? But the surface was calm, and there was no sign that anything was about to lunge at him from the water. The odor appeared to be coming from the body. Kneeling down, he examined it closely. The limp form, coated from neck to toe in glue-like mud, looked like a clay doll. The pale face, however, was relatively clean. Joeun grimaced at the sight … The poor girl. She’s such a little thing … Her face was turned toward him, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. Suddenly, a blade of grass near her mouth fluttered. He bent close and felt her breath brush his cheek. “She’s alive!” he exclaimed. He slapped her face and shook her by the shoulder. “Hey! Hey! Wake up! Can you hear me? Wake up!” She groaned weakly and opened her eyes a crack, only to shut them again instantly. “This is serious,” Joeun muttered. He slipped an arm beneath her and gently lifted her off the ground. Although completely limp, she was very light. Elin came to her senses at the sensation of warm water enveloping her body. Her hands and feet stung, as if her skin had been scraped or cut. Someone held her head and washed her hair. Wet cloth clung to her limbs. Had she been put in the bath with her clothes on? Something hard jabbed her in the back. It was a very strange bath. She opened her eyes and saw a stranger’s face looming over her. “Ah, you’ve come to, have you?” he said. She blinked and tried to feel what was digging into her. It seemed to be a board. The man laughed. “Sorry if it hurts. Just hang on a little longer. I don’t have a bathtub big enough for you so I filled my little punt with hot water. I can’t tell if you’re injured or not with all this mud on you.” Her body felt like lead, and she could not speak. She closed her eyes and fell back into a deep sleep. The next time she opened her eyes it was evening. She was lying alone in a silent room. She gazed blankly up at the ceiling. It was a very odd ceiling. It looked like a piece of cloth made from woven twigs. The westering sun cast an orange glow on the wall, and dust motes danced slowly in the light. Her body was burning. She closed her eyes and was sucked back down into oblivion. Terrifying dreams, snatches of nightmares, followed her. Spray wet her face. The Toda’s sinuous, undulating body moved beneath her. She burned with pain, and her body felt so heavy. Again and again, she heard her mother’s voice, her last words. Again and again, she saw her swallowed by the swarm of Toda. Each time she relived that scene, a sharp pain raced from her gut to her chest, as if she were being slashed in two. She could not even weep. Something gnawed away at her insides, causing her such agony that she could barely breathe. She felt something cold against her forehead. A large hand weighed on the quilt, and another slowly and gently rubbed her back. “It’s all right. It’s just a dream. You’re dreaming. There’s nothing to fear.” As she listened to that deep, calm voice, the nightmares slowly loosened their grip. Joeun watched the girl’s face as he wiped away the beads of sweat with a damp cloth. Her cheeks were as red as apples, and she was breathing shallowly. She had been crying out, disturbed by dreams, but now she was quiet. A day and a night had already passed, but she had regained consciousness for only a few moments at a time before slipping away again. He had tried to administer a medicinal brew of laoo to bring down her temperature, which was far too high, but she had not been able to swallow it. Perhaps it was too bitter. The only thing he had succeeded in making her drink was the juice of a citrus fruit named kalimu, thinned with cold water and mixed with honey and some very precious tabu chimu, queen bee milk. Considering how much she was sweating, he had better keep administering the juice. The child could only be about ten, and she was so slight that he feared she might not survive such a high fever. Tabu chimu, however, was potent enough to transform an ordinary larva into a queen bee. He could only pray that it, along with the honey, would be enough to sustain this child’s life. It was the sound of her weeping that he found the hardest to bear. She must have been through something horrific. Her cries were those of a child longing for its mother. They were wrung from her body in wracking sobs that made his throat catch. What on earth happened to her? Her clothes were different, resembling those worn by the Wajak, the “mixed blood” people of Aluhan territory far to the east. But it was three days’ journey on horseback to the nearest Aluhan border. How could a little girl like this have traveled so far alone? Where were her parents? And why had she been covered in mud and Toda slime? Her arms, her palms, her legs from the knees down—every inch of skin that had not been protected by clothing had been lacerated. There was another thing that puzzled him: the color of her eyes. She had only opened them briefly, but he had been startled to see that they were green … Could she have Ahlyo blood in her veins? What a troublesome find. This might turn out to be more than he could handle. He sighed. “But now that I’ve taken her in,” he murmured to himself, “I hope she makes it through.” His greatest fear was tetanus. Wherever the mud had been ground into the gashes, her skin had begun to fester. If her wounds were just infected, he could treat them. But if she had tetanus, there was nothing he could do. Worrying, however, would get him nowhere. It was better to treat the swollen cuts than not. He rested his chin in his hand and thought. Should I try it or not? It’s an effective cure for inflammations, but it’s also a strong toxin. Even some adults react to it so strongly that they stop breathing. Is it safe to use on a child? The girl opened her eyes. Her lips moved. She must be thirsty. Joeun slipped a hand under her head and raised her gently. With his other hand, he grasped a bowl and brought it to her lips, pouring a little of the juice into her mouth. She drank it with small gulping noises. “Is it good?” he asked. She seemed to be lucid. Maybe now she would be able to answer. “Have you ever been stung by a bee?” he asked. She looked up at him with fever-blurred eyes, but then shook her head ever so slightly. “So you’ve never been stung by a bee. You’re sure of that?” She nodded and then closed her eyes. Laying her down again, Joeun made up his mind. He stood up and walked over to a shelf, from which he took a bamboo tube and a beeswax candle. He lit the candle and walked outside into the chill night air. Bundles of dried hasaku, an oil-rich plant, hung under the eaves. He grabbed a bundle and lit it. Thick smoke curled up from the stalks. Going round the house, he walked over to a grove of trees where a row of beehives stood. He went up to one, knocked on the lid, and opened it. Slowly, he waved the smoldering torch near the opening, wafting smoke over the exposed surface. Once he was sure that the bees swarming around the edges of the nest had grown quiet, he picked up first one and then another and slid them into the bamboo tube. “Sorry to bother you,” he murmured and, closing the lid, returned to the house with the tube. Inside, he held each bee up to the light and removed its stinger with a pair of bamboo tweezers. He laid the stingers out on a cloth and returned the bees to the tube. Then he clasped his hands in prayer for a moment. Without their stingers, these bees would die. They were only tiny little insects, yet to Joeun each one was a precious treasure. He was sorry, but he could only ask for their forgiveness. “And now…” he whispered. He pulled back the covers and examined the girl’s arms and legs. The worst wounds were on the inside of each knee. He frowned. The saddle on a horse could rub a rider’s legs raw in this very spot, but the wounds on her legs looked more like they had been sliced by something sharp. Joeun gingerly stuck the stinger into the swollen skin next to the open sore and pulled it out again immediately. She jerked slightly and frowned, but then closed her eyes again. He repeated this process for her other wounds, taking care not to insert the needle very far, so as to limit the amount of toxin he injected. “Well, that’s done … I just hope it works.” He wiped the sweat from his brow and, placing a bowl of falan, an antidote for bee poisoning, close at hand, prepared to stay up all night to watch over her. If her fever dropped by morning, she was sure to recover. Elin woke to the sound of birds warbling. A breeze wafted in from somewhere, bringing with it the scent of morning dew on grass. Her nightmares had vanished without a trace, and she could see the world around her clearly now. She turned over slowly and saw a large man sitting cross-legged on the floor beside her bed. He was sound asleep, with his arms folded and his head hanging. The weight of his head pulled his body forward, but when it reached a certain point, he jerked himself upright, eyes still closed. Then, once more, he began to tilt. Elin watched him lazily. He must be very tired. He drooped further and further forward, then suddenly pitched onto the ground, smacking his head loudly on the floor. He groaned and opened his eyes, then stared around him with a startled look as if wondering what had happened. Elin covered her mouth with her hand. She shouldn’t laugh, but she couldn’t help it. The man rose and blinked. “So you can laugh, can you?” he said, then burst out laughing himself. He was a complete stranger, as huge as a bear, with a bushy beard, yet, perhaps because of that laugh, Elin did not feel afraid. He stopped and looked at her again. “Seems like your fever’s gone. You look refreshed … Do you feel all right?” Elin nodded. “Good, then. Let me see those cuts on your knees.” He pulled back the covers, and she realized that she was wearing a very large shirt tied at the waist. Although the sleeves had been folded over multiple times, her hands were barely visible. She must be wearing the man’s pajama top, but for her it served perfectly as a nightgown. He examined her knees and looked relieved. “The swelling has gone down a lot since yesterday. You’ll be better in no time.” He pulled up the covers. “You’ve got strong luck, you know. You went to the brink of the netherworld but came back again.” At his words, memory flooded her mind. The sight of her mother overrun by a swarm of Toda filled her eyes, and a searing lump of pain rose from her stomach into her throat. She burst into tears. Mother … How she longed to see her. Mother, Mother, Mother … Curling up into a ball, she began to weep as if the sobs were being wrenched from her chest. The man reached out and patted her through the covers. She recognized his touch. It was the same hand that had comforted her while she lay dreaming. “It’s all right. Cry as much as you need to,” he said. “Tears are the soup of sorrow. The more tears you shed, the more they will wash away your grief. Eventually you’ll be able to forget what caused you so much pain.” His words rippled through her mind. Could that be true? If she cried and cried until she had no more tears left, would her sorrow lessen … would she gradually forget her mother? She closed her eyes. She did not want to forget her mother. Definitely not. But the tears kept flowing and would not stop. Hiccupping, she took a deep breath and clenched her teeth, trying to hold back her sobs. Her breath came out in a groan, and she coughed violently. The man tapped the quilt sharply. “Hey now, don’t try to stop. It’s better to cry.” Elin shook her head and buried her face in the pillow, squeezing it tightly as she tried to stem the flood of tears. “What’s wrong?” He rested his hand on her back, his voice full of concern. In a muffled voice, she forced out the words. “I … don’t … want … to cry.” “Why?” But she did not answer, nor did she raise her face from the pillow. Frowning, he stared at her for a few moments, but then rose with a grunt, as if he had decided that it was better to let her be. She listened to him puttering in the dirt-floored kitchen, and her sobs gradually subsided. Lifting her head, she tried to sit up but was overcome by a wave of dizziness and hastily lay back down. She thought that the dizziness would never pass, but gradually it eased. She still felt shaky, however, like an empty shell. Her head ached, and her fingers trembled. Wiping her tearstained face with her hands, she turned her head on the pillow to look toward the kitchen. The man was squatting in front of a clay oven and holding a pair of tongs over the coals. He seemed to be toasting something. White morning light poured through the open doorway, and a pleasant aroma wafted her way, making her stomach growl. Hunger suddenly gripped her, and her mouth watered. How long had it been since she had last eaten?… She realized with surprise that she had had nothing to eat since supper at Saju’s house many days ago. No wonder she was so ravenous. After working in the kitchen for some time, the man finally brought a steaming bowl to the sleeping room. “Here. Breakfast.” He put a hand under her head and slowly raised her up. “Do you think you can sit?” Elin nodded. There was no dizziness now, perhaps because he had moved her so gently. “Good. In that case it’s probably better if you feed yourself. Here.” Elin blinked at the contents of the warm, wooden bowl he handed her. Instead of a steaming bowl of rice such as she was used to, she saw what looked like toasted rice cakes covered in milk and thick golden honey. She bit cautiously into one of the toasted cakes, and a deliciously sweet and savory flavor filled her mouth. “Do you like it?” the man asked. She nodded, her eyes round, and he grinned. “You can’t beat my honey! It’s the best in the land! My precious little bees worked hard to make it.” As honey was expensive, Elin had never been allowed so much before. It was far richer and more fragrant than any she had ever tasted. She ate greedily and as the food filled her stomach, warmth spread through her. Now that the sharp edge had been taken off her hunger, she was curious. “What’s this?” she asked, holding up one of the dried cakes. At first, the man looked puzzled, but then he said, “That’s fahko, unleavened bread made with mixed grains. That’s what we always eat. We grind the grain, mix it with water, and bake it. It’s good, right? What do you usually eat for breakfast?” “Rice and soup,” Elin said in a small voice. “Really? You are a Wajak then. The Aluhan’s land is far larger than the Yojeh’s, where we live. You’ve got enough land and water to grow plenty of rice.” Elin looked startled. “You mean this isn’t Aluhan territory?” “This is Sanolu County on the eastern edge of the territory ruled by the Yojeh. It’s pretty mountainous, so cereal grains like wheat and barley grow better than rice. That’s why we eat fahko.” He smiled at her. “You didn’t even know where you were, then? Where are your parents?” Her face clouded. Feeling the tears rising in her throat again, she bit her lip, held her breath, and shook her head. If she opened her mouth to speak, she was afraid only sobs would escape her lips. “You mean you have no parents, no family at all?” he asked gently. Elin only nodded, keeping her head down. The man frowned. “What happened? How did you wind up lying on the lakeshore covered in mud?” She did not look up, nor did she answer. For some reason, she was afraid to voice what had happened—her mother’s execution, the endless ride on the Toda’s back as it plowed through the water, the fact that she had finally fallen off into the lake. Watching the girl sit in silence with her head bowed, the man sighed. “Never mind then. If you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t force you. But at least tell me your name. Mine’s Joeun. What shall I call you?” Elin flushed. She hastily returned a piece of fahko to her bowl and knelt formally in front of him. The scrapes on her knees hurt, but she ignored them. How could she have been so rude as to sit gobbling his food without a word of thanks and without even introducing herself? Even though he had saved her life, brought her here, and nursed her. Her face burned with shame. She placed both palms against her chest and lowered her forehead to the floor in the posture of highest deference. “My name is Elin. Thank you so much for saving me.” Joeun smiled. “Elin, the wild apple that grows in the mountains. What a nice name.” As he watched the little girl before him, so prim and proper, questions clamored in his mind. She was obviously not the daughter of some drifter or traveling performer. She must belong to the artisan class, or perhaps an even higher rank. Although the clothes she wore were not the most expensive and were somewhat the worse for wear, they were cut of good cloth. It was true that the Aluhan’s territory was richer than that of the Yojeh, but still, only those of middle rank or higher could eat rice for breakfast every day. And her bearing, her manners, her language—they all indicated that she had been strictly brought up. All artisans, whether Wajak ruled by the Aluhan or Holon ruled by the Yojeh, took great pride in their skill, and although their lifestyle was simple, they had a steady income. If she had been raised among such people, then why had she ended up here? Even more troubling were her eyes. In the morning light, he could see them clearly. Although almond-shaped like a Wajak’s, they were green. Artisans hated drifters. Would one really marry an Ahlyo? No. In the first place, the Ahlyo would never allow it. Marital unions outside their people were forbidden. So what on earth was she? The more he thought about it, the more puzzled he became. I guess I’ll just have to wait. It’ll become clear in time. “Lift your head,” he said to the girl. “I’m sorry I interrupted your breakfast with questions. You’re just recovering from a fever, so you’d better eat up.” Elin raised her face, bowed once again, and then reached for some fahko. The weakness she had felt earlier seemed to have vanished. Joeun picked up his bowl and began wolfing down his breakfast. It was very quiet. She could hear no sounds of people working outside. There was only the sound of two mouths chewing and the warbling of the birds. When they had both finished eating, Joeun swiftly cleared away the dishes and spread out a thin blanket on the sleeping platform next to Elin. “I was up most of the night, so I’m going to sleep now. You should rest today, too. If you need to use the outhouse, it’s to the right when you go out the door.” So saying, he rolled himself up in the blanket. In no time at all, Elin heard the sound of muffled snoring. Lying on her side, she gazed around the house. From somewhere out back, she could hear the lazy bleating of a goat and the squawking of hens. There was no tolling of a bell to summon the Stewards to a gathering, no sound of Saju’s younger sister crying, no dogs barking. The sounds and smells of this morning were not at all like home. Mother … she whispered in her mind. What should I do now? But her mother was gone. There was no one to guide her. Even if she went home, her mother would not be there … Fear washed through her at that thought, making it hard to breathe. Should she ask this man to lend her money and find her way home? Saju’s mother was there in the village. Maybe she could live on her own if Saju’s mother helped her. She frowned. She tried to imagine what life would be like, and something sour and bitter rose like bile into her throat. She saw her grandfather’s face, the expressions of the Stewards, as they watched her blood-soaked mother being tossed into the swamp. Even though she was one of them, they didn’t try to help her. Just the thought of meeting her grandfather made her want to vomit. She could not stand to see his hard, unfriendly face or to listen to his unkind words. Those who had stood by and let her mother die lived in that village … not her mother. Elin threw an arm over her face. 2 THE FLIGHT OF THE QUEEN “You’re looking much better today,” Joeun said as he came in from his morning chores. “Yesterday your face looked like a shriveled apple plucked from the pond, but today you’ve got a rosy glow in your cheeks.” He smiled. “Just goes to show, kids get sick quick, but get well even quicker … Would you like to try going outside today?” Elin nodded. She was tired of staying in bed. “Your clothes are dry. Go ahead and put them on. If you go out in my pajama top, Totchi and Noro will laugh at you.” Elin looked at him in surprise. She had not been aware that anyone else lived in this tiny house. “Totchi and Noro?” “My horse and goat.” He held out her clothes, which had been hanging on the wall. Elin blushed. Those weren’t her clothes—they were her pajamas! She had been running about in pajamas ever since she had overheard Saju’s parents talking. She was mortified by the thought. “What’s the matter?” Joeun asked. He did not seem to realize they were pajamas. Without looking up, she took them wordlessly. She slipped on the trousers and belted her top over them. The faint scent of Toda made her heart lurch, but she pressed her lips firmly together. “Here, take this,” Joeun said, passing her a hat of woven straw. A thin, net-like cloth was sewn to the brim, and Elin examined it curiously. Joeun picked a pair of gloves off the floor and handed them to her. “Put on the hat and gloves when we go out back. They’ll be too big for you, but better too big than too small.” “What is this?” “It’s a shield to protect you from my little treasures. I won’t spoil the surprise by telling you anything more.” He winked and went briskly out the door. Elin followed obediently, hat and gloves in hand. Once outside, she gasped. Mountains so tall they seemed to pierce the sky towered in the distance. Just looking at them made her dizzy. They looked too enormous to be real, a stark contrast to the gentle green hills rolling before her. Against the blue sky, their white-crowned peaks stood out sharply, caressed by wisps of cloud that looked like snow spray. “Is this your first time to see the Afon Noah, the Mountains of the Gods?” Elin nodded. “That’s the wall that separates the world of the gods from the world of men. It’s said that the ancestors of the Yojeh once lived on the other side.” Elin stared wordlessly. So that’s the Afon Noah. She could hardly believe it. Here, right before her eyes, was the range built to shut humans away from the world of the fearsome gods that peopled the myths called the Afon Kahlo, tales which her mother had told her so often. So it really existed. “Your eyes are going to pop out of your head if you keep staring like that.” Joeun laughed. He rested his hand on her shoulder. “They’ve been there since the beginning of the world. They’re not going to disappear just because you take your eyes off them for a moment. You’ll have plenty of chances to look at them all you want. But first, come and see my treasures.” She followed him behind the house and through a copse until they emerged into a large, sunlit clearing. Beneath the broadleaf trees stood several boxes resting on brick platforms. Their tops were covered with straw. Bees buzzed around the boxes in the rear, but Elin could not see any around one box that stood in the sunlight. Joeun frowned and stopped. He laid a restraining hand on her arm and said, “Wait here.” The words had no sooner left his mouth than a black, smoke-like cloud rose from the strangely silent box. But it was not smoke. It was bees: tens of thousands of them—an astounding sight. They rose into the air, circling slowly, their wings thrumming. “Oh no. This is bad…” Joeun muttered. “They’re swarming! Did I miss a queen cup?” The cluster circled toward them with a deafening drone. Terrified, Elin was about to fling her arms over her head and crouch down on the ground when Joeun grabbed her elbow. “Don’t make any sudden movement. Put your hat on very slowly.” Teeth chattering and hands shaking, Elin raised her hat to her head. Her stomach cramped, and she broke into a cold sweat, certain that the bees would attack her at any moment. “Don’t worry,” Joeun whispered. “As long as you stay still, they won’t hurt you.” Humming loudly, the thick blob hovered over their heads where they stood motionless and then moved on, the air vibrating with the sound of millions of tiny beating wings. Elin’s skin crawled. Finally, the lead bees came to rest on a thick tree branch, and the others followed suit. Soon a huge, squirming lump of black and yellow enveloped the branch. Joeun let out his breath slowly. “It’s all right now. You can move, but slowly, okay?” Elin, too, had been holding her breath, and now she let it go. “Once they’ve landed on a branch like that they’ll stay there for at least half a day. As long as there’s no aggressive movement nearby.” While she listened to Joeun explain, Elin stared in fascination at the squirming lump. Now that she was no longer afraid of being stung, the huge swarm’s strange behavior excited her curiosity. “Why did they stop on that branch?” she whispered. “Does it have nectar?” Joeun responded with a smile in his voice, “No. They didn’t gather there to collect nectar. They’ve discarded their old hive and are traveling with the queen to find a new home.” Elin looked up at him in surprise. “There’s a queen in there?” “You saw the big bee that flew at the back of the swarm, didn’t you? That’s the queen bee. When the hive becomes overcrowded, she leaves a young queen bee larva in the original hive and takes about half the worker bees with her to find a place to build a new hive.” There was something not just frightening but incredibly powerful about the swarm’s perfectly ordered flight. “So will they go on a long journey?” Elin asked. Joeun laughed quietly. “I certainly hope not, because if they do, I’m going to starve. I clipped the wings of the queen bee to prevent them from getting away. It’s not really fair I suppose, but it will keep her from flying very far. Come give me a hand, will you? I have to get a new beehive ready.” Elin followed him back to the west side of the house and noticed a stable and a goat pen. The animals watched with interest as they approached. That must be Totchi and Noro, she thought, although she wasn’t sure which was which. Joeun continued around the house to a shed on the north. The uneven coats of thick white plaster on the walls announced the workman to be an amateur. The building was full of tools and equipment, and the shelves on the north wall were lined with clay jars. It was dimly lit by a single window with a raised shutter, and the air inside was cool. Joeun picked up an empty box and frowned. “Oh, that’s right. This is the only usable hive left right now.” He gestured with his chin to the back of the shed. “I’m going to carry this box outside. Could you bring that black jar for me?” Elin turned in the direction he indicated and saw that there was, indeed, a small black jar on the shelf. Instead of a lid, it appeared to have handles. “Is that … a sprayer?” Joeun looked at her in surprise. “Yes, but how did you figure that out?” Her mother had used one much like this to spray ointment onto the Toda when their hides had been scratched. In her mind, Elin saw her mother’s white hand gripping the sprayer. She followed Joeun outside without answering, carrying the sprayer in both hands. They walked as far as the meadow. There, Joeun rested the hive on the ground and took off the lid. He pulled out many boards, each covered in the same strange pattern. Noticing that Elin was staring at them, Joeun explained, “These are comb frames, where the bees live. Give me that sprayer, please.” She handed him the contraption and he began spraying something onto the frames and into the box. A sweet, slightly fermented fragrance wafted toward her. She had expected it to smell like medicine, and she looked at Joeun in surprise. “It smells good!” He smiled. “It does, doesn’t it? I just hope the bees think so, too.” “Oh! I see! You’re scenting this hive so that the bees will want to live in it. Because bees are attracted by the smell of flowers.” He looked at her curiously. “How old are you?” “What?… Oh. Ten.” “You certainly don’t talk like a ten-year-old.” She blinked at him. Then she blushed, recalling that Saju had once told her, “You talk like a grown-up.” Seeing her flush, Joeun said, “I wasn’t criticizing you for being cheeky or anything, so you don’t need to feel bad. To tell the truth, I’m quite impressed.” He smiled again and shook the sprayer. “But unfortunately, you guessed wrong. This isn’t what will encourage them to live here. It’s the sugar water that I’ll spray in here after that will draw them in. I applied this particular concoction for a different reason. Can you guess what it is?” Then he laughed. “I’m betting you can’t.” Elin stood beside him, holding each frame as he sprayed it, but all the while she was wondering why he needed to spray everything with such a strong scent. Did he want to make them drunk? As she pondered this question, a certain scene leapt into her mind. When an old Toda had died and a young Toda was being moved into the same Pond, her mother and the Stewards had smeared the gluey membrane of the dead Toda onto the young one. “Uncle Joeun…” she murmured. “Yes?” “Did another swarm of bees live in this box before?” Joeun’s hands stilled, and he looked at her. “Why do you ask?” She said uncertainly, “I thought that perhaps you were trying to erase the scent of other bees with this spray…” He groaned. “I don’t believe it! You guessed it. That’s exactly what it’s for, to erase another smell.” Elin’s face lit up in a smile. Raising his eyebrows, Joeun grinned back. “Ah. You smiled,” he said as he began spraying the frames again. “You look very happy when you smile, you know. “You’re right. Each hive of bees has its own distinctive scent. That’s how they can distinguish members from their own hive. But I’m not erasing the smell of bees. I’m erasing the smell of their bitter enemy. A very stinky toad called a gosu got into this box. By the time I noticed, the bees had already fled. I washed and dried the inside, but bees are very sensitive to smell.” He brought the tip of the sprayer close to her nose so that she could smell it. “This liquid was distilled from nafalan flowers, which honeybees love. Interestingly, it even calms bees down when they’re excited. So I thought I’d try and see if it’ll cover up the smell of the gosu … But still, I’m impressed that you guessed what it’s for. Were your family beekeepers?” Elin shook her head and looked down at the ground. Silently, Joeun chided himself. Idiot. There you go again … Just when the sun starts to shine, you go and cast a cloud over it. For this child, any talk of her family was like touching a tender wound. He knew this, but his curiosity kept getting the better of him, making him say one thing too many. That’s a bad habit. I’m too impatient. She was extremely sharp. If he tried to pry, she would notice immediately. The best way to put her at ease was to let it be and forget trying to find out more. “Right then. It’s time to put the frames back in. Give me a hand, will you?” Elin nodded. 3 ROYAL JELLY How on earth is he going to get that swarm into this box? Elin wondered. While she watched with keen interest, Joeun put on the gloves and netted hat that she handed him and carried the box to the tree, placing it under the branch that was now black and swollen with the escaped bees. He had sprayed the inside of the box with sugar water and put some honey in it as well. He went back to the shed once more and this time returned with a large bag, a hatchet, and a step. “If you want to watch, that’s fine, but don’t come any nearer than this,” he said. Then he walked over to the branch and placed the step beneath it. Stepping onto it, he raised the large bag slowly up toward the squirming mass of bees. He’s going to put them in that bag! She cringed. Surely that would anger the bees. They might attack him. Slowly the bag enveloped the black lump. The branch was fairly high, so even when standing on tiptoe, Joeun could not capture the entire mass. This did not seem to concern him, however, for when most of the bees were in the bag, he quickly pulled the mouth closed and raised his hatchet. Bringing it down where the bark was clear of bees, he chopped the branch off and let it slide into the bag. The remaining bees buzzed about excitedly, but Joeun paid no attention. Throwing the hatchet to the ground, he climbed off the step with the bag in his hand and pressed the mouth of it against a small slit near the bottom of the bee box. From where she was standing, Elin could not see clearly, but it looked like the bees were crawling out of the bag and into the box. Even so, many still buzzed in the air. She shrank back, keeping her eyes on Joeun. For a long time, he stood watching the entrance to the box. Finally, he put the bag down on the ground and walked slowly over to her. “We’re done. Let’s have some lunch.” “What?” she exclaimed in surprise. Could it really be all right to leave the beehive entrance open? “But won’t they escape?” Joeun laughed. “No need to worry. Come back after lunch and you’ll see. They may be flying about outside right now, but by then they’ll be snug inside the hive.” Elin looked at the box. Bees were crawling in and out of the hive, and many more were flying about in agitation. They had flown off in search of a new home. Wouldn’t they rather run away than be shut up in a box once again so close by? They might be enjoying the sugar water right now, but once it was gone, wouldn’t they leave? Joeun put a hand on her shoulder. “If it bothers you that much, why don’t you stay and watch? I’ll go back to the house and call you when lunch is ready. But you’d better come when I call … And don’t go near that box.” Elin nodded. Once he had left, everything seemed suddenly very quiet. There were only the sounds of the breeze rustling the branches and the bees humming. She watched them move. Then suddenly her eyes opened wide. The bees that had been flitting back and forth around the box began to drop toward it, one after the other, as if drawn by a magnet. When they reached the entrance, they folded their wings and streamed inside, as if to say, “We’re home.” Before she knew it, not a bee was left. She stared at the box, spellbound. This, she thought, was true magic. What on earth could they be doing in there? They had set off on a journey to a new land. Were they now consoling each other, saying, “I guess this place will have to do”? And how did that huge black swarm fit in there? She longed to peek inside … Joeun had told her not to go near the hive. But as long as she didn’t touch it, if she just peeked inside that opening without startling the bees, perhaps she could see something. She glanced behind her and then moved stealthily toward the box. It was very quiet. She crouched down and peered inside the long, narrow slit that served as an entrance. It was so dark that she could not see anything. Or maybe she could. Something was moving. Was it bees? She could hear a whirring of wings. What were they doing? She tilted her head and strained her eyes, trying to see inside, when suddenly someone grabbed her shoulder. Startled, she was about to scream when a large hand covered her mouth, and she found herself tucked under an arm and carried away. Joeun did not set her down until he reached the house. “I told you not to go near that box!” Elin bowed her head. “I’m sorry.” “Honeybees rarely sting people, but if they’re excited or think you’re an invader, they will defend their hive with their lives.” “I’m sorry.” She looked so contrite that Joeun relaxed. “Honestly,” he said. “You scared the wits out of me!” Then he asked her gently, “Did it seem so strange that they should all go quietly into the box?” Elin responded in a small voice, “Yes … They left a box just like it because they didn’t like being trapped inside. So why did they go into another one as if they were going home?” Joeun smiled. “That’s because it is home. For worker bees, wherever the queen bee decides to live is home.” “Oh!” Elin looked up. “Did you say that we were done because you saw the queen bee go inside?” “That’s right. If the queen bee is content with the box, the other bees will follow. A bee’s loyalty is even stronger than ours. They never rebel against their leader. Sometimes it’s almost spooky to watch … It’s as if they’re being pulled into the hive by a string, every single one of them.” Elin remembered how they had all flown out together in a single swarm—and how they had all crawled back into the queen bee’s box, as if under a spell. “I wonder if the queen bee uses some kind of magic,” she said. Joeun laughed. “She just might. After all, many mothers seem to have supernatural powers.” “Mothers? Is the queen bee a mother?” “Yup. She’s the mother of every single bee in that hive.” “Really?” Elin’s eyes widened. “All of them? You mean that queen bee gave birth to all the bees in that box?” “Hard to believe, isn’t it? But it’s true. There are tens of thousands of worker bees in there, but every one of them is her daughter. The worker bees are all female, but they don’t lay eggs. They just work the whole time, collecting nectar. Only the queen lays eggs and she does so by the tens of thousands.” Elin stared at him with her mouth open. She felt goosebumps rising on her skin. How incredible! A single queen bee could lay thousands of eggs. The daughters born from those eggs became worker bees and spent their whole lives working. How different the relationship between a mother bee and her children compared to Elin’s relationship with her mother. As she imagined the queen bee laying eggs and her daughters emerging from them, she was suddenly puzzled. “That’s strange.” Joeun raised his eyebrows. “What is?” She looked at him. “If the worker bees are her children, they should be like her, so why aren’t they queen bees, too?” “Hmm.” He looked at her for a moment and then gently pushed her shoulder. “Let me show you something.” He led her to the same shed where he had stored the box and sprayer. Inside, he lifted up a slatted wooden platform and leaned it against the wall. Beneath it was a trapdoor set into the floor, which he raised, revealing a hole. Lying on his belly, he reached in and pulled out a small black jar. After removing the tightly fitting lid, he beckoned to her. “Come and look.” Peering inside, Elin saw what looked like a thick, slightly yellowish paste. Joeun took a small spoon and scooped out a little. “Taste it.” Elin licked the spoon. At first, she thought it was sweet, but the sourness that followed stung her tongue and throat. “Yuck!” She stuck out her tongue and screwed up her face. An overpowering odor clung to her mouth and nose. Joeun began to laugh. “Sorry. Was it that strong? Here. Chase it down with this.” He took a jar of honey off the shelf and let her lick some off the spoon. It took away the sourness, but the smell, which slightly resembled goat’s milk, lingered in her mouth. “This is tabu chimu, or royal jelly. Bee larvae fed on this turn into queen bees.” He closed the lid tightly. “When they think it’s time for a new queen bee, the worker bees prepare special receptacles called queen cups. These are the cradles in which queen bee larvae are raised. The queen bee lays eggs in the cups and when they hatch, young worker bees come to give them royal jelly, which they secrete from their own bodies. That’s how new queen bees are raised.” He replaced the black jar of royal jelly in the hole and lowered the trapdoor. Then he grinned. “Let me tell you a secret. I can make queen bees.” Elin frowned, wondering what on earth he could mean. His grin deepened. “This is how it’s done. I take some beeswax and press it into a mold that resembles a queen cup. Then I put a frame between the part of the hive where the honey is stored and the part where the queen bee is, so that the queen can’t get into the upper part of the hive. The worker bees get quite upset by her absence. When I see that they are so anxious for a new queen bee that they can’t stand it anymore…” He stood up, went over to the shelf and came back with a slender wooden implement with a tiny scoop on the end. “I use this to extract a worker bee larva and transfer it to the queen cup that I made. As soon as I do that, the workers become very busy. When the egg hatches, they start feeding it royal jelly. A bee larva raised on royal jelly will grow into a splendid queen bee.” Elin frowned. “Really? You mean that the egg of a worker bee is identical to the egg of a queen bee?” “That’s right. The only thing that makes a difference is whether or not the bee is raised on royal jelly. Tabu chimu has a strange, magical power to transform an ordinary worker bee into a queen.” The odor that lingered on her tongue suddenly seemed very strong. Frightened, Elin stuck out her tongue and felt it. “Will my tongue be all right?” she asked. “Nothing strange will happen to it, will it?” Joeun burst out laughing. “No, no. Relax. Your tongue isn’t going to turn into a queen bee. In fact, this is what saved your life. When you were in bed with that high fever, I gave you royal jelly mixed with honey and juice to drink.” He waved the little spoon with which he had given her a taste. “You should be grateful. Tabu chimu is a powerful elixir that promotes longevity, and it’s really expensive. How much do you think that little spoonful you licked costs?” Elin drew in her breath and stared at him. He whispered dramatically, “A whole gold piece.” “Really?” She stared at him in astonishment. “A—a gold piece?” That amount of money would buy three chunks of top-grade beef the size of an adult fist. The amount of royal jelly she ate had only been as large as the tip of her baby finger. How expensive! That meant that Joeun had spent a fortune to make her better. She paled and felt her stomach grow cold. She could not possibly repay him. “Joeun…” “What is it? Don’t you feel well?” She shook her head. Her face tense, she said almost in a whisper, “Joeun … I don’t … have any money.” He looked at her in surprise. Then his face grew serious and he reached out his arms and grasped her by both shoulders. “I’m so sorry. That was stupid of me. I blabbered away without thinking.” He looked her straight in the eyes and spoke slowly and deliberately. “I have no intention of taking any money from you. I would never do something so cruel. I may not be rich, but I’m not poor either. I don’t have any family of my own to support. The amount of food you eat or the medicine you need is nothing. Don’t worry.” But his words could not reassure her. Elin’s mother had given Saju’s parents several big silver pieces in return for taking care of her. She knew that it wasn’t right to take advantage of someone who wasn’t family. But she had no home to return to. If he did not let her stay, she would have nothing to eat and nowhere to sleep. She cast down her eyes, feeling alone and helpless, and her mouth twisted as she forced back the tears that rose in her eyes. Placing both hands before her on the floor, she bowed. “I … have no home … to go back to. I have no money either.” Her voice sounded very distant to her ears. “But I can cook. And I can sew. I can take care of the goat and the horse. I will work hard … So please let me stay here.” For a moment, Joeun was at a loss for words and could only stare at the little girl, who trembled as she pressed her hands against the floor. He was amazed that someone so young would think about the need to pay him to take care of her. He had never met a child like her before. There had been plenty of ten-year-olds where he used to live, but they were innocent and carefree, ignorant of the suffering in the world and obliviously dependent on the adults around them. Were all children of the artisan class like Elin? If so, they were far more mature than the youth of the nobility or of upper-class professionals. Yet, despite her maturity, she did not seem to intuit what an adult like Joeun really felt. He had already made up his mind to take her in, yet she couldn’t see that. Almost six years had passed since a painful incident had driven him from his family and forced him to live alone as a beekeeper. There had been times when he had found this existence lonely. He had never raised a girl before, but Elin seemed more capable for her age than any of the boys he’d taught, and she was very smart. He was pretty sure he could take care of her—that is, of course, if she really was all alone in the world. Something very unusual had happened to her. He was sure of that. If he adopted her, it could lead to trouble. Rather than getting carried away by his feelings, he should probably think this over more carefully. But he was already fond of Elin, even though they had only spent three days together. He did not want to let her go. If her parents did show up and take her away, he knew that he would miss her. Yet she seemed unaware of how he felt. She kept a firm distance, seeing him as a stranger and the care he gave her as a debt that must be repaid. Just patting her on the head reassuringly would not ease her mind. “Elin,” he began, and she raised her face. “Do you know how much people pay to stay somewhere overnight when they’re traveling?” Elin shook her head, her face tense. “The price is usually a single small piece of silver … Do you know how much a child hired as a servant to work in the hall of a noble or a merchant is paid?” Again Elin shook her head. “The going rate is about fifty copper pieces, or half a small piece of silver. So if you stay and do the housework for me, you can think of your pay as fifty copper pieces. Now, the cost for lodgings, that’s for adults. For children, it’s half the price. So if you do the housework, we’d be even, because the amount you would get paid is the same as the amount you would spend to stay overnight. What do you say? Is it a deal?” Elin’s face brightened instantly, and she smiled at him. “All right, then. That settles it. Once you’re completely better, I’ll expect you to work hard, okay?” Elin nodded emphatically.
Chapter 2
45 min read