After a discussion with Vik (Vik Tory Arch) about bees (she happened to mention she’s part of a beekeeping business). The subject of warrior bees came up, and it probably won’t surprise you to hear I was inspired to write a story! I did a little research, but for those who are knowledgeable about bees, I apologise for any mistakes in the tale 🙂
Life can be hard. When you’re responsible for a whole colony and the fate of the queen rests on your shoulders, it can be tough. Okay, so I’m elevating my position a little, but it’s how I feel.
I’ve worked hard all my life, which granted has only been several weeks by human standards. Yet in the life of a bee, I’ve chalked up quite a few hours.
Today I’m on guard duty, and it’s not my favourite way to spend the day.
Brittany sauntered past me, shaking her derriere in a happy dance. I looked away from her signals, bored out of my mind. An arrogant rumble came from Bart, who was lounging in his usual position, affecting an authority he doesn’t possess. All he’s good for is mating and when he’s fulfilled that role he’ll be out on his ear.
A flutter of activity caught my attention to the left and Bart was forgotten. It was the wasps. Again. They were always vying for the amber nectar, the honey we worked so hard to produce.
I glared at Winston, the one who’d been sniffing around for days and felt a trickle of indignant rage. He’d brought his friends to the party.
Signalling to my sisters we formed a barrier to the hive, prepared for battle.
Winston and his goons dived, going for gold.
In a flurry of activity we attacked. We might have been on the defensive, but this was our home and we would protect it until the death. Protect our sisters, our mother, our right to exist.
It was a massacre; biting, stinging and fighting with everything we had. I’m not sure when the tide turned, but as I saw Winston’s spent body drop out of sight, his few remaining compadres beat a hasty retreat.
I scanned the hive, counting our losses. My eyes fell on Bart’s prone body and I quickly worked out what had happened. He’d been protecting the queen and though he didn’t have a sting, he had a pair of fierce looking mandibles.
I buzzed around him, humbled by his honourable death. He wasn’t a useless piece of ass after all.
Thanks for reading
Mel
Melissa Barker-Simpson 
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