Swarming at Greenwood
.oOo.
At the sign of the Drunken Goose…
A traveller is making a call at the inn. A tall, shaggy, very brown guy! A bit rough, if you want my opinion... Well I suppose it is not so common to welcome a man from so far away as Greenwood-the-Great!
The fellow was expected to gobble up lots of venison and have plenty of Master Gigolet's stews... Not at all! That big bearded man tastes mostly honey and butter on plain bread, raving about the virtues of wildflowers. He says it reminds him of his childhood's holy days.
Obviously we gently made fun of him. But as he has quite a bit of a hot temper. And when he angers, his appearance changes completely: he seems to become huge, aggressive, even more shaggy... A real bear!
So he's calmed down with a pot of molasses, and asked to tell some far away tale...
.oOo.
At Beorn's passage, the verdant foliage, the trees and the giant ferns, the rodents, the birds and the game, all the undergrowth life seemed to greet its master, its offspring become man by the grace of wooded spirits, for him to rule the wild forest. The humus at the feet of the great oaks, smoked in volutes with scents of sponge. The sun filtered through the dark green canopy and gilded the sylvan mist, wrapping his son with a tender scarf of light.
Following the skin-changer, the clan entered a vast space, surrounded by centenarian oaks which tall branches intertwined like a huge green roof. Their steps on the leaves carpet resounded under the protective vault, as in the great hall of a men's castle.
In the center of the clearing, shone a little piece of the clear sky. A sunshine ray passed obliquely through the opening, illuminating with its pastel brush, buzzing swarms and grass sown with ferns. A dozen trees had succumbed to the blows of some titan, leaving their stumps there, gigantic wooden thrones with folders of flowering stalks. Small bellflowers glittered the tender green grass with silver, that pierced the serrated leaves.
Beorn sat down on one of the stumps and invited the clan to approach, united in the solemn recollection of the sanctuary and the majesty of the moment. The master reigned in his kingdom, he had a sacred duty to perform.
Women and men circled him at a respectful distance. A reddish burrow burgeoned on the flank of Beorn's stump-chair, a hollow outcrop that dripped with honey. The bees were flying around this hive, indifferent to the designs of humans.
Two young people came and crouched before Beorn's throne, surrounded by their relatives. A slow chanting rose, alternately reassuringly lulling and funeral lamentation, hummed by the clan.
Beorn sat cross-legged, put his elbows on his lap and closed his eyes. The skin-changer gathered deeply, joining the song. After a few minutes, a huge bee came to rest on his strong fist, exposed above the hive. A few moments later, myriads of insects began to come out of the hive, clumping with the bees already gathered on Beorn's forearm.
.oOo.
The young couple got up and went through the clearing, picking flowers to make crowns. As the vitality of spring was swarming in the sap of the undergrowth around them, they looked in each other's eyes for the hope of a beautiful and free life in the seasons cycle. The young woman, stepping over the ferns with the grace of the lynx, brought her promised man aside, and capped him with blooming oak branches. The man crowned her in turn, with graceful bellflowers. In a knowing smile, the promised ones exchanged a honeycomb, a necklace of bear teeth and the totems of their families.
But the song of the clan, bewitching, rose again to call the couple to its test.
The giant's arm, motionless on his stump, now resembled an overgrown cluster, rustling with live fruit. Beorn supported the mass of bees without difficulty, even leaving two little red squirrels playing in his lap.
The young woman and man sat side by side cross-legged, facing the skin-changer. The song of spring was going on, calling the swarm to bless the couple who pledged to the forest laws. Slowly, the luminous cone that darted the sun through the leaves came to crown Beorn.
As if awakened by an inner call, the giant got up, extending his arms crosswise. All the members of the clan joined the psalm, imploring with fervor the mother-forest's favor.
The swarm slowly took flight - the bees left the arm to join the other fist.
After long minutes of deep recollection, each fist carried half of the swarm. A new queen had revealed herself. Then Beorn put out his arm, and at once the new swarm left to float toward the young man and woman, who united their hands to receive him.
The clan welcomed this sign with joy. Soon the half-swarm consecrated the union of the young couple, colonizing their joined hands. The newlyweds' relatives came forward to gather the feeding cluster, in a cloth woven for the occasion by the clan's children, while Beorn dismissed the remaining bees, from the fist that had called them.
An old woman, wrinkled and joyous, applied a balm to the newlyweds' hands, in order to appease the pains of the few stings the swarm had left. The couple had endured the trial together.
.oOo.
The clan escorted them to the Common House. An alcove had been arranged for them, stretched with new skins. Dried fagots of colored thistles hung on the wall, near the small window protected by a fine linen. Sheepskins covered the fresh straw of the oak bed. The skins of two large white wolves adorned the freshly matted ground.
The women of the clan came in procession to offer the pots and ointments, duly aligned on the wooden shelf, or the linen and the tissues, piled up in the ash chest, on sage and lavender. Then it was the men's turn, who had banded together to offer some tools and a beautiful ax. A few children timidly passed the curtain, the old ones with a goose feathers' bag or an oil jar, the young ones with a bowl of berries picked with their small gritty hands, for the couple's wedding night.
Both families, after handing over their presents, were exchanging congratulations on the threshold: it had been a beautiful wedding! But everyone was waiting for the high point of the day: the present of the clan leader!
But Beorn was gone. He had been seen for some time in the forest, mumbling for himself in his shaggy beard. A sign that something was wrong...
The skin-changer did not return to the village until nightfall. The clan had dispersed, but the family waited, deceiving their annoyance by passing treats and mead.
The giant went up to the Common House, carrying on his back a beautiful chestnut tree stump. The newlyweds' relatives looked at each other uncomfortably...
Without saying anything, Beorn put the stump in front of the clan hearth. The wood fell with a thud-it must have weighed two hundred pounds.
Leaving everyone speechless, Beorn turned on his heels, went down the hall and left the Common House.
That was an ill omen.
The two families began to look anxiously at each other. The men were wondering - had someone displeased the clan leader? Was he going to offer... a bonfire? But women tried to keep trust - or at least some hope.
.oOo.
Indeed, Beorn returned with his toolbox. Everybody breathed again.
Still without saying a word, the giant settled in front of the stump, and began to prepare it, removing the bark. Then he cut, evaded, squared, straightened, polished, taped, and started again and again.
When the family finally understood what the skin-changer was doing, all joined the work. The newlyweds were relegated to their room – surely they had something else to do! As you can imagine, they could not get any shut-eye, for all through the wedding night sounded the roar of the saw, the shock of the chisel, the screech of the plane, the boiling of the resin glue, the calls for help to set up difficult parts, not to mention libations during breaks!
But in the early morning, enthroned before the hearth of the clan, finally silent, a magnificent chestnut sculpture, huge, masterly shaped as a small Common House, with a portal for entrance and a high central fireplace.
Everyone had put one's small personal detail - engraving here a small window, carving there a pretty hoof, finishing with a piece of bark in the shape of a warg skin...
It was the first hive for newlyweds, source of any wealth within the bear-clan.
.oOo.
