El Torre de las Mieles

El Torre de las Mieles

A Short Story by Daniel Moya

The clouds, like the knight's midsection, began to part, and the waxing crescent moon blessed the beech trees with radiant light. Rain that had once been falling in sheets now gently tinked against his tarnished armor. Fresh blood oozed from the wound in his side and dribbled into the shallow brook through which he stumbled, tainting it garish red. Death's hand was outstretched, itching for one final dance, but the knight, at least for the moment, refused. He pressed forward, deeper into the forest, determined to reach his destination. Their waltz would have to wait.

Despite his sluggish movements, the knight eventually came upon a fork in the brook. It had been a considerable amount of time since he had last seen it, and so he had forgotten which pathway led to the steps he searched for. The forest had changed greatly since his childhood, so much so that he hardly recognized it. This made navigation difficult.

His eyes slowly drifted between each path, unsure of which to take, but with time and vigor running thin, he was prompted to take the easier path with less riparian overgrowth. He limped forward, towards his chosen path, but was stopped in his tracks by a small, plump bumblebee that floated down from the forest canopy and perched itself upon the hilt of his spadone. Both compound eyes bored into the knight as it tilted its head. One antenna was missing, and upon the bee's thorax was a bright yellow splotch. Recognition flashed across the knight's face.

"Huh… Leopoldo?!" whispered the knight, elation in his voice. "What happened to you! Where's your antennae, you little rascal?"

Leopoldo lowered his head in embarrassment. Clearly sensitive about the topic.

"Don't tell me you visited that robin's nest again?"

The bee, as if irked by the knight's questions, angrily buzzed a reply and quickly spun around, refusing to look at him. He had, in fact, revisited that exact robin's nest. A strained chuckle left the knight's lips.

He winced as he removed his gauntlets; the leather straps were taut, making the action difficult, but, in time, they fell into the brook with a splash. Both hands were drenched in blood. Using a small piece of the clothing between the kinks in his armor, he wiped his right little finger clean. Trembling, he hovered his right hand above Leopoldo and, with the utmost care, began to caress his little head. The bee paid little heed as it was still cross with the knight.

"Oh, Leo, what are we going to do with you? Always such a troublemaker..."

A tiny drop of blood fell from the knight's palm and onto the small yellow spot on the bee's thorax, staining it orange. Startled, Leopoldo turned to face the knight once more. His breaths had become sparse and shallow. Every piece of armor, from the links in his chain mail to his helmet, shook as if his legs could hardly support the weight he carried.

Leopoldo realized his dear friend was dying.

Ironically, the knight's knees buckled, and soon after, he collapsed, face-first, into the water. The sallet that had been placed upon his head bounced off into the mud, startling a freshwater crab that had been burrowed there. Leopoldo, after regaining his balance, landed on a clump of chrysanthemums that had taken root on the bank of the brook. Their petals swayed gently in the breeze, a breath away from the knight's face, which had changed considerably since their last interaction years ago. Back then, it had been a beautiful light brown, and in place of the scars he now bore were a set of freckles. His hair, albeit messy, had been rich and full of curls. Now it was matted with blood and sweat. Yet, despite all this, he smiled, delighted to see his friend again. And although it must have been terribly hard for him, he lifted his hand once again and delicately patted the bee's head.

"Oh, how I've missed you, my dear friend," mumbled the knight. "I'm terribly sorry we didn't visit more often. You'll forgive us, won't you?"

Leopoldo, still upset from earlier, flicked his antennae in disapproval. He was not in a forgiving mood.

"Oh, come on, Leo. Don't be like that," sighed the knight.

The bee remained motionless.

"You're killing me here…"

Nothing.

"Fine…"

The knight groaned as he painstakingly lifted himself out of the brook and sat himself next to the bunch of flowers Leopoldo occupied. By some miracle, the contents inside a satchel the knight had been carrying were undamaged. He lifted the flap, dug inside, and brought out a small jar containing a bunch of small white flowers: honeysuckles. At this, the little bug began to stamp its feet in excitement and then burst into the air! Honeysuckle did not grow in this part of the country. This was a rare delicacy for the bumblebee.

When Leopoldo had finished his little fiasco in the air, he landed on the knight's cheek and rubbed his head against it—a kiss of gratitude. A forgiving mood had seized him. The knight let forth a hearty laugh, and a bit of the color returned to his face. He popped the lid of the jar, carefully took out one of the flowers, and happily watched as Leo enjoyed his fill of the nectar within it.

"You are the same as ever, my friend!" exclaimed the knight, half laughing.

"Tell you what," he said while placing the lid back on the jar, "If you guide me to the tower, all of these," he shook the jar, "can be yours!"

Leopoldo, repelled by this proposition, showcased his immediate displeasure by biting the knight, who let out a yelp. However, upon realizing that he was completely incapable of opening the jar without hands, he decided that it was in his best interest to help him. They were friends after all.

Leopoldo, with newfound fervor, flew in the direction of the pathway enveloped in vegetation. He positioned himself on a birch tree near the entrance and beckoned the knight forward with a sharp buzz; He didn't have all night. The knight sighed, frustrated that the more troublesome path had ultimately been the correct choice. Pain seared through his body as he slowly picked himself up and unsheathed his sword. It felt impossibly heavy within his grasp and yet he swung the steel with unbelievable conviction. Although it wasn't much, even Leopoldo nibbled on the vines blocking their path. A move the knight greatly appreciated.

By the time they emerged from the path, the moon had reached its zenith. Its rays cast a heavenly glow upon the quiet pond that the brook fed into. Water striders zoomed across its surface creating small ripples that disturbed the moon's reflection. At the opposite end of the pond was the side of an enormous white cliff and carved into it was a set of steps. The exact ones the knight had been desperately searching for. Even though he was utterly exhausted, a smile broke across his face.

Without a second thought, the knight threw himself into the pond. It was surprisingly shallow, he remembered it being deeper. He began wading his way through to the opposite end. Leopoldo hitched a ride on his head. Blood mixed with the water, turning the once white reflection of the moon a deep, visceral red.

Upon reaching the other side, the knight hoisted himself up onto the steps and eagerly shuffled his way up the staircase. His ascent had been slow at first but he gradually sped up as excitement seized him. When the knight had reached the last few steps, he broke out into an agonizing sprint, desperate to reach the top. At long last, they'd see each other again.

___________________________________________________________

At the top of the cliff rests the fabled tower known throughout the land as El Torre de las Mieles: The Tower of Honey. It is an immense construction of black stone hidden within the confines of the Irati forest in Spain. Atop its crooked spire is a broken weathervane of a bumblebee. Wrapped around its many bricks is a vine that produces a magnificent white flower. In the spring, when the weather is perfect and the flowers bloom, honey bursts forth from their centers and gently falls to the forest floor in beautiful golden cascades. A truly magnificent sight.

Although many men and women have searched for the famous tower, none have ever found it. That achievement rests with a pair of children. Children who are now grown.

A short while after the knight had reached the tower, a beautiful woman in tattered clothing arrived. She too had been looking for the tower. Her memories of the place were nothing but a blur but, somehow, she had found her way.

She was expecting to meet someone there but was met with nothing but a corpse. In their hand was a jar of untouched honeysuckles with the lid removed. Upon their cheek was a small bumblebee. There it sat motionless, refusing to move. How strange… the woman thought. Leopoldo loves honeysuckles. The woman wept and her tears fell to the forest floor like the honey that dripped from the tower.