She reached in and even as the stout man gasped aloud, she drew out her hand, gloved with moving bees. She closed the lid of the hive and then stood. She looked down at the bees coating her hand and said quietly, ‘The one with the red beard, little ones.’ Then she held her hand out as if offering them as a gift. It took a moment, but as each bee took flight, it unerringly sought out Red-beard. He flinched as first one and then another buzzed past him, and then came back, circling.
