Young Writers Society

Running through the woods quickly, Castor arrived at a spot where a dusty trail narrowed between two massive oaks. She pulled the rope she’d been carrying off of her shoulder and looked for a good place to secure it. Her plan was simple, but a good way to get back at Kalan.

She looked around quickly. She had time, but not enough to waster by standing around. She quickly tied the rope to a sapling on the right side of the trail, and then ran to the other. She laid the rope on the ground and covered it with dirt and leaves so that it was invisible from someone coming down the path.

Castor then looped it around a tree branch and dragged it back across the trail, covering it once more in dirt and leaves. She then picked up her knife and scooted into the underbrush, waiting for Kalan to come along. He’ll enjoy this. And regret attacking me, when his face is in the ground!

A buzz behind her made her spin, and she saw a large bumblebee buzzing on a nearby flower, obviously enjoy the feast of pollen within. Just as long as you don’t sting me. Castor wasn’t sure how much time she had. Kalan had said that he was going to eat and then take the horseshoes to Mr. McTacosh. This was the only trail to the McTacosh farm, so unless Kalan decided to try to take a shortcut through the woods, he had to come down this trail. And then Castor would pull the string and trip him. It shouldn’t rough him up too bad, but it would possibly scare him.

The buzzing behind Castor was really annoying her. The hair on the back of her neck was raised. She really didn’t want the bee to come any closer. I hate bees! Get away you stupid thing! Last time she had been stung it had been a bad ordeal. Castor slowly turned as she felt something brush against her neck. But it was just a fly.

Then the bee came back. Groaning at her luck, she was about to shift positions, when she heard a horse coming. Looking through the foliage Castor made out . . . Kalan? But he’s supposed to be on foot! She couldn’t go through with it now. If she tripped the horse she could very possibly kill Kalan. She smacked her forehead and muttered nothing distinguishable. Kalan approached at a canter and Castor just stared at the place where she knew the rope was hidden. And then-

“Ow!” she yelled, standing up as something stung her neck. Then another. And a third! She tried swinging her arms back to squash the evil bug, not even realizing that she was still holding the rope in her hands. He spun on her heels and watched as Kalan’s steed clip-clopped right into the rope that was now taut, four inches above the ground.

Castor just watched, barely feeling the pain in her neck, as the horse stumbled forward onto it’s belly, and Kalan was launched like an arrow out of the saddle. He yelled and flailed his arm as he did a somersault in the air. He crashed to the ground with a hard thud. Sliced the rope from the sapling and yanked it away from the trail. With that she was off and running.

Thorns and twigs slapped her face as she ran. Now I’ve done it! Her neck stung and itched at the same time and the rope kept on catching on roots and shrubbery. Finally, nearly mad from all the pain at once, Castor tossed the rope aside, tried to itch her neck, but that just made it hurt more.

She ran withal her speed. Not again! Why do bees hate ME? What did I do to them? She finally broke out of the woods and into the village square. She hit the inn door running and headed straight for the kitchen, ignoring the stare and looks from the customers.

She spotted Miles at the fire and called to him. “I’ve been bit by some bees, where is the poultice you gave me last time this happened?”

He looked up, face white with powder. “Castor, where have you been?”

“Never mind!” she snapped. “Get me the poultice!”

“Okay, just hang on.” He wiped his hands on his apron and dashed into his room which was adjacent to the kitchen. He returned about a minute later. Castor paced back and forth as he threw some leaves and water together, making an awful-looking paste.

“Here,” he said.

She stopped moving and said: “Put it on quickly so I can get the stingers out. It itches really badly.”

Miles applied the cold and mushy moisture It somewhat relieved the pain with it’s coolness. Castor sat there, muttering to herself. Why do bees hate me! I hop Kalan isn’t seriously injured. I could have . . . but it wasn’ t my fault. So I can’t take the blame.

“Ouch,” she said, as Miles unexpectedly pulled a stinger from her neck. Then he pulled the other two. She grabbed a nearby cloth and wiped off the poultice quickly. Then she scratched the back of her neck fast and hard. After a few seconds she leaned against a counter.

“Ah, that feels better. Thanks Miles.” She ruffled his hair. “you’re a good pal.”

He smiled sheepishly. Thanks. But where have you been?”

Castor rubbed the back of her. Where have I been? “uh, I was at Ray’s house helping with laundry when some bees flew through and stung me.”

Miles seemed to accept the answer. “Are you going back?”

Castor nodded. “Yeah, I need to help her finish. Thanks for the help.”

With that she was out the door, before Miles could ask anything else. She began to make her way down the street. A lone horse was trotting down it coming straight in her direction. That was the horse Kalan was riding! Oh Triune, please no! She picked up her pace and turned left down a side street till she reached her friend Ray’s house. And she was doing laundry. Well I didn’t completely lie. She headed for the yard, trying to put Kalan out of her head.