Egdod beat his wings mightily as he settled to a perch on the tower’s top. The blast of air dispersed the swarms of bees and sent many of the souls reeling, or knocked them flat to the ground. The odor he had noticed was stronger here. He saw a soul not far away who had adopted a curious pose, squatting on his haunches with his hindquarters only a small distance above the grass. A jet of brown fluid emerged from him and stained the ground below, and Egdod knew that this was the source of the bad smell. And he understood where it had come from.

“From ones who have eaten honey, some of you have heard tell of the pleasures to be gained thereby,” Egdod announced, making his voice very loud. “I say to you that there is truth in it, and that to enjoy such pleasures is in all of us. But to steal it from the bees is to introduce a kind of wrongness to the Land that goes against all of the past efforts that I have made to better it. It is in the bees’ nature to require honey, but it is not in yours. There is however another means of getting food, which does not entail the crushing of bees, or taking from those that have a requirement for food above mere self-pleasuring. The fruits of it are winging your way even now from the Garden.” And he extended a hand toward the Palace. The souls turned their heads that way to see Ward, Freewander, Speaksall, Thingor, Longregard, Greyhame, and Knotweave flying toward them heavily laden with baskets.

“Of the apple tree in my Garden you shall eat, if eat you must,” Egdod proclaimed. “The bees you shall not molest. Rather, look to the bees as models to shape your own way of doing things in the future.”

Thus the bees of the tower were saved by the actions of Egdod, and the souls of Town enjoyed a feast of apples, and knew what it was to taste and to eat. Later they knew too what it was to shit. Those souls who had strong arms for delving went to work digging holes for that purpose, and up on the top of the hill Egdod fashioned some holes that were very deep indeed, so that the odor of the shit would not trouble his nostrils as he enjoyed the beauty of the Garden.

Chapter 35

Chapter 35