Candlewife Relit

My story Candlewife returns, as two page sheet, readable text and also read aloud by the author. It's possible that this is in preparation for another publication.

If you would like to know more about this, the liner notes are online. 

Bees are nothing to fear. If the village had understood that – if one maiden of the village had asked and thought for herself rather than repeat the gossip and rumours of her chattering friends – if, in fact, the world was other than it was, well then, all this might never have occurred. But the world is as it is, maidens are as they are and bees are nothing to fear.

The beekeeper knew that bees are nothing to fear, and that if you treat them well they will be your friends. Wax and honey of course, the mere gross produce of their labours. They fly from flower to flower, taking pollen to fertilise and so produce fruit on those plants that are so inclined, nuts on others, seeds and acorns where that is the habit of the grass or tree.

The village did not understand that. A child had been stung by a bee once and had run and hid in the well and was pulled out half-drowned and so the bees were shunned and their keeper with them.

The beekeeper had had a wife but she died in the winter, despite all the honey poultices and sweet-smelling herb candles he applied to save her. So it was a lonely life, made strange by the use of smoke and the hat and the veil.

The beekeeper tried to speak to the village maidens but they just laughed and hid their faces, and bullied their brothers to go up to the hives when they needed honey or wax. Their fathers came to discuss putting the bees to the orchards and changed the subject when the beekeeper mentioned that he might be seeking a partner. The widows and spinsters laughed at his clumsy courting and put him off; a man used to the dance of the bees, he did not know that of the humans.

He might have lived alone and then we would have no tale to tell but the bees chose for him. In the height of summer they swarmed for him and danced and taught him many things. So it was that he gathered the wax, purified it, imbued it with a secret mixture and danced around it at the full moon.

A wick made of linen and of hair from a locket and threads from the old wedding dress, when lit she came alive and was his candlewife. Now you might think that a candle, no matter how big, even as big as a good-sized woman, would burn down to nothing in a handful of nights. You might think that. With magic and will and patience, the flame low and steady, and when she started to look a little melted, a handful of wax to repair the worst spots, she might last for a lifetime. And if you think that strange and unnatural then I ask you to look to your own families and say, is what we do so very different?

So how long did she last? All through the winter he would light her in the evening and she would work with him draining the honey and pouring it into casks, refining the wax, then spending the last of the day quietly, as companions, as a man and wife and I do not need to tell you about that.

And so he thought they might live, she being a true wife to him. Yet she was wiser than he, perhaps with the wisdom of the bees, who live only for the seasons they are allotted. The magic that had woken her was to be a wife in all things, according to the oaths sworn before everyone in the village, and to break the spell was to invite a terrible consequence.

So when the spring came and the bees woke again there came the day when the light and dark were in balance. And the beekeeper and the candlewife spent the night together and her flames burned bright.
In the morning she was gone and yet the beekeeper was not alone.

But time has got on and I will finish there, for that is all there is of the tale of the candlewife. Yes yes, there is more to tell, more on the bees and the foolishness of maidens. Every tale leads to another, yet some time we must stop telling.

So we are done for tonight. But if you return tomorrow I may have another story for you, the tale of the Beekeeper’s Daughter and the Giant’s Heart. There. That’s something to look forward to isn’t it? Now go to your own homes and sleep well.