Maculatus tried to regain his feet but failed. The blow had sent him flying and the landing dazed him severely. He craned his head and looked about him. The scene he saw was vivid but meaningless through the cloud of fog that seemed to have overcome his mind.

Cloud. Yes, that was a cloud there. A deadly cloud of poisonous gas that endangered his town and his beautiful queen. The queen he had been born to serve. Born and bred quite literally, as were all the warriors of Vespulica. The queen was in danger! The urgency of that thought banished the cobwebs from his mind and the last moments came back to him with frightening clarity and speed.

He had been in the nursery guarding the younglings and their keepers, partially secluded in a niche by the main doorway where he could intervene at any time but remained out of the way of the busy nannies. It was boring work as there was really nothing in Vespulica that would threaten the little ones but Maculatus never complained about the duty. Tradition and order were the bywords of his warrior caste.

His shift had been nearly complete and he was looking forward to a dinner in the commons and some long overdue sleep when the world shook. He was knocked from his niche and sent sprawling. Again the world shook, knocking the warrior about and sending him crashing into one of the caretakers. He righted himself, bracing for another shock and looking about the nursery. It was a shambles with little ones flung helter skelter from their beds and the dozens of keepers frantically trying to reassure and restrain them.

He felt as much as heard a deep hum rising about him. Through the walls, floor and ceiling it came, a basso rumble that sent his adrenaline rising to match a growing fury. It was the Hymn of Battle, a call to arms to defend Vespulica. The city itself was under attack.

He abandoned the nursery. There was nothing he could do there and his place was in the battle formations of his brethren. He could not have stayed long in any case as the Hymn was now inducing the battle fury, an inbred response that was as impossible to control as the tides or the wind. He felt the vibrations of the Hymn entering his body, his very soul, and light his blood afire. His vision turned red as he entered an almost berserk state, barely able to see the twists and turns of the corridors as he rushed to the ramparts of the city. When he finally emerged he was in full fury and ready to fight the world.

Or a giant. The sight that greeted him almost broke the rage, it was so frightening. A giant, larger by far than the great city of Vespulica itself was before him. The monstrous creature was armored from head to toe in the color of a stormy sky and it breathed a cloud of green death. Maculatus launched himself from the ramparts and rushed to attack the beast. It was all that saved his life as the deadly cloud enveloped the great city. As he closed on the giant he heard the tortured screams of hundreds of his warrior kin. The fell from the ramparts by the score, dead or dying in incredible agony from the venomous poison set upon them.

He reached the giant at last and thrust his lance with all his might. It didn't even penetrate the folds of the monster's armor. He thrust again and again with no success. He was powerless! He could better chew his way through that armor than try to pierce it. But wait, there was another option. He looked up. Way, way up, to the head of the devil itself. The armor on its head was of the same stuff as that on its legs but was much looser. There were gaps around its neck. Gaps big enough for a warrior to squeeze through.

He climbed as fast as he could, accompanied by fewer and fewer death cries of his comrades-in-arms. They were failing and failing fast. He was almost deperched when the giant swung its massive club at the city walls but he managed to hold on and continue his climb. Again and again the evil creature swung its club, smashing to wreckage the glorious city of Vespulica.

It seemed like hours but was probably only minutes when he reached the beast's Achilles heel, the gap in its armor. Struggling mightily he worked his way inside until he found his target - the unprotected neck of the giant. With a mighty cry Maculatus plunged his lance into the naked flesh of his nemesis. Again and again and again. The bellow of the giant was terrific in its intensity and Maculatus redoubled his efforts. It was working! He was hurting the fiend!

That was the last he remembered but the scene before him now was easy enough to interpret. The giant's head armor was in its hand, obviously removed so it could deal with Maculatus' attack. His own broken and twisted body attested to how definitively the giant had responded. The surviving warriors were harrying the beast now and they had something to attack thanks to Maculatus' sacrifice. The great creature was stomping about and swinging its terrible mace blindly trying to fend off the warriors of Vespulica. They drove in again and again, driving the monster away from the shattered city until finally the demon-spawn had enough and turned to race away.

His broken body leaching its lifeblood to the ground, Maculatus looked up one last time at the proud city of Vespulica. It was horribly damaged but unlike Maculatus it could be fixed. Already there were workers clambering over the walls effecting repairs. Most importantly the Queen, the soul of the city herself, was safe. Maculatus heaved a great sigh of relief and gratitude. The Queen lived. He had honored his oath to protect her with his life and it had not be for naught. He was not forsworn.

And then Maculatus saw no more.

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EPILOGUE

Jerry ran into the shed and slammed the door behind him, still swinging his bat. "Just put on your ski mask, she says" he yelled out. He followed that with several expletives and an "All you have to do is get close enough to use the Raid, she says", followed quickly by "You have to get rid of them before the swing set is delivered, she says".

Jerry opened the little fridge and took out a beer. Instead of opening it he put it on his neck and let the cool can sooth the stings he had there. He plopped down in one of the many lawn chairs lying about and let out a huge sigh.

"Fucking yellow jackets!"

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POINTS: Points are back! Yay! There are three pun-type deelios in this entry. First ones to find and explain them get points.