The Eleventh Ring (Bartholomew the Adventurer Trilogy Book 1)

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The Eleventh Ring (Bartholomew the Adventurer Trilogy Book 1) Page 12

by Tom Hoffman


  “Ah, a question I have been asked before. The answer is no. Ferillium is simply the name of the inn’s original owner. An odd name to be sure, but that is the truth of the matter.”

  “My thanks to you, sir. I shall no longer have that question pestering me at all hours of the day.”

  “Might I inquire how much longer you will be staying with us here at the inn?”

  “We shall be leaving for Penrith in the morning, so this will be our last night here. It has been a most enjoyable diversion from a rather distressing journey.”

  “Very good. I shall plan a special farewell dinner for our two esteemed visitors.”

  Bartholomew shivered. The cold feeling was worse than before. “Oliver, perhaps we should head upstairs and prepare for the trip tomorrow?”

  When they were back in the room, Bartholomew confessed his feeling of dread to Oliver. There was nothing he could point to as the source of this sense of foreboding, but the feeling was growing stronger. Oliver suggested it might be nothing more than a residual uneasiness from their perilous experience on The Adventurer. Bartholomew did not think so, and after some discussion they found themselves no closer to an explanation. Oliver decided he would take a nap and Bartholomew followed suit. When they arose, Bartholomew shaped them each a change of clothing and they went downstairs for dinner.

  As promised, the innkeeper had prepared a lovely meal for them. Oliver was supremely impressed with the innkeeper’s culinary expertise and they spent quite some time discussing various recipes. When they had finished the main course, the innkeeper brought out a freshly baked apple pie.

  “This is an old and secret recipe of mine, and I promise it to be an apple pie you will not soon forget.” He smiled graciously and put the pie down on the table in front of them. He cut each of them a large slice, carefully sliding it onto their plates. Then he poured a small amount of warm cream on top of the pie.

  “Enjoy, my friends. It has been a pleasure having you as our guests.” He smiled and walked around the bar into the kitchen.

  Bartholomew’s bad feeling was stronger than ever. The pie was delicious, but something was not right. He could not stop shivering.

  Oliver looked up from his empty plate. “An extraordinary pie, but I’m afraid all this food has made me quite sleepy, even after my long nap. I’m rather embarrassed to say I could take another nap this very moment.”

  Bartholomew glanced over at the two rough looking rabbits eating dinner. A dark gray thought cloud floated out of one rabbit’s ear. Bartholomew pulled the cloud across the room to him. He was instantly filled with a cruel, heartless feeling, and heard the words, “Them little rich pants rabbits will be sleeping like bunnies in another minute. They’ll be shakin’ paws with Mr. Ferillium before the day is done.”

  Bartholomew leaped to his feet. The innkeeper had drugged the pie. Oliver fell across the table with a loud thud, sound asleep. The door to the kitchen opened and a frightful face peered out. It was a shadow like the Skeezles. There was a flash of light and a white sphere appeared in Bartholomew’s paw. He raised his arm to throw it towards the two rough looking rabbits. The last thing he remembered before everything went black was someone shouting, “Look sharp, he’s a shaper!”

  Chapter 14

  Descent into Darkness

  The first thing Bartholomew became aware of was a rhythmic rattling noise and a terrible headache. Next he noticed he couldn’t move his arms. He struggled briefly, then drifted back to sleep, hoping the pain in his head would go away. The rattling sound grew louder and woke him again. This time he managed to open his eyes. He was riding in some sort of cart. He turned his head. Oliver was next to him, sound asleep, his arms and legs tied up with heavy rope. Bartholomew looked down at his own arms. He was tightly bound just as Oliver was.

  “Wakey up, little rich pants rabbit. You has a lovely nappy?”

  Bartholomew heard crude laughter from whoever was pushing the cart. He twisted his head around and saw two rat creatures who closely resembled the Skeezle brothers. He remembered the Skeezle’s words, “We are shadows, but there is no cause to be afraid.” These must be the real shadows. They were hideous. Behind them was the tall rabbit from the inn who wore the outdated clothing.

  “What are you doing with us?”

  One of the shadows pointed his paw at Bartholomew. “You goes to new working place, rich pants. No more fancy corporation or such for you. You working for Mr. Ferillium. I hope you don’t mine.”

  The second shadow burst out with high pitched screeching laugh. “I hope you don’t mine? I get joking. Is a good joking, Merkel.” He turned towards Bartholomew and said loudly, “Yeah, I HOPING YOU DON’T MINE.”

  “Ain’t so funny if you says joke a lots. Only first time is funny.”

  “Funny if I says it louder.”

  “Maybe some.”

  Bartholomew peered over the top of the wagon trying to see where they were. It looked like they were on the river road as it headed back into the canyon. Oliver began to stir.

  “Uhh... can’t move my arms. I declare, this is a very odd ––” He opened his eyes and looked at his arms. “Good heavens, why am I trussed up like some wild beast?” He managed to focus his eyes on their captors. “Who are these creatures? Hold on, it’s those dreadful Skeezle brothers. Are you still angry about that duplonium incident at your house? I will gladly reimburse you for any damage we may have caused. Furthermore, I demand you release us this instant or you shall pay dearly.”

  “Oh goodness Merkel, we is paying dearly. The fear is filled in me now.”

  “You cracking me up, Zobo. I hope you don’t MINE.”

  “No mine joking no more. It not funny now.”

  “Still funny.”

  The tall rabbit pushed his way past Merkel and Zobo.

  “Good Lord, enough of your ridiculous jabbering. Your very presence is an assault to my senses. I want to hear nothing but silence from both of you.” He looked at Oliver and Bartholomew. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am known as Mr. Ferillium. I can deeply appreciate what you must be feeling at this time. How distressing to awaken from deep slumber and find yourself tied up in a cart headed for who knows where. Fortunately, I know precisely where you are heading. You will be joining the rest of my captive workers deep underground in King Oberon’s personal ferillium mine. I’m quite certain you will simply love it there and won’t ever want to leave. You may be assured you never will.”

  Bartholomew was now fully awake. He tried to shape a pocket knife to cut his ropes but felt only a violent shock to his left ear.

  “A valiant effort, little shaper. You are unfortunately wearing a rather unique mask created by an ingenious employee of mine who also happens to be a gifted shaper. As I’m sure you have noticed, thought clouds cannot pass through it. The only thing you will produce is a rather painful shock to your ear. We will be removing this mask at a later date, but sadly it will be after you have departed from this lovely world of ours. I might add that not a single shaper in the mine has ever managed to remove their mask, and many have tried, some with rather gruesome results.”

  Bartholomew turned his head towards Oliver, who had a terrified expression on his face.

  Finally the cart creaked to a halt. Bartholomew peeked out between the slats and saw the same heavy iron door they had examined when they exited the canyon.

  Merkel and Zobo rocked the cart back and forth, tipping it over onto its side. Oliver and Bartholomew tumbled out onto the roadway. Mr. Ferillium took a large brass key from his coat pocket and opened the padlock. The iron door swung open with a loud squealing noise. Reaching his arm up behind the doorway, Mr. Ferillium pulled down the end of a heavy rope which had a long hook attached to it. The rope appeared to be wound around some sort of pulley apparatus.

  “Great heavens, you’re not going to drop us down into that ghastly hole are you?”

  “You say you are a scientist and yet you display a stunning lack of curiosity. Do you not want to
discover what lies at the bottom of the shaft? No matter, you will both find out shortly.”

  Merkel grabbed the long hook and slid it through the ropes tied around Bartholomew and Oliver’s feet, while Zobo untied the ropes binding their arms. Mr. Ferillium pulled out a silver whistle hanging from a thin gold chain around his neck. He poked his head into the doorway and blew three short bursts on the whistle. Moments later a distant clanking noise echoed up through the shaft. The rope began to tighten, dragging Oliver and Bartholomew feet first through the doorway. Oliver let out a loud yelp as they swung out into empty space several hundred feet above the bottom of the shaft.

  “Farewell, my esteemed guests. We shall meet again soon, but unfortunately it will be under far less pleasant circumstances.”

  Mr. Ferillium gave the whistle one long blast. The rope shuddered slightly and the clanking sound started up again. Bartholomew and Oliver began their long descent into the darkness below.

  After several terrifying minutes, they reached the bottom of the shaft. Bartholomew untied the ropes around his feet, then untied Oliver’s. They heard the clanking noise again and the long rope snaked back up the shaft.

  Oliver’s eyes roamed the shadowy tunnel. “What is this dreadful place? He said we would be captive workers in a ferillium mine. I daresay, I am not the least bit interested in that sort of thing. Is there some way we can escape, now that we are free of the ropes?”

  “I don’t see how. We can’t climb up the shaft, so our only option is to go in the other direction. Perhaps along the way an opportunity will present itself. I’ve tried several times to shape objects, but with no success. I’ve also attempted to remove this fiendish mask, again with no luck. It’s unnaturally strong and is attached to my head in a way that is quite incomprehensible to me. It feels as though it has become part of me.”

  Oliver sighed deeply. “I suppose you’re right. All we can do is move forward and discover what fate has in store for us. In hindsight, I do wish we had paid more attention to your feelings of dread at the inn. Theodore Rabbit was a dastardly and fiendish innkeeper. Although, in his behalf, he was also quite a marvelous chef. I sincerely believe that was the tastiest apple pie I have ever eaten.”

  There were times when Bartholomew found Oliver’s mind to be completely baffling. This was one of those times. They walked forward into the darkness, following the shaft as it sloped deep beneath the mountain range.

  The shaft seemed to go on forever. Their only sense of progress was from the distant sounds echoing up through the tunnel which gradually grew louder the farther they traveled. Finally, they saw light coming from around a curve in the tunnel far ahead. As they turned the sharp bend, the shaft dropped off unexpectedly, causing them to lose their footing and tumble down through the shaft out onto an enormous mound of straw. Bartholomew rolled off the pile of straw and looked around. They were inside a large cage made of heavy iron bars. What lay outside the cage was astonishing.

  They were sitting at the edge of the largest cavern Bartholomew had ever set eyes on. It appeared to be at least a mile or more across in both directions. There were hundreds of wooden buildings sitting on the floor of the cavern, giving it the feel of a small city. Roads were carved into the sides of the cavern, spiraling around it all the way up to the roof. He could see hundreds of rabbits walking along the roads, pushing heavy wooden carts in front of them. The cavern was lit by thousands of glowing spheres floating high above its rocky floor.

  “Oliver, I believe we have found King Oberon’s ferillium mine.”

  Chapter 15

  R75

  “Good heavens, this mine is gargantuan. I’ve studied large mining operations for the Excelsior Corporation, but they all pale in comparison to this. To think this was sitting under our feet the whole time we were at the inn. It’s quite fantastic.”

  Bartholomew was not as enthralled with the mine as Oliver was. He was more focused on finding an avenue of escape. He examined the cage but found it quite solid. Hanging from the top of the cage was a bell with a string dangling down from the clapper. “It looks as though we’re supposed to announce our arrival. I suppose we can’t stay in here forever. Shall I ring the bell or would you like to?”

  “I will let that honor be yours.”

  Bartholomew pulled the string sharply, producing a loud clanging noise. Moments later the door to a nearby building swung open and a tall rabbit emerged. It was Mr. Ferillium.

  “Ah, I see our guests have arrived.” He gave another of his exaggerated and obviously insincere smiles. “Might I ask how long you will be staying with us at the mine? Hold on a moment, I remember now, you’ll be staying here forever.” He pulled out his whistle and blew a long blast on it.

  Two shadows scurried out from the building. Bartholomew didn’t think they were the same ones who had pushed them to the mine shaft, as one of them was wearing a long blue hat. They walked over to Mr. Ferillium and one began to speak rapidly, using a curious combination of squeals, squeaks and clicking noises. Mr. Ferillium gave a loud sigh. “I am afraid your squeaks and squeals are quite incomprehensible to me. Would you care to try again?”

  The rat creature with the blue hat stamped his foot and said, “Should I take the prisoners to Bunkhouse R?”

  “Only the smaller rabbit will be going with you. The larger one stays with me. His new home is the mechanical engineering compound and his new employment is repair and maintenance of the duplonium powered diggers. I also have a number of personal projects for Mr. Oliver T. Rabbit. A great mind should not be wasted on such menial tasks as physical labor. Take the other one to Bunkhouse R. Come along, Oliver.”

  The rat creature looked at Bartholomew. “I am Fen. I strongly advise you to cause no trouble.”

  Bartholomew called out to Oliver, “Don’t lose hope.” Oliver turned to look back at Bartholomew. His face already wore a hopeless expression.

  Bartholomew walked along behind Fen as they weaved their way through the maze of wooden buildings on their way to the bunkhouse. He decided to attempt a conversation with him.

  “You’re a Grymmorian shadow?” The rat creature stopped in its tracks, then turned to Bartholomew with a terrible scowl on its face.

  “I am a muroidian from Grymmore. The word you used is despicable. If you use that term with one of the guards, they will kill you before the word is out of your mouth.”

  “Oh dear, I do apologize. I had no idea it was offensive to Grymmorians.”

  Fen gave a sniff and made a clicking noise. “Follow me.” He turned his back to Bartholomew and walked forward. After many twists and turns through the narrow alleys they finally stopped at a long structure on the far side of the cavern. Painted on the front of the building was a large letter ‘R’.

  “This is Bunkhouse R, your new home. Do not forget this. Wait here. If you try to run you will more than likely be killed by the guards.”

  Fen walked up to the door and pounded loudly on it. A moment later it was opened by a large scruffy rabbit wearing a tattered red vest and carrying a wooden stick about two feet long.

  “Fresh rabbit, eh? Bring him in.”

  Bartholomew greeted the rabbit wearing the red vest.

  “Good day to you, I am–”

  The rabbit lashed out with the stick. It made a loud cracking noise as it whipped across Bartholomew’s arm. He gave a yelp, backing away from the rabbit who had hit him.

  “You talk when I tell you. Clear?”

  Bartholomew nodded.

  “I’m called Simon, and them shadows put me in charge of Bunkhouse R. That means I’m in charge of you, rabbit. You do what I say when I say it.”

  Fen had not taken his eyes off Simon. When he had used the words ‘shadows’, Fen’s foot imperceptibly moved up and down. Bartholomew made a mental note that Fen did not think very highly of Simon.

  Fen waited while Simon signed his papers, then gathered them up, turning to leave. He looked at Bartholomew as though he was going to say something, then thought
the better of it and walked away.

  “Follow me.” Bartholomew trailed behind Simon into the bunkhouse. The main room was at least one hundred feet long, with four rows of beds running down the length of it. Each bed had a wooden chest in front of it. Bartholomew followed Simon down one of the aisles. He stopped and pointed to a bed. “You sleep here. Number 75. Don’t forget. They ask you, you’re R75. Bunkhouse R, bed 75. Clear?”

  Bartholomew nodded.

  “You work every day, seven in the morning till seven at night. Pick up your lunch from the kitchen in the morning and take it with you. Your clothes and gear is in the box by your bed. You work hard and do what them shadows says. Make me look bad and you’ll be getting worse than this stick. Clear?”

  Bartholomew nodded again. It was at that moment he knew he and Oliver had to escape.

  Simon left Bartholomew sitting on his bunk. He lay back, closing his eyes.

  “Cavern, why am I here? I didn’t abandon Oliver in The Adventurer. If I did what was right, why did you send me to this hideous underground world?”

  “Like the bouncing marbles, you are exactly where you are supposed to be. I cannot tell you more than that right now. I can only tell you not to give up hope. Remember to show kindness and respect to all living creatures. Each has its own Great Gem and it is their destiny to find it.”

  The door to the bunkhouse opened and rabbits streamed in. One by one they found their bunks and lay down. Some of them were asleep in moments. A tall, thin rabbit lay down on the bunk next to Bartholomew’s. He was wearing a shaper mask.

  “You’re a shaper?”

  “I’ve dabbled in it. And you?”

  “I suppose I am. I haven’t joined the Shapers Guild, but I have learned to shape some things. We were on our way to Penrith to look for an old childhood friend of mine when we were taken captive by the innkeeper at the Ferillium Inn.”

  “Theodore Rabbit. Many prisoners are here thanks to him. He is paid handsomely by the Grymmorians for his services.”

 

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