The Thirteenth Monk (Bartholomew the Adventurer Trilogy Book 2)

by Tom Hoffman

  “They are the thirteen Master Singers, Monks of the Blue Robe. You may think of them as Shapers whose thoughts are music and whose words are song – a novel concept perhaps, but not so strange once you become accustomed to the idea. The sound of their voices affects energy fields as readily as your mind does.”

  “I would love to meet them, if that is possible.”

  “It is not, I’m afraid. They are extremely reclusive and only take visitors when significant events decree it, almost always when something is negatively affecting the Infinite Chain.”

  Oliver looked up from his dinner. “The Infinite Chain... didn’t Bruno Rabbit make some mention of that, Bartholomew? Is that the chain of events containing every chain of events that can occur?”

  Song turned to Bartholomew, his eyes bright and sharp. “You are acquainted with Bruno Rabbit?”

  “I am. He moved to the City of Mandora and left me his home in a place called Pterosaur Valley on the planet Earth.”

  “Bruno Rabbit left you his house? He must think a great deal of you, Bartholomew. When Bruno Rabbit’s name is mentioned, all related events become significant. This changes everything. We must determine why Edmund’s inner voice told him to open the doorway to Nirriim. I can tell you with all certainty nothing about this was accidental. Edmund seems to be at the center of these events, so it would appear he is the one destined to meet with the Blue Monks.”

  Their dinner conversation turned to more mundane topics, including the location of several pastry shops which Oliver made plans to visit the following day. Song graciously offered one of his students as Oliver’s guide. Bartholomew chose to remain at the Singers Guild to learn more about the art of manipulating energy through song. As for Edmund, he would be paying a visit to the thirteen Blue Monks, the reclusive and mysterious Master Singers of Nirriim.

  Chapter 16

  A Song for Edmund

  Edmund gazed out his window, pondering the mice who were passing by on the street below. “There’s really no difference between Rabbitons and mice other than the shape of their bodies – and of course Rabbitons don’t eat or sleep like mice do. I wonder why mice sleep? I think I would like sleeping. Oliver always seems to look forward to it, and Bartholomew often tells Clara about dreams he had in the night. It sounds as though it would be both interesting and relaxing. Maybe it’s similar to the feeling I had when I was falling from the Adventurer II.”

  There was a knock on Edmund’s door.

  “Please excuse us, Edmund, but it is time to leave.”

  Edmund rose up from the window seat and opened the door. Song and two red robed students stood in front of him. “Good morning, Edmund.”

  “Good morning, Song. I am ready to go. I am looking forward to hearing the Blue Monks sing. I have decided to analyze the sound patterns of their voices in an attempt to discover the scientific principles behind their effect on energy fields. I believe such information would greatly interest my good friend Oliver. He is a renowned scientist in our world and is quite curious about such things.”

  Song smiled gently. “Sometimes you may gain far more by listening to a song with your heart than by analyzing its sound patterns.”

  “Hmm, I hadn’t thought of that. If I listen more deeply to the song, I shall better be able to analyze its effect on my neuronic synapses.”

  The two red robed students averted their gaze politely. Song simply nodded. “Shall we go then?”

  Song and his two students led Edmund through the narrow streets and alleys to the far end of the island, a twenty-one minute walk by Edmund’s calculations. “This is quite a lovely island. How long have the Blue Monks lived here?”

  “A good question, Edmund. No one really knows, but perhaps thousands of years. There is much we don’t know about the Master Singers. I myself have never seen them. I assure you, your visit with them today is an unparalleled honor.”

  “Ah, here we are.” They stopped in front of a fifteen foot tall stone wall of ancient design, clearly built long before the town was created. Two massive wooden doors covered with horizontal black wrought iron bands blocked their entrance to the monastery.

  Song turned to Edmund. “Edmund, you must pay close attention to what I say now. Under no circumstances must you attempt to talk to the Blue Monks, and you must avoid all eye contact with them, especially the Thirteenth Monk. He is the oldest and most powerful of all the Blue Monks. Simply stand before them, looking down at the ground in front of you. Say nothing, do nothing. The process could not be simpler. They sing, you listen. Nothing more than that. Nothing. Is this clear? There are stories of mice looking into a Blue Monk’s eyes and turning to stone.”

  “Yes, I understand. I am a Rabbiton and I will follow your instructions to the letter.”

  “Very well.” Song stepped over to the massive doors and grasped the heavy iron knocker with both paws. He banged it slowly three times, then walked away from the door, turning his back to the monastery. The two red robed students also turned away.

  With a low groaning noise the two doors swung outward, allowing just enough room for Edmund to enter. He stepped through the doorway and the doors rumbled shut behind him.

  A mouse wearing a dark red robe and hood stood before him, motioning for Edmund to follow him. They walked along a well worn stone path through an exquisite garden filled with brilliantly colored flowers. Numerous mice wearing red robes were working in the garden, pulling weeds, trimming spent blossoms, and watering. The garden was enchanting, and Edmund was sorely tempted to stop and admire its endless array of fragrant blossoms. Fortunately, he remembered Song’s stern instructions and continued on.

  At the end of the pathway stood a large stone building fashioned in the same manner as the outer monastery wall. There was no doubt in Edmund’s mind that this was a very, very old monastery. The main building was windowless, the only point of entrance being a single blue door. In the center of the door was embedded a golden eye.

  The red robed mouse motioned for Edmund to open the door and enter the monastery. Edmund nodded his thanks, lifting the heavy wrought iron latch and gently pushing the door open. With a glance behind him at the peaceful garden, he ducked down through the doorway and stepped into the monastery.

  Before him stood a massive room, by his guess at least one hundred feet wide in both directions and reaching a height of over twenty-five feet. The walls and floor were all made of river stones worn flat by centuries of use. The room was absolutely silent. Edmund had never heard such silence before. The still air had an ancient smell to it, a curious mix of musty age and sweet incense. The building at first appeared to be empty, but when he looked more carefully he caught a glimpse of something moving in the front of the room. Then he noticed the row of thirteen mice wearing bright blue robes. They were all looking directly at him.

  Edmund had never felt so anxious before. This wasn’t like his fear of the ants, it was something else. He didn’t want to make a mistake. He wanted to do everything correctly, just as Song had told him. He looked down at the floor in front of him as Song had instructed him to do. He waited patiently for the Blue Monks to start singing. He listened carefully, but heard nothing. Then he heard a shuffling, padding noise approaching him. “Oh dear, one of them is walking this way. Song will be furious with me. Perhaps I accidentally made eye contact with them.” Edmund closed his eyes tightly to make absolutely certain there would be no further eye contact. He did not want to be turned to stone. The shuffling noise stopped in front of him.

  “I like your adventurer’s hat. That’s a lovely purple feather.”

  Edmund said nothing, trying with all his might to close his eyes even tighter.

  “You may look at me, Edmund.”

  Edmund peeked out between his eyelids, wanting to look but also desperately not wanting to look. A plump old mouse wearing a bright blue robe was looking up at him with an expression of great kindness and deep concern.

  Edmund had never cried before, but he felt like crying n
ow. He didn’t know why, but he was suddenly filled with a terrible and profound sadness.

  “You are a Rabbiton and yet you wear an adventurer’s hat. Why do you wear it?”

  Edmund’s voice was very small. “It makes me feel like an adventurer. I have wanted to be one ever since I met Edmund the Explorer. I named myself after him when Morthram said I should choose a name for myself.”

  “An excellent answer, Edmund. Your friend Morthram sounds like a very wise rabbit.”

  “Yes, he is an excellent shaper, just like my dear friends Bartholomew and Clara. Bruno Rabbit gave Bartholomew the Eleventh Ring to wear. Oh dear – I shouldn’t have said that. Bartholomew asked me not to mention it to anyone.”

  “Your secret is safe with me, Edmund. You are truly lucky to have such friends as these. I believe we are ready to sing for you now. You might be more comfortable if you sit on the pillows.”

  “I didn’t see any–” The Blue Monk motioned to a large pile of soft velvet pillows which Edmund was quite certain had not been there before. He lowered himself down onto the pillows.

  The Blue Monk turned, then stopped. He looked back at Edmund as though he had noticed something new. He walked back to Edmund.

  “Would you mind if I sit with you? I would like to tell you a very short story before we sing.”

  “Of course, if that is what you wish. It’s just that... Song told me not to make any eye contact and not to talk at all.”

  The Blue Monk smiled in a way that made Edmund want to cover his mouth with his paws and giggle like a bunny. “I won’t tell Song if you won’t.” He sat down next to Edmund. “Edmund, I am the Thirteenth Monk, and I am going to tell you a story that may help you understand the true nature of the song we will sing for you. When you hear the story it may sound familiar to you, as though you have heard it before, perhaps a very long time ago when you were young, or even before then.” Edmund closed his eyes, listening to the calm, soothing voice of the Thirteenth Monk.

  “There was once a bunny who lived by the ocean. Every day he would stroll along the sandy beach and pick up thoughts which had washed ashore. He would find them in shells, under rocks, and sometimes even tangled in seaweed. "Oh, this is a good one,” he would say, “we see chaos, but if we look carefully, if we look beneath the chaos, we find order and perfection." And into his bucket the thought would go. When the bunny had reached a ripe old age he gathered all the thoughts together and placed them carefully into a large silver cauldron heated by the fires of life. Using a straw broom, he stirred them thoroughly, and as he was stirring he listened carefully. Much to his surprise he heard the ocean singing a wordless song of incomparable beauty. The bunny closed his eyes and said, “Ah, it was all worth it.”

  The Blue Monk stood up. “We will sing for you now, Edmund. It is the ocean’s wordless song of incomparable beauty. It is the song of the universe, the song of your past, the song of your future, the song of life.”

  Edmund’s eyes were still closed when he heard the first Blue Monk sing.

  Chapter 17

  Into the Light

  It was the single most perfect tone Edmund had ever heard. It was full, it was subtle, beautiful, transparent, round, and much more – an indescribably brilliant sound that seemed to pass through him, to become part of him, stirring long forgotten thoughts and memories. He recalled the first time he had met Oliver in the Central Information Repository. He had been surprised to see a rabbit of such diminutive stature, only half the size of the Elders. It was strange having friends. The more he thought about them and the more he cared about them, the less their physical appearance mattered, until the very sight of them was a joy to behold.

  “Wait – why am I thinking these thoughts? This is quite unlike me.” It was the singing, it was affecting him somehow. He would analyze the sound waves to determine exactly what they were doing so he could tell Oliver. He tried to flip open his holographic screen but realized his eyes were closed.

  A second voice joined the song, melting into the first. “Oh my, that is quite lovely. It reminds me of the four mice singing in our rowboat on the way to The Island of Blue Monks. I like adventures. I wish I could meet the Tree of Eyes. It’s fun to see so many new things and meet interesting mice like Song and the Blue Monks. At first I was afraid of the Thirteenth Monk, but he was so kind and seemed to truly care about me. Rabbitons aren’t like that. How odd. Oh dear, I’m having those thoughts again.”

  The third and fourth voices joined in, forming a complex and strikingly intricate melody, the sounds flooding into the spaces between Edmund’s thoughts. “How beautiful this music is. I could sit here and listen to it forever. Maybe if I adjust my auditory sensors it will be even clearer. Wait... what was I trying to do? Adjust... something...”

  Another memory popped into his head. A memory from the Repository. He had read a book. The distance between electrons and neutrons is the same relative distance as the space between the stars and galaxies and planets. “I am really only empty space filled with a smattering of atoms and molecules, and those atoms and molecules are really only fields of energy. The song pours into me and fills the vast and infinite empty space between my atoms with its harmony. Did I already say that?”

  Eight more Blue Monks joined in and Edmund was lost. He had left his atoms and molecules and energy fields behind and was traveling through a warm infinite darkness filled with the ocean’s wordless song of incomparable beauty. He was not fearful because he was not there to be afraid. There was no past and no future, and without future there can be no fear. He was the song, he was the music, and there was nothing else.

  The Thirteenth Monk joined in the song. Edmund saw a glimmer of light appear in the distance. He was drawn to it. He remembered Bartholomew telling him how he moved about when he was a thought cloud. He simply wished to be somewhere. “I want to go there, towards that sliver of light.” Edmund shot towards it, traveling faster and faster, through the song, through the infinite harmonies of the universe, through the darkness towards the brilliant fissure. He was there already, before he had started. He looked through the rift to a room below. It had a familiar feel about it. He knew he had seen it before, but it was so long ago. He tried to push through the crack, he wanted to see more, he wanted to remember. Edmund tumbled down into the emptiness below. He looked around in surprise, not certain what had just happened, or where he was. He felt a sharp slap on his back and a jolt of electricity shot through him.

  “Okay, my little A2 Carrier Rabbiton, time to meet your new boss, Edmund the Explorer.”

  Chapter 18

  Edmund, meet Edmund

  “Here you go, as promised, one A2 Carrier Rabbiton with upgraded internal dynamics and the optional Interworld Positioning System.”

  “Perfect. What’s its max lifting capacity?”

  “More than you’ll ever need. Almost eight tons if it needs to. If an Anarkkian transport lands on your foot this guy will be able to lift it off.”

  “Hopefully it won’t come to that. I keep hearing rumors about the war ending, but the fighting just seems to go on and on.”

  “I’ve heard the same rumors. We’re sending out dozens of ships every day packed with thousands of A6 Warriors. You’d think they’d do the job. There’s not much out there that can take the damage they dish out.”

  “The Anarkkians have their own version of the A6. It’s brutal out there on some of the worlds. I think I’m going to send Emma to Betador. Right now it’s a lot safer than Earth.”

  “What about Mandora? No way the Anarkkians can get in get there.”

  “That won’t be completed for at least another year. They’ve barely finished the island and they’re still having problems with random time fluxes. Scary.”

  “Betador it is then. Good luck to you both, Edmund.”

  “Thanks, and good luck to you too. Okay, A2, let’s roll.”

  Edmund looked down at his new body. It was identical to the one lying back in the monastery. Had he been cre
ated as an A2 Carrier Rabbiton? He had no such memories, and yet here he was. He watched Edmund the Explorer, trying to draw forth lost memories, but there was only that vague feeling of having met him, that his face seemed familiar. It was so confusing, but the Blue Monks must have sent him here for a reason.

  “Let’s go, A2!”

  “Yes, sir, Master Edmund.”

  “Good heavens, who programmed you, an A6 Warrior? Call me Edmund, and don’t trail behind me like a bunny, walk alongside me. You’ll be going on adventures with me, so we’d better get to be friends.”

  “I’ve never been on an adventure before, Edmund. You will teach me the correct protocols? I am programmed as an A2 Carrier, not an adventurer.”

  “Not to worry, A2, you’ll be a seasoned veteran in no time at all. Now, let’s head downstairs and we’ll take the gravitator car home. You can meet Emma, the love of my life, apple of my eye, and the song in my heart. It’s confusing for her to be all those things at once, I assure you. I told her I was bringing home a new Rabbiton, which means she’ll have you washing the windows and pushing a vacuumator around the house before you know it. It’s not so bad, she’s had me doing it for years. Ha!”

  Edmund flipped back and forth between his own thoughts and the thoughts of the A2 Carrier Rabbiton. He knew he was here to observe, to witness the events of his past, but his words somehow came out of the A2’s mouth. It was difficult to separate the two personalities.

  He decided right off that he liked Edmund the Explorer. None of the books he’d read had mentioned how kind Edmund the Explorer was, or what a friendly laugh he had, or how he sounded when he was talking about Emma.

  The gravitator car ride was thrilling, and it was wonderful to see the tunnels filled with throngs of Elders again, but there was a dark sense of urgency about them. Many wore military uniforms and walked with grim focus and determination. There was no doubt there was a war on.