The Chamber

By Stacie Beliveau
The night crept slowly, an agonizing journey on a troubled sea. He was used
to sailing in dangerous waters, risking life and paw in search of untold
treasures, but tonight was different. There was something in the air, he
could smell it ten leagues away, it kept his whiskers twitching.

He didn’t sleep, but spent the night listening to the night watchman pacing
the deck above. Studying the map he stole from the Pirate Mouse at the
Harbour, he vowed to kill that rat if this map was a joke, and the thought of
it kept him awake. The dawn came as red as blood on the horizon with the
call of “Land Ho” echoing through the timbers. He armed himself with sword
and pistol, and went topside to join his mates.

No sooner had he emerged from the dark recesses of his trusty ship, when
his eyes fell on the swaying palm trees and a sandy beach on a coconut
laden tropical isle. “LOWER THE BOATS”, came the cry, and with the map in
his belt he lowered himself into the rocking boat and stood at the helm while
his men rowed him ashore.

He eyed the shore before he landed, and already knew the path to take to
his destination. While the boat was secured in the sand, he walked with
purpose towards the black rock hills on the northern end, bringing one mate
with him, and a shovel. The day was young, they had plenty of time, while
the others waited at the boat and gathered coconuts and bananas and
played betting games in the sand.

He reached the point where sand gave way to rock, and found the path
marked on his map. He pushed the heavy palm fronds to the side and
stepped into a dark green canopy of lush ferns and brightly colored hibiscus.
He followed the path and was careful to keep true to the steps and markers.
His man followed at a respectful distance and enjoyed the fragrances of the
flowers and fruits around them.

He stopped. There should be a fork in this path, but there wasn’t one, and
he tried to remember if there were any times he had wondered if he should
go this way or that, but he was sure this was correct. He looked to his right
and saw nothing but a thick wall of ferns against the rock face. Using the
shovel, he poked through the ferns and was surprised when the end did not
hit rock. He followed it into the foliage, and found an entrance to a cave just
large enough to stand in.

The lantern was lit and cast a dim glow on the rock walls, but nothing would
stop him now. He was sure this map was true but the treasure better be
there. They followed the cave for half a mile, making turns left and right as
the map indicated.
This last cavern should take them to the spot, but instead they reached a
dead end. He studied the map again, looking around at the ground and
walls, whiskers twitching, nose sniffing, paws raking the soft sand. He was
confused and getting irritated, it was annoying to come so far for nothing!

“Cap’n, look!” cried the mate, pointing to the wall with his crooked finger.
“That mark, she’s no natral, Cap’n, nay, no natral a’tal!” And he was right.
Someone had scraped the wall with something very sharp, a dagger
perhaps, and it was in the shape of a chunk of cheese. “Use yer muscle,
Jones, an hit wit all yer might!” The mate stepped up, and using the shovel
like a battering ram, he struck the mark very hard….once….twice….and on
the third strike it went through to another chamber beyond. He worked fast
to clear enough space to enter, and backed up smiling to his cap’n. “Thar ye
go, cap’n, tis all yorn now.”

He held the lantern out and spied into the chamber. It was cold and
clammy, and he could hear the waves crashing on the other side of the
stone. He went all the way in and cast the dim glow all around and saw
nothing. “Here, bring th’ shovel and dig until ye die!” He wasted no time,
he knew what the captain was after, and knew he had found it, too.

He dug in the sand until his hands were bloodied, and dug some more.
Casting each shovel of sand into the corners, he sunk lower and lower as the
hole grew deeper and deeper. And with the ‘thunk’ of the shovel upon
wood, they knew at once they had reached their mark. He stopped and
looked up at the captain and smiled, showing his rotting teeth under a
twisted smile. He quickly found the edges and together they lifted a chest
up out of the hole, large enough to fill half their boat back on shore.

The captain pointed to the heavy metal lock on the front, and the mate took
the shovel and struck it with a heavy blow, shattering the lock and bringing
with it a promise of riches untold. The captain removed the broken lock,
and with both hands he raised the lid slowly to its upright position. He fell to
his knees with eyes as round as doubloons, and the mate seemed to wheeze
as his breath quickened at the sight of the treasure within.

Baskets of cheese with lucky golden shields, Super Brie packed in well-
preserved bricks, and gold that filled the chest and their lust! He was rich
beyond his wildest dreams, and he kissed the map and danced around the
chamber with glee, while his mate clapped his hands and yelled with joy. “I
be fetchin’ the men, sir, an git ye gold an treasure aboard right smartly.”
And he ran all the way back to the shore, making sure to retrace their steps
to find the chamber once more, and together they lifted the heavy burden
upon their shoulders and took it back to the ship with pride and lust, as they
knew the captain was a generous soul and would share the prize with all.
They divided the loot into goodly portions, but after all was paid to his crew
and himself, he was left with 30 Baskets with 30 Lucky Golden Shields,
4,785 pieces of Super Brie, and 305,000 in gold!!! This share was to go to
his tribe back in Gnawnia, the best group of hunters in the Realm, each one
dear to his heart.

And as they sailed back to the Harbour the Captain was able to sleep a
peaceful rest, and he dreamed of tropical islands with beautiful swaying
palm trees and colorful hibiscus flowers all in bloom.

Stacie W Beliveau
January 27, 2011