King Solomon's Diamonds (Order of the Black Sun Series Book 18)

by P. W. Child

  “Well, where are these diamonds, then? I am sure I can try to help you excavate them before the Wizard – ,” he said.

  “Magician, sir,” Ofar’s voice shivered.

  “Sorry. Magician,” Purdue corrected his fault swiftly, “finds them.”

  Prof. Imru stood up, motioning for his stargazing allies to take a moment. “You see, Mr. Purdue, that is the problem. Many of King Solomon’s diamonds had been scattered among the well-to-do – the kings, heads of state, and collectors of rare jewels throughout the centuries – and thus the Magician has resorted to cons and murder to obtain them one by one.”

  “Oh my God,” Nina muttered. “That is like a needle in a haystack. How will we ever find them all? Do you have records of the diamonds we are looking for?”

  “Regrettably not, Dr. Gould,” Prof. Imru lamented. He uttered a silly chuckle, feeling foolish to even bring it up. “As a matter of fact, the watchers and I were humorously teasing that Mr. Purdue was rich enough to buy the respective diamonds out, just to save us all the trouble and the time.”

  Everyone chuckled at the hilarious absurdity, but Nina watched the mannerisms of the Master Mason, knowing full well that he was putting forth the suggestion with no expectation, save for Purdue’s extravagant risk-taking innately prodding. Again, she kept the supreme manipulation to herself and smiled. She looked at Purdue, trying to caution him with a glance, but Nina could see that he was laughing a bit too hard.

  No fucking way, she thought. He is actually considering it!

  “Sam,” she said, in the din of the merriment.

  “Aye, I know. He is going to bite at that bait and we cannot stop him,” Sam replied without looking at her, maintaining his laughter in an effort to look oblivious.

  “Sam,” she repeated, unable to formulate a retort.

  “He can afford it,” Sam smiled.

  But Nina could not keep this to herself anymore. Promising herself to state her opinion in the most amicable and respectful way, she rose from her seat. Her petite frame challenged the giant shadow of Prof. Imru against the wall of the Masonic Temple in the blaze of firelight between them.

  “With respect, Professor, I think not,” she argued. “It is not feasible to resort to common financial trade where the items are of such value. Dare I say, it is preposterous to imagine such a thing. And I can almost assure you, from experience, that the ignorant, wealthy or not, do not easily part with their treasures. And we certainly do not have the time to locate them all and engage in tedious bartering before your Magician finds them.”

  Nina made sure to keep her tone to the side of suggestion, her voice light to imply that she was merely proposing a faster method, while in fact she opposed the idea completely. The Egyptian men, not men accustomed to even entertaining a woman’s presence, let alone allowing her to join in the discussion, sat mute for a long moment while Purdue and Sam held their breath.

  To her utter surprise, Prof. Imru replied, “I do agree, Dr. Gould. It is quite absurd to expect, let alone to execute in time.”

  “Look,” Purdue started in on the joust, adjusting himself to sit on the edge of his seat, “I appreciate your concern, my dear Nina, and I do agree that it seems far-fetched to do such a thing. However, one thing I can attest to, is that nothing is ever cut and dried. We can employ various methods to attain what we want. In this case, I’m sure I could approach some of the owners and make them an offer.”

  “You are shitting me,” Sam exclaimed casually from the other side of the table. “What is the catch? There has to be one or you have lost your marbles, old man.”

  “No, Sam, I am quite sincere,” Purdue assured him. “Hear me out, people.” The billionaire turned to face his host. “If you, Professor, could gather information on those few parties who possess the stones we need, I could get my brokers and legal people to procure those diamonds for a fair price without bankrupting me. They will draw up certificates of ownership after an appointed expert verifies their authenticity.” He gave the professor a steely look, dripping with confidence the likes of which Sam and Nina had not seen in their friend in a long while. “That is the catch, Professor.”

  Nina smiled in her little corner of shadow and fire, nibbling on a piece of flatbread while Purdue made his deal with his former opposition. “The catch is that after we have foiled the Magician’s errand, King Solomon’s diamonds are legally mine.”

  “That’s my boy,” Nina whispered.

  At first shocked, Prof. Imru gradually realized that it was a fair proposition. After all, he had not even heard of the diamonds before the stargazers discovered the chicanery of the sage. He was well aware that King Solomon had possessed gold and silver in exuberant volumes, but he was unaware of the king holding diamonds, per se. Apart from diamond mines discovered in Tanis, in the northeastern region of the Nile delta and some accounts of more sites possibly accountable to the king, Prof. Imru had to concede that it was new to him.

  “Do we have a deal, Professor?” Purdue pressed, looking at his watch to urge the answer.

  Wisely, the professor agreed. However he had some conditions of his own. “I think that is very reasonable, Mr., Purdue, as well as helpful,” he said. “But I have a counter-proposal, of sorts. After all, I too, am only assisting the Dragon Watchers in their pursuit to avert a terrible celestial catastrophe.”

  “I understand. What do you suggest?” Purdue asked.

  “The remaining diamonds, those not in the possession of opulent families throughout Europe and Asia, those will become the possession of the Egyptian Archaeological Society,” the professor insisted. “Those your brokers manage to intercept are yours. What say you?”

  Sam frowned, tempted to whip out his notebook. “In which country will we find these other diamonds?”

  The proud professor smiled at Sam, folding his arms happily. “Conveniently, Mr. Cleave, we believe that they are interred in a cemetery not far from where you and your colleagues will be conducting that awful official business of yours.”

  “In Ethiopia?” Adjo spoke for the first time since he’d started stuffing his mouth with the delectable foods in front of him. “They are not in Aksum, sir. I can assure you. I spent years working on dig sites with various international archaeological teams in that region.”

  “I know, Mr. Kira,” Prof. Imru said firmly.

  “According to our ancient texts,” Penekal revealed with great ceremony, “the diamonds we seek are reputedly buried within the monastery on the holy island in Lake Tana.”

  “In Ethiopia?” Sam asked. At the solemn frowns he received, he shrugged and explained, “I’m Scottish. I don’t know anything about Africa that was not in a Tarzan movie.”

  Nina smiled. “Lake Tana is said to have an island where the Virgin Mary allegedly took rest on her way from Egypt, Sam,” she elucidated. “It was also reputed to have been the home of the real Ark of the Covenant before it was brought to Aksum in AD 400.”

  “I am impressed by your historian’s knowledge, Mr. Purdue. Maybe Dr. Gould could work for the People’s Movement for the Protection of Heritage Sites sometime?” Prof. Imru grinned. “Or even for the Egyptian Archaeological Society or the Cairo University, perhaps?”

  “Perhaps as temporary advisor, Professor,” she gracefully declined. “But my love is for modern history, specifically German history of the Second World War.”

  “Ah,” he replied. “Pity. It is such a gloom-riddled, cruel era to give one’s heart to. Dare I wonder what it betrays about your heart?”

  Nina raised an eyebrow, delivering a quick reply. “It betrays only that I am wary of historical events repeating themselves where I am concerned.”

  The tall, dark-skinned professor looked down on the contrasting marble-skinned, small doctor, his eyes filled with true admiration and geniality. Purdue was afraid of another cultural ball-busting from his beloved Nina, so he interrupted the minor bonding experience between her and Prof. Imru.

  “Right then,” Purdue clapped hi
s hands together and smiled. “Let us get started first thing in the morning.”

  “Aye,” Nina agreed. “I am dog tired and the flight lag has not done me any favors either.”

  “Yes, the climate change is quite aggressive from your native Scotland,” the host agreed.

  They took leave of the meeting in high spirits, leaving the old astronomers relieved for the help and Prof. Imru elated for the ensuing treasure hunt. Adjo stepped aside for Nina to lead the way to the taxi, while Sam caught up to Purdue.

  “Did you get all that on tape?” Purdue asked.

  “Aye, the whole deal,” Sam confirmed. “So, now we are stealing from Ethiopia again?” he asked innocently, finding it all ironic and humorous.

  “Yes,” Purdue smiled deviously, his answer confusing all in his company. “But this time, we are stealing for the Black Sun.”

  25

  Alchemy of the Gods

  Antwerp, Belgium

  Abdul Raya came walking down the busy street in Berchem, a quaint neighborhood in the Flemish region of Antwerp. He was on his way to the home business of an antique dealer named Hannes Wetter, a Flemish connoisseur obsessed with precious stones. His collection included various ancient pieces from Egypt, Mesopotamia, India, and Russia, all adorned in rubies, emeralds, diamonds, and sapphires. But Raya cared little for the age or rarity of Wetter’s collection. There was but one piece he was interested in, and of that piece, he needed only a fifth of it.

  Wetter had spoken to Raya on the phone three days prior, before the floods began in earnest. They had arranged an eccentric amount for the impish effigy of Indian origin that Wetter had in his collection. Although he insisted that this particular piece was not for sale, he could not refuse Raya’s bizarre offer. The customer had discovered Wetter on eBay, but from what Wetter had learned from speaking with Raya, the Egyptian knew much of ancient art and nothing about technology.

  Everywhere in Antwerp and Belgium, the flood alarm was rife after the past few days. All along the coastline, from Le Havre and Dieppe in France across to Terneuzen in the Netherlands, homes were being evacuated as the sea level continued to rise without cause. With Antwerp sandwiched in the middle, the already flooded landmass of the Drowned Land of Saeftinghe had been lost under the tides already. The rest of the towns, like Goes, Vlissingen, and Middelburg, were also beneath the waves, all the way north to The Hague.

  Raya smiled, knowing he was the master of the mystery weather channels and authorities could not unravel. Throughout the streets, he continued to pass people in frantic conversation, speculating and terrified of the still rising ocean soon to flood Alkmaar and the rest of Northern Holland within the next day.

  “God is punishing us,” he heard a middle-aged woman say to her husband outside a coffee shop. “This is why this is happening. This is a wrath of God.”

  Her husband looked as shaken as she, but he tried to find some solace in reasoning. “Matilda, calm down. Maybe it’s just a natural phenomenon the weather people could not pick up on those radar things,” he implored.

  “But why?” she persisted. “Natural phenomena are caused by the will of God, Martin. This is divine punishment.”

  “Or divine evil,” her husband muttered, to his religious wife’s horror.

  “How can you say that?” she shrieked, just as Raya walked by. “What reason would there be for God to send evil upon us?”

  “Oh, I cannot resist that one,” Abdul Raya exclaimed aloud. He turned in his steps to join the woman and her husband. They were dumbstruck by his peculiar look, his claw-like hands, his sharp, bony face and sunken eyes. “Madam, the beauty of evil is in that, unlike good things, evil needs no reason to sow destruction. It is in the very essence of evil to willfully destroy for the sheer thrill of it. Good day.” As he sauntered off, the man and his wife stood frozen in shock, mostly at his revelation, but definitely for his appearance as well.

  On television channels everywhere warnings were sent out, while reports of flood deaths joined company with other reports from the Mediterranean basin, Australia, Southern Africa and South-America of threatening floods. Japan lost half of its population while a myriad of islands were sinking under the sea.

  “Oh, wait, my darlings,” Raya sang merrily as he approached the home of Hannes Wetter, “it is a curse of water. Water is found everywhere, not just in the sea. Wait, the fallen Kunospaston is the water demon. You could drown in your own bath tubs!”

  This had been the latest star to fall, as observed by Ofar after Penekal heard of the rising sea levels in Egypt. But Raya knew what was to come, since he was the architect of this chaos. The emaciated Magician sought only to remind mankind of their insignificance in the eyes of the Universe, the uncountable eyes that glinted down upon them every night. And for good measure, he enjoyed the power of destruction he controlled and the juvenile thrill of being the only one who knew why.

  Of course, the latter was but his opinion of matters. The last time he’d imparted knowledge on mankind, the Industrial Revolution had come of it. He had not had to do much after that. Men discovered science in a new light, engines replaced most transport, and machinery needed the blood of the Earth to keep running efficiently in the race to destroy other countries in competition for power, money, and evolution. As he had expected, people used knowledge to destroy – a delightful wink at evil incarnate. But Raya had become bored with the repetition of wars and monotonous greed, so he decided to do something more…something final…to dominate the world.

  “Mr. Raya, so nice to see you. Hannes Wetter, at your service.” The antique dealer smiled as the odd character walked up the steps to his front door.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Wetter,” Raya greeted gracefully, shaking the man’s hand. “I look forward to obtaining my prize.”

  “Of course. Come in,” Hannes replied smoothly, grinning from ear to ear. “My shop is in the basement. Here you go.” He gestured for Raya to lead the way down a very posh staircase, adorned with beautiful and expensive ornaments on stands that lead down along the banister. Above them, some woven items glittered in the mild breeze of a small fan Hannes kept the place cool with.

  “This is an interesting little place. Where are your customers?” Raya asked. The question perplexed Hannes slightly, but he assumed the Egyptian was just more inclined to do things the old way.

  “My customers usually order online and we send out the items to them,” Hannes explained.

  “They trust you?” the thin Magician started in sincere surprise. “How do they pay you? And how do they know you will keep to your word?”

  A befuddled chuckle escaped the seller. “Over here, Mr. Raya. In my office. I decided to keep the piece you asked for in there. It has a provenance, so you are assured of the authenticity of your purchase,” Hannes replied courteously. “And here is my laptop.”

  “Your what?” the suave, dark Magician asked coolly.

  “My laptop?” Hannes repeated, pointing at the computer. “Where you can transfer the funds from your account to pay for the item?”

  “Oh!” Raya realized. “Of course, yes. I’m sorry. I had a long night.”

  “Women or wine?” the jovial Hannes chuckled.

  “Walking, I’m afraid. It is more exhausting now that I’m older, you see,” Raya remarked.

  “I know. I know that all too well,” Hannes said. “I used to run marathons as a young man, and now I can hardly make it up the steps without having to stop to catch my breath. Where did you go walking?”

  “Ghent. I couldn’t sleep, so I started walking to come and see you,” Raya explained matter-of-factly as he scrutinized the office with wonderment.

  “Excuse me?” Hannes gasped. “You walked from Ghent to Antwerp? Fifty odd kilometers?”

  “Yes.”

  Hannes Wetter was floored, but noted that the customer’s appearance seemed that of someone rather eccentric, someone who did not seem fazed by most things.

  “That is impressive. Would you like some tea?�
�

  “I would like to see the effigy,” Raya said firmly.

  “Oh, of course,” Hannes said, and went to the wall safe to retrieve the twelve-inch statuette. When he returned, Raya’s black eyes immediately identified the six uniform diamonds lodged in the sea of gems that made up the exterior of the statuette. It was a hideous looking imp, jagged teeth in a snarl and long black hair on its main head. Carved from black ivory, the thing boasted two faces on each side of its main face, although it only had one body. Upon the forehead of each face, a diamond was set.

  “Like myself, this imp is uglier in real life,” Raya said with a morbid smile as he took the statuette from a laughing Hannes. The seller was not about to argue his buyer’s point, as it was pretty much true. But his propriety was saved the awkwardness by Raya’s curiosity. “Why does it have five faces? One would be enough to scare off intruders.”

  “Ah, that,” Hannes said, eager to describe the origin. “According to the provenance, it has had only two owners before. A king from Sudan owned it in the Second Century but claimed that it was cursed, so he donated it to a church in Spain during a campaign in the Alboran Sea, near Gibraltar.”

  Raya looked up at the man with a confused expression. “That is why he has five faces?”

  “No, no, no,” Hannes laughed. “I’m still getting to that. This piece was modelled on the Indian god of evil, Ravana, but Ravana had ten heads, so this probably was an inaccurate ode to the god-king.”

  “Or it is not the god-king at all,” Raya smiled, counting the remaining diamonds as the six of the Seven Sisters, demonesses from the Testament of King Solomon.

  “How do you mean?” Hannes asked.

  Raya rose to his feet, still smiling. In a soft, educational tone he said, “Watch.”

  One by one, to the fierce objection of the antique dealer, Raya used his pocket knife to extricate each diamond until they counted six in his palm. Hannes did not know why, but he was too terrified of the visitor to do anything to stop him. A creeping fear overtook him, as if the devil himself stood in his presence and he could do nothing, only watch, as his visitor insisted. The tall Egyptian collected the diamonds into his palm. Like a parlor magician at a cheap party he showed the stones to Hannes. “See that?”