The Skin of the Gods

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The Skin of the Gods Page 28

by Phil Armstrong


  “Great. Thanks Father. I like to have powerful people in my corner.”

  Matt pushed the wooden confession booth door and headed for the exit of the Church. His movement appeared calm but purposeful. He opened the heavy exterior door, exposing his senses to the barrage of light, noise and bustling activity. He walked quickly through the busy streets, entering an intersection of roads, shops and pubs. Matt’s immediate aim was to put some space between himself and the Church. He felt safer that way. He reached for his mobile phone and rang the number on the card. The taxi would be there in ten minutes and he would be on his way.

  If customs bothered him he could explain the cheap necklace as a gift for his girlfriend. Matt smiled, he seemed smugly satisfied that he would please the Elders.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 19: The Four Arrows

  Haworth, West Yorkshire, England, Present day.

  Behind the hotel, the sun had managed to peek above the grass hill. For the time being David called this hotel home. It was nestled within the quaint Village of Haworth, West Yorkshire, England. David felt surprised. He was so far away from the busy energetic streets of Hong Kong, yet he felt relaxed and totally at home. He had tried to rationalize these feelings. Perhaps it was the friendly demeanor of the locals, spinning their stories of days gone by. Perhaps it was the old world charm of the beautiful Main Street. The little shops, steep hill and cobbled streets, were a welcome change from the busy trolley cars, bustling traffic, high-rise buildings and neon logos of Hong Kong. David could look across lush green fields and see grazing sheep. He could take a deep breath filling his lungs with clean fresh air. He marveled at the swaying trees and gurgling streams forging their way through the Worth Valley. It was truly a beautiful place with strong positive energy. It was charming and perfect for where David was in his life. This was all true, but if he were honest with himself, this was not the answer he was searching for. He had an overwhelming feeling that he should remain in Haworth for a while. He could not admit to himself, why. The answer was abundantly clear, Beth! It was a feeling coming from deep within and he had to acknowledge it. He was falling for Beth.

  David’s room was exceptionally dark. The windows were covered with thick curtains, winning their battle to keep the daylight from encroaching. The sun was up and the warm rays descended upon the charming village. It brought heat to this chilly morning. A loud pinging noise broke the calm catching David’s attention. He had been dozing comfortably. He didn’t want to wake but he wasn’t deeply asleep either. The noise snapped his attention back to the day ahead. His focus switched to his Blackberry lying on the bedside table. His urge to find out who was contacting him was overwhelming. His connection to his phone and email pulled him back to his world in Hong Kong. He leaned over and fumbled for the light switch upon the wall. His fingers felt for the switch and the room was instantly flooded with light. A quick glance at the alarm clock confirmed the time was 6:25am.

  He retrieved his Blackberry and opened his email. The illuminated display proudly announced a new email from “Sampan Man.” David smiled as he recalled his many rides in the Sampan boat. For a second he was sailing around Hong Kong’s Aberdeen harbor with his friend and mentor. His last meeting had been strained and he felt bad about the way it had ended. Sampan Man had reached out to him and hopefully he was okay. He clicked on the email opening the contents of the text. The attached email was short, containing instructions for him to go to Amsterdam immediately. An address was supplied but little else. David stared at the email. Could this be a trap? Did anyone else know about his clandestine meetings? Is this really the Sampan Man or a clever imposter? He knew one thing; this would drive him crazy, eating away at him with unanswered questions. He would have to go. The note urged him to go immediately. David did not want to leave Beth but he had this niggling feeling that he needed to go. The Sampan man would not risk contacting him if this was not vitally important. David could fully comprehend the speed at which things were changing. He sent Beth an email before stepping onto a plane destined for Amsterdam Airport Schiphol.

  A few hours later and David was turning his head sharply as his eyes followed rows of bicycles and riders across a narrow street. He stretched his legs as he peered out from the tinted glass of the limousine. “The Amstel Hotel please; how far now driver?”

  “Not far Sir, maybe a couple of streets, I think about four minutes.”

  It wasn’t long before they were pulling into a narrow street. They stopped outside of the entrance to the Amstel Hotel. The doorman greeted David with the customary effectiveness of a five star hotel. David checked into his suite but was eager to find the address indicated in his brief email. He didn’t unpack his travel case he simply threw it upon the bed. Taking time to wash his face, he grabbed his room key and headed back to speak with the concierge. David travelled down to the lobby using a wooden clad elevator. It was very small and obviously old, not made for the traffic and luggage of modern day travelers. The elevator worked efficiently and David confidently strode towards the concierge desk.

  A chirpy neat looking man in a uniform met David’s gaze. “Can I help you Sir?” said the man with a slight accent.

  “I’m looking for a city map with enough detail that it will show the street names.”

  “I have a pretty good map but it only shows the main streets. Which street are you looking for?”

  David unlocked his Blackberry and opened his email. “I’m looking for a street called Reguliersgracht Centrum. He tilted his Blackberry so the concierge could see the correct spelling. Does that mean anything to you?”

  “Sure. It’s not far from the hotel. Maybe a five or ten minute walk.” He swiveled the map so David could see it better. He quickly clicked his ballpoint pen and lowered it to the map. “The Hotel is here,” he said, drawing a circle on the map. “Reguliersgracht Centrum is here,” he tapped a street with his pen. He circled the street and asked, “What number?”

  David wanted to keep the location a secret. “I’ll know it when I see it, thanks.” David smiled, grabbed the map and walked towards the main entrance to the hotel. He navigated his way across an intersection, avoiding the traffic and the steady stream of bicycles. He crossed a bridge under construction, spanning the Binnenamstel Canal. He walked along Sarphatistraat. He strode past a park sign that read, “Frederiks Plein.” David turned right. He was now on a street facing a Canal called “Reguliersgracht.” The concierge was correct, a quick glance at his watch confirmed that this journey had taken him about seven minutes. David now needed to find the address. He retrieved his Blackberry from his pocket but before he could scan his email for the exact address a movement caught his eye.

  Two white Swans led the procession along the Canal with four light brown colored Signets following along. Two more adult Swans brought up the rear of the parade. Across the Canal was a partially sunken rowboat. A strong rope kept it afloat. Perched patiently on the edge of the rowboat was a Heron, focused on the fish within the Canal. His concentration broken by the parade of Swans, the Heron flicked his long beak in annoyance.

  David unlocked his Blackberry to reveal the street number he was looking for, number 718. David walked for a while, until he reached his destination. He stared at the door and instantly knew his suspicions were unfounded. He relaxed knowing the Sampan Man had organized this meeting. The door was raised and protected by a wrought iron railing. It was a red brick building, fairly modern in its construction. A tall double door faced him with letter slots cut into the doors. They were painted in a black shiny gloss. To the right of the door was an intercom with three buttons. Above this was a white plaque displaying black numbers, “718.”

  Above the doors was a framed piece of glass. In front of the glass pane was a design made from black wrought iron, in the shape of an eye. Emanating from each corner were four gold arrows. The points of each arrow met in the pupil of the eye. In an unconscious gesture David scratched his head to recall where he had seen this design befor
e. A rush of blood flooded his brain as the image recalled instantly. He could now see it in his mind’s eye, the Sampan Man’s apartment in Hong Kong. It hung above the fireplace. Was this a sign for David? No, the design looked like it had been part of this building for a long time. Everything looked weathered and appropriately aged. David cautiously walked towards the door. He pressed the intercom button listening to the shrill buzzing noise.

  The speaker vibrated with a voice from inside. “Yes?”

  A plain inquiry was presented to David. It was in keeping with the anonymity that the building’s façade offered. David didn’t know what to say but then it came to him. “Hello. I’m here to inquire about a Sampan ride around the canals of Amsterdam.”

  For a few seconds there was silence and David’s heart raced. He waited but there was no response. After what seemed an age, a shrill buzzing noise could be heard. It was followed by a click that drew David’s attention to the heavy door. The door had opened slightly. David took this as a sign to enter. He pushed open the door and walked into a partitioned hallway. As the door swung closed behind him he surveyed his surroundings. He advanced into a long corridor with doors either side. At its end was a set of wooden stairs. The floor was made from strips of wood. It was rustic and had a warehouse feel to it. The floor looked older than the modern exterior of the building. The walls were bare and plain. The atmosphere in this white washed hallway was cold and sterile.

  David could hear steps as they approached from the stairs. He remained stationary, his gaze focused upon the stairs. A young woman appeared, dressed in tight blue denim jeans. She wore black-heeled boots that just covered her ankles. The heels made a noise on the unwelcoming wooden steps. As she approached David could see she wore a blue woolen sweater that hugged her slender form. She had a pretty fresh face and shoulder length blonde hair. She continued to walk towards David. Her head remained perfectly still as her hips swayed rhythmically with the clicking of her heels. David was transfixed. When she approached, he realized how tall she was. She had piercing green eyes and her sullen face broke into the most dazzling smile.

  “Looking for a Sampan ride?” she repeated with the slight twinge of a Dutch accent.

  “Yes,” was all David could muster.

  “You’re David right?” She stopped walking and rested her hand on her rounded hip.

  “Right,” choked David.

  “The strong and silent type,” she joked. “I’m Aardina; you’d better follow me and come inside.” Aardina turned and started to walk down the hallway.

  David’s legs didn’t respond immediately but he soon engaged his brain and his foot lunged forward, as if by instinct. Before he knew it, he was following Aardina towards the stairs. She stopped at the bottom, turned and smiled. Pressing her mouth to his ear she whispered, “You first.”

  David lifted his right leg and began the ascent, provided by the old wooden stairs. After a couple of flights, he turned to see Aardina following and urging him onwards. “Next door to your right,” she said. David approached the door. Aardina seemed to step in front of him. She held a large metal key and inserted it into the keyhole of the lock. David couldn’t recall the last time he had seen something that old incorporated into a door. His building in Hong Kong had a plastic card key access with advanced biometrics.

  Aardina pulled the key from the door and turned the brass knob. She pushed the door firmly. She looked at David, gesturing that he should enter first. She was acting in an odd way and he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. He was suspicious and remained alert and untrusting. When he stepped through the door his suspicions were stripped away instantly. He dropped his guard immediately. He walked into a small square room with a large window overlooking the Canal. Light streamed into the small room, casting shadows on the freshly painted beige walls. A roaring fire crackled deep within a stone mantelpiece. The walls had paintings of Canals, spires, boats with flowers and beautiful bridges. The old wooden floor supported the finest Turkish carpet, splashing color and warmth into the room. David recognized the silk Hereke carpet and knew instantly this room belonged to someone important.

  A French gold encased Frederic Berthoud mantel clock captured the seconds with its hypnotic ticking. The room was tastefully decorated in the European style. David tried to take in all of the interesting antiques but his gaze was drawn to the Sampan Man, perched upon a French carved leaf sofa.

  “The truth is rarely pure and never simple,” said the Sampan Man smiling.

  “Oscar Wilde, the Importance of Being Earnest. That’s what you said to me, the last time we met. I see you haven’t lost your taste for the finer things in life,” said David nodding at the expensive items adorning the room. David noticed the Sampan Man nod at Aardina. David turned to look at Aardina but he only saw her back, as she left the room locking the door behind her.

  As she left the room, the Sampan Man looked at her in a lecherous way; “Indeed, the finer things in life,” was all he said.

  “Who is she?” inquired David.

  “This is a safe house. She’s the daughter of the local Derwyddon.” The Sampan Man watched David intently. He knew that term would be new to David. He wanted to know if David would ask for clarification or try to bluff his way through.

  “Look, you told me to get here quickly and now you start to use words that I simply don’t understand. Are you going to tell me why I’m here and what’s so important?”

  “Yes, I owe you that. Please sit,” the Sampan Man motioned for David to sit in an elaborately carved chair, near the fire.

  David looked at the Sampan Man expectantly. “I’ll sit, but before I do, I need some immediate answers. Why the locked door, when you said this was a safe house? What are you hiding from? What’s so important that you drag me away from my quest? One final thing, where are we exactly? This is expensive real estate and the four arrows above the entrance, have not escaped my notice. You have some explaining to do and now it’s time to come clean. I don’t want fancy words or mystic legends this time.” Feeling as though he’d made his point, David sat in the chair frustrated.

  The Sampan Man smiled and rose from the couch. He walked over to a table and picked up a large flask. He gently poured steaming hot water into two tumblers. “You have to try this. It’s a Dutch thing, but it’s mighty civilized.” He picked up a silver container with a small spout. He poured pure honey onto a silver spoon and stirred it into each tumbler. The tumblers contained fresh mint leaves, still attached to the stalks. David could now smell the pleasant aroma filling the room. He offered one of the tumblers to David, “Here sip on this and I’ll explain everything. Careful, it’s really hot.”

  David tapped his fingers on the tumbler, trying to provide relief as the heat seeped through into his flesh. The Sampan Man settled onto the couch and waited for the steaming liquid to cool. “Kieran Dwyer is a dangerous man. He has access to unlimited resources, but that’s not all. What makes him dangerous is that he’s now got access to information. This information has been kept secret for thousands of years. I’m convinced he’s now getting guidance from the spirit world. It sounds far fetched, but he has Cryanna’s crystal and I know what he’s using it for. I’m going to lay it out for you but recognize you’re in danger. The Servants of Byblos have been protecting two sacred artifacts since time began. Okay, I love to exaggerate for the sake of a good story.” He paused and sipped hot mint flavored tea from his tumbler.

  “The Order has existed for thousands of years and has counted upon numerous loyal servants. The Dagger that Kieran bought in the auction was the proof. Proof he needed for the existence of a Golden box. This box is made from the purest gold and I suspect he now knows what it looks like. It has special powers and combined with an ancient Amulet, it can open a portal to other worlds. The famed Amulet is made from sacred wood and holds a mystical power. When you insert the Amulet into the Golden box, the portal will open and unlimited power is granted. I’m talking about ancient power, dark powers from the
oldest gods. This secret has been kept by the Servants of Byblos throughout the ages.”

  “Do the Servants of Byblos have the artifacts?”

  The Sampan Man thought before he answered. “It’s why we were formed. We’re sworn to protect them. The Servants of Byblos have evolved through countless iterations. For protection, we have changed our name over the years and have infiltrated other secret societies. We have chapters in the Orient, North America and Europe. The Servants of Byblos are an ancient Egyptian order but the reason we were formed, is still valid today. Are you familiar with the Druidic Order?”

 

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