The Skin of the Gods
Title Page
Chapter 1: The Rose and Crown
Chapter 2: Another Nightmare
Chapter 3: Breakfast at Benny’s
Chapter 4: Jackson’s Promise
Chapter 5: Floating down the Aisle
Chapter 6: Two Magicians
Chapter 7: The Jewelry Maker
Chapter 8: A lie can travel halfway around the world
Chapter 9: The Soul Collector
Chapter 10: The Gift from Anubis
Chapter 11: The Book of Byblos
Chapter 12: The Meeting of the Magicians
Chapter 13: The Legend of Osirus
Chapter 14: Mid-Day in the Great Hall
Chapter 15: I need a Timmy’s Coffee
Chapter 16: Hope is Nature’s Veil
Chapter 17: A Powerful and Dangerous Man
Chapter 18: Serpents and Hounds
Chapter 19: The Four Arrows
Chapter 20: The Three Wise Men
Chapter 21: The Lamb and Flag
Chapter 22: A Fragile Heart
Chapter 23: Kissing is Natures Coffee
Chapter 24: Fools in Love
Chapter 25: The Skin of the Gods
The Skin of the Gods
A 2Promises novel book 2 of 2
By
Phil Armstrong
Published by
2Promises Publishing House
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Title and Copyright Page
The Skin of the Gods
Phil Armstrong
Published by Phil Armstrong at Smashwords
Thank you for downloading this free eBook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form, with the exception of quotes used in reviews. Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. Thank you for downloading this free eBook.
Copyright 2012 Phil Armstrong. Discover other titles by Phil Armstrong at www.2promises.com
The 2 Promises Book Series consists of two books:
Book 1: 2 Promises (ISBN 978-0-557-23126-3) and
Book 2: The Skin of the Gods (ISBN 978-0-9877284-0-1)
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The Skin of the Gods
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I dedicate this book to my Wife and my Family.
"A kiss is a lovely trick, designed by nature, to stop words when speech becomes superfluous.”
Ingrid Bergman
Chapter 1: The Rose and Crown
City of York, England, 1890.
In late August Harold Armitage walked along the Shambles in the heart of the City of York. It had been a productive day and he was pleased. He allowed a smile to ease across his usually stern face. A tricky business transaction causing him concern for weeks had concluded in a more than satisfactory manner. His business dealings of late seemed to be a struggle. Finally a deal had closed in a smooth and acceptable manner. Tonight was a night to relax and have a few drinks. The day was drawing to an end with evening approaching. The sun had been strong and proud today warming the air and fusing it with the smells of the city. The summer’s air was now starting to cool as the light began to fade.
He approached the door of the Rose and Crown public house. The City of York was a thriving vibrant place situated in North Yorkshire, England. He paused before entering. Organized by local business dignitaries, tonight was an annual celebration of a fruitful year. If he were honest he would rather have stayed at home reading a good book. Many of the attendees were crass money hungry deviants. They portrayed themselves as fine upstanding gentlemen, pillars of the community. In reality they would not think twice about stealing their Grandfather’s pocket watch if they thought they could make a profit from the venture.
The raucous roar of laughter snapped his attention back to the entrance. He took a deep breath and pulled open the heavy wooden door. Pub doors always opened towards the street. He inquired once and was told it was easier to throw out drunken patrons if the door swung outwards. Harold entered the pub and was immediately recognized. It was busy with a cross section of the city’s inhabitants. A quick glance registered old, young, regulars, wealthy, poor and working girls.
“Harold! Over here, come and join us,” shouted a portly red headed man. Benjamin Crossley was a true friend. He was a little overweight sporting a shock of red hair and a full bushy beard. His face was always a fiery red accented with flushed cheeks. He had married a beautiful woman who loved him dearly. Human nature shows its traits in interesting ways. It was obvious to those who knew Carol that she was wildly, madly and deeply in love with Benjamin.
She was a fierce defender of his reputation and his public image. She was stunningly beautiful and many did not approve of their pairing. Many felt she deserved a handsome, more desirable gentleman. Why is it that people always think they know better than the individuals involved? Harold could not imagine a happier couple. Benjamin sat at the end of a long wooden table. He was tucked away to one side of the pub in a private nook area. The long table had small wooden stools, which would accommodate a group of twenty. The nook was full with loud, boisterous, happy men. Benjamin had known Harold for years; he owned a chain of butcher shops. He was well fed and exceptionally strong from carrying large sides of beef and other animal carcasses.
“You’re late. Most of us have had a skin full already.”
“I’m sorry Ben, I had a few things to attend to but I’m here now.”
“You always have to make a dramatic entrance don’t you Harry,” sniped Paul Smith. Paul always called him Harry knowing that it grated. Paul never liked Harold Armitage; he didn’t like a single thing about him. Harold was tall, slim and handsome. He dressed impeccably and was charmingly funny. He seemed to have ample means and looked ten years younger than his real age of thirty-four.
Paul hated him. Hate is a strong word that should seldom be used but Paul truly hated him. Paul was shorter, fatter, plain looking and spoke with a slight stutter. He came from a rich family but had not made his mark on the social scene like Harold. Paul had failed to impress the ladies. It was not important until he met Claire. Claire was the daughter of Judge Brown. She was perfect in every way. Men could only dream of taking her hand. Claire was besotted with Harold for many years since she first met him on her fourteenth birthday. Paul failed to make a positive impression and was constantly rebuked. Harold had a string of eligible suitors vying for his attention and he seemed to be favoring Charlotte Parker an attractive woman with straw colored hair. Harold was always polite to Claire but clearly not interested. It made Paul angry how Claire acted differently when around Harold. Why could she not see through this charade? It was obvious that he was the one for her and not Harry. Why were his feelings not reciprocated?
“Sit down and ignore him,” said Ben pulling up a small stool.
The barmaid arrived and flashed a smile broader than the group had seen all evening. She clearly liked what she saw as she took Harold’s order for a pint of ale. She headed for the bar expertly avoiding the drunken hands lunging for her as she skipped by. At that moment a man rose to make an announcement.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen please if I may,” his voice rose until the noise at the table subsided. “I will try to keep this address concise. As a group of distinguished businessmen we should give thanks for a very prosperous year.
Our businesses have grown and our investments in this community have been wise. Our allia
nces have helped all of our respective businesses and I ask you to raise your tankards to a good year.”
Harold looked down at an empty space where his tankard would have been. He raised his imaginary tankard high in the air cupping his hands. “A good year,” he repeated.
The men sat and the conversations resumed. Paul glared at Harold from across the table as if trying to pick a fight. Harold ignored him making Paul’s temperature rise. The bar maid arrived with a handful of drinks. She placed a pewter tankard sporting a frothy white head of foam next to Harold’s right hand. He reached for the tankard and began to drink the cool strong tasting ale. Harold preferred whiskey but he drank ale when in public. It seemed to be more acceptable in the pub. This way he would not look like he was flaunting his wealth. For all of his caution one look at his clothing and people could assess his worth.
“You’ve got some catching up to do! What was so pressing that you couldn’t join your fellow business associates on such a fine occasion as this?” Paul spewed the words like a ferret lunging for its prey. Paul hoped to draw Harry into an exchange where he could make it uncomfortable.
“Paul you wouldn’t understand and you don’t need to worry about my affairs. I’m sure you have enough to worry about in your own world?” replied Harold in a firm but assured way.
“What do you mean by that?” stammered Paul looking wounded.
To infuriate Paul, Harold turned his face away and ignored the exchange. Harold set his pewter tankard down on the wooden table harder than he had intended. The frothy ale responded to the movement. As Harold withdrew his hand his ring caught the tankards handle making the dull clanging noise of metal on metal. Harold looked at his ring to make sure it was not damaged. The ring sat on his right hand, third finger from his thumb. It was a gold band with a setting supporting an unusual dark rounded stone. The stone was consistently colored with a dark grey polished look. The yellow band had strange markings raised in the gold. The ring was unusual and was clearly crafted with the finest quality. Harold stayed with the group laughing and drinking the night away.
Harold consumed three tankards of ale, well within his normal limit for these occasions. He had eaten a meal before he left for the pub knowing that an empty stomach and alcohol was not a good combination. He felt light headed, as if he had consumed twice the amount of ale. He felt happy and mellow but his senses were dull. His normally fast brain and articulate arguments were failing him during his most recent conversation. It was late and the pub had emptied considerably when he rose to leave.
Rising quickly his head began to swirl and the dark walls seemed to blend with the stone floor. He felt his knees buckle under his own weight. Harold fell quickly back into the refuge of his comfortable wooden stool. Not wanting to appear foolish he remained seated and tried to regain his composure. Only five men from the original business group remained at the table.
Still engaged in conversation were Ben, Paul, David Stark the tailor, Gareth Pymm the carpenter and William Enright the landlord of the Rose and Crown. The front door to the pub had been locked hours earlier. This boisterous group was now the private guests of the landlord. The bar maid tried to make herself scarce as the jokes became bawdier and the ale flowed. William and Harold entered into a long debate about social justice and current politics. After several hours of discussion and friendly debate they agreed to disagree. Throughout the night men had left to return home to their families. Benjamin had waved goodbye to Harold slapping him on his back as he left quite early. William and Paul remained with Harold. Harold’s head was fuzzy and he started to see double. It was not long before the room started to spin and he felt a warm force ebbing down his spine. He passed out and fell into a foggy haze.
“Thanks Mary we can take it from here,” said William sending his loyal bar maid home for the night.
“Will he be alright?” she inquired pointing to Harold’s sprawled body. Harold was motionless with white foam leaking from the sides of his mouth.
“He’s just had too much to drink. We all have. Go on home now; Mr. Smith will make sure he gets home safe won’t you Paul?”
“Ay.” Paul nodded as they both turned to look at his remarkably sober figure perched upright on a stool. William moved quickly to unlock the front door. His walk was unsure as he staggered forward. He unlatched the door and opened it enough to allow Mary passage into the misty dark night. Her shoes made noise on the cobbled street as she scurried away.
“I’m going upstairs to bed. This never happened in my pub do you understand?” said William slurring his words slightly.
“Understood,” said Paul sliding a brown leather pouch bulging with coins across the wooden table.
“He better be alright. What did you put in his drink?”
“It’s a potion I got from a sailor. It’s made from herbs, strong herbs. When mixed with ale it makes you drowsy and forces you to tell the truth. He’ll wake up with a headache that’s all. I don’t like this man and I want to know what his intentions are. I’m going to ask him a few questions.”
William grabbed the leather purse and glared down at Paul. “Do what you need to do but go out the back door. Be sure to close it firmly and the latch will drop. Make sure you get him home safely. I’m not having any part of this if this is raised again, understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good night Mr. Smith.”
“Good night Mr. Enright.”
William turned and disappeared into a dark stairwell staggering as he left. He heaved his huge frame up the creaking stairs and disappeared from view. Paul grabbed Harold’s prostrate body and propped him against the table. He slapped his face hard with the back of his hand and smiled. Harold let out a small noise to register the stinging blow. His eyes opened with heavy lids and he struggled to keep his head from falling forward.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for this night. You’re going to tell me whatever I want to know. So let’s start. What are your intentions towards Claire?” barked Paul enjoying this immensely. Paul shook Harold violently by the shoulders, “Answer me you idiot.”
“I don’t, er, I don’t have any,” stuttered Harold.
“Then you’re not planning to marry her?”
“No, I’m not planning to,” he said barely awake.
“Which lady are you interested in?” shouted Paul.
“I don’t want to get married at this time, maybe later,” said Harold barely in control of his actions.
“You can’t marry Claire, do you understand?”
“Yes, it would be too dangerous.”
“What do you mean too dangerous?”
“Her Father’s a judge and she seems inquisitive.”
“So what’s that got to do with danger?” Paul slapped Harold again jolting him into a response.
“I can’t risk it being found. It needs to stay hidden.”
Intrigued Paul grabbed Harold by the throat and lifted his chin upwards. Their eyes met, “Tell me quickly or I swear I’ll kill you. What needs to stay hidden?”
“If she discovered the Amulet then I would have placed her in danger. Many people search for it. They’ll stop at nothing to have its powers.”
“What Amulet? What are you talking about?” Paul slapped him again to make sure he did not dose off.
Harold recoiled from the blow but managed to spit out an answer. “I have sworn to guard the precious Amulet. It’s been entrusted to my care; it’s very rare and precious. It’s a great burden.” He started to dose again.
“Wake up you moron. Why is this Amulet precious?” asked Paul intrigued.
“The Amulet has healing properties it keeps you young and in good health. It has the power to heal any ailment extending your life.”
“Do you have it with you?”
“No of course not,” Harold’s chin slumped to one side hitting his collarbone.
“How many people know of this Amulet?”
“Two.”
“Who’s the other person, tell me
quickly!”
The Skin of the Gods Page 1