DARK VISIONS

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DARK VISIONS Page 17

by James Byron Huggins


  Phillips smiled and hailed the old man with a raised hand. “Hey, Ben! These friends of mine would like to order robes just like the one you made for me.” He gestured. “This is Joe, Jodi, and Marvin. Guys, this master craftsman is Ben Chamberlain. There’s nobody like him. His work is ‘perfecto.’”

  With no discernable expression, Chamberlain asked, “Did my friend remember to tell you that I routinely require payment in advance?”

  Joe Mac curtly nodded, “We’re prepared to pay today if you’d like. I’ll even pay extra if you could put a rush on it. We’d like to have them by the Solstice.”

  With raised eyebrows Ben Chamberlain turned slightly aside and took a single step, hand cupping his chin. “Hmmm,” he began, “I don’t know if that’s possible at my age. I’m not sure I have the strength.”

  Jodi expressed disappointment. “But we were told you do such beautiful work.”

  “Thank you,” Chamberlain nodded. “But the embroidery takes time. And the embroidery is everything.”

  “Because of the imagery within the thread,” Marvin said solemnly. “I know. I am a Manteis.” He respectfully laid a hand on Joe Mac’s brute shoulder. “And although my friend is blind, he is an aes dana of the first order. And Jodi, who usually doesn’t say much, is a Filid. And she has never been wrong.”

  Chamberlain was abruptly scowling. He stared for a long moment at Phillips before focusing with unconcealed confusion on Marvin as he asked, “And you want to join his group? How long have you known Mr. Phillips?”

  Marvin bent his head. “We met two days ago at an oppidum.”

  “Oh, no,” Chamberlain lifted his eyes to the ceiling before walking forward, gesturing to the stairway. “Mr. Phillips? Would you please be so kind as to leave me alone with your friends? You can rendezvous with them later.”

  “I’d love to, but I have to get to work!” Phillips waved and Jodi cringed as he did an exceedingly poor job of hiding his haste. “Ya’ll have fun!”

  He was gone.

  Chamberlain shook his head with a sigh as he walked to a chair and sat, “Why do you not have your ornaments?”

  “They were confiscated by Customs,” said Marvin.

  Chamberlain’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “Because the gold used in our embroidery was genuine gold thread. My father is a jeweler at Saluvii at D’entrement Province, and he provided it for us. But when we arrived at LaGuardia for the Solstice, the men at Customs inspected our luggage and found our ornaments. Then they discovered they were crafted with real gold and detained us as suspected gold smugglers. They eventually released us, but kept our robes as evidence until they finish their investigation. Now we’re not prepared.”

  Chamberlain looked at Jodi. “You are a Filid. How is it you could not divine that you were dealing with a fool in Mr. Phillips?” He lifted an arm. “Mr. Phillips is not a member of the family! He is only a degenerate lecher who likes to play dress-up!”

  Marvin looked at Joe Mac. “He’s the real thing.”

  Jodi removed her badge. “Because I’m not a Filid, Mr. Chamberlain. I’m a detective with the NYPD.” She nodded to Joe Mac. “And this is Joe Mac Blake. He’s a homicide detective. Can you guess why we’re here?”

  Chamberlain laughed lightly and nodded, “Yes.”

  Joe Mac stepped forward.

  “Wait!” said Jodi, raising a hand. “Who are you, Mr. Chamberlain?”

  “I am a Ri.”

  “A king,” Marvin stated. “It’s Gaelic. He’s the king of a group of Druids.”

  “I have been expecting someone like you for many years, detective,” Chamberlain said easily. “I’m surprised it took you so long. Why don’t you all sit down? I am not reluctant to speak with you.” He raised a gaze to Joe Mac. “And violence, my large friend, is not necessary. I am not the man you seek.”

  Jodi and Marvin pulled up wood chairs and sat.

  “I’ll stand,” said Joe Mac.

  “As you wish.” Chamberlain focused on Jodi. “You seek the Ri who is ordering the deaths of these innocent people. Am I right?”

  “You’re right,” said Jodi.

  “As I said, I am not the man you seek. Nor do I know his identity. I only know he is very savage and very smart. He has concealed himself from me all my life.”

  Joe Mac asked, “How do we find him?”

  “I don’t know.” Chamberlain’s arms hung tiredly at his sides. “I gave up trying to find him years ago.”

  “Why did you try to find him at all?” asked Jodi.

  “Because he’s evil. Because his group has been committing human sacrifice in this city for decades.” Chamberlain paused. “I presume that at least one of you knows something about the ancient Druids?”

  “Yeah,” Marvin answered. “I do.”

  “Well, they indeed follow the path of the ancient Druids. And they have killed many, many people.” Chamberlain nodded solemnly, “For years I tried to discover the name of their Ri, so that I might inform the police. I even took great personal risks. But I learned nothing. And if I had continued – with my lack of skill – they would have discovered me and killed me along with my entire family, and so I stopped.” He paused. “To be honest I didn’t want to die horribly doing something that was doomed to fail, anyway.”

  Jodi: “What haven’t you told police what you do know?”

  “Because I don’t know anything that would help the police.” Chamberlain waited, staring patiently. “What do you think I know, detective? A name?”

  “Someone picks up the robes, don’t they?” asked Joe Mac.

  “No,” Chamberlain shortly shook his head. “No one picks up their robes. They have always placed an order through a foreign re-mailing service that can’t be traced. Then I return the robes in the same way. I’ve never met one of them.”

  Jodi asked, “If all this is done through a remailing service, how do you know we’re talking about the same group?”

  Chamberlain shrugged, “I assume you’ve finally killed one of them doing something horrible and traced his robe back to me.” His gaze revealed no surprise. “Am I right?”

  “Yeah,” she replied, “you’re right.”

  “I expected as much. But the delivery system for the robes is of no consequence. I have known for years that these Druids were located in this city.”

  “How did you know that?”

  “Because I saw them in a graveyard when I was much younger. It was from a distance. And it was dark. But even in the dark I recognized my own work.” His frown deepened. “Every great artist recognizes his own work …”

  Joe Mac took a step. “What graveyard?”

  “I’m obligated to tell you something else before I tell you that.”

  “What graveyard!”

  “Please, Joe!” Jodi leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands clasped. “What do you want to tell us, Mr. Chamberlain?”

  “These people will kill every one of you,” Chamberlain said frankly. “They have survived eight millennia because they have always been more savage than any enemy that has come against them. They are more dangerous than anything else you will ever face in this world. And you should know that before you begin.”

  “But you were going to give them up,” said Joe Mac.

  “I changed my mind.”

  “Why?”

  Chamberlain hesitated. “I guess I just decided I’d rather be a living dog than a dead lion,” he said finally.

  Marvin leaned back and swept a hand down over his face.

  Jodi didn’t even need to look at Joe Mac to know his answer; he would rather be a “living lion” but dead was just as well. She felt a fear she knew she couldn’t deny. She was impressed, and the thought of walking away dulled her mind like smoke dulled the walls of a cheap hotel not built to last. She felt inadequate. And there was something about the old man’s emotionless words that inspired hopelessness.

  Joe Mac finally said, “Maybe you two should go home. There’s no reason to start a
fight you can’t win.”

  Barely raising a gaze Jodi asked, “You gonna go home, too, Joe?”

  With a slight frown Joe Mac shook his head once to the left, right.

  “Then I’m not going home, either. So, Mr. Chamberlain, where is this graveyard? And what’s so special about it? And why were you there?”

  Chamberlain’s brow rose in surrender as he began, “It is a graveyard containing pre-American Celtic gravestones. It is believed to be one of the first habitations of the Gaelic peoples on this continent because, as you probably know, Columbus did not discover America. It was discovered and indeed occupied by Celtic people centuries before Columbus set foot here, so this very old cemetery is believed to be sacred Celtic ground. And in a more practical sense, it is quite isolated, if not entirely forgotten, by the modern world, so it was once a safe place for us to hold ceremonies.

  “However, one night, as I was wandering through the woods after our ceremony, I saw a separate meeting and crept closer to understand. And I saw soon enough that it was a gathering of Druids, and they were wearing robes of my design. Then I saw them sacrifice a human being on a stone altar and realized they were of an ancient sect avoided if not condemned by those of my Order. After that, we were astute to avoid the place altogether. We certainly did not want to be discovered by them. They would have shown us no more mercy than they would have shown their worst enemy.”

  “Why not?” asked Jodi.

  “Because they must protect their secrets.”

  “And who do they consider their enemy?”

  “They have plenty of enemies,” Marvin answered for him. “Greeks. Romans. Christians. Jews. Basically the entire modern world. Even modern Druids.”

  Joe Mac asked sullenly, “Why do these folks always get together in graveyards? Why don’t they have a temple?”

  “We surmise it’s because they don’t believe god dwells in any temple made by man,” Marvin continued. “That’s one thing that scared Julius Caesar to death when he first discovered the Druids in Upper Gaul. When Caesar saw their places of worship – places in the deepest, darkest parts of what was then one of the most haunting forests on the planet – he was unnerved. He even wrote about it in his letters. And you can tell from his writing that the Druids scared the life out of him.”

  “Why?” asked Jodi.

  “It’s like the professor said. Gathering in the gloom of the deepest forest for ghostly ceremonies was a concept totally alien to the Roman mind. It was barbaric. And when Caesar discovered the murderous nature of their ceremonies like the Wicker Man, he was even more unnerved and launched a campaign aimed at the extermination of the last Druid and their religion. And some say he succeeded. And some say he didn’t. But I guess we’ve learned the answer to that one.”

  “Marvin,” Jodi said gently, “I’m gonna call you a cab. You’re not trained for this.”

  “I’m staying,” Marvin curtly shook his head. “I’ve studied this my whole life, and now I’m face to face with it, and I’m not running away. Anyway, you might need me. You don’t know these people.”

  “Neither do you! Nobody even believed these people still existed until today!”

  “Hey, old man,” said Joe Mac.

  Chamberlain raised a gaze. “Yes?”

  “We have a theory that some of these victims all share the same genealogy, but we can’t confirm it. The records don’t go back far enough. But if we’re right, and these people targeted these children for that reason, how would they know they’re related?”

  “Because these Druids would have continued the traditions of their ancestors,” Chamberlain shrugged. “The Druids committed everything to memory. Including their genealogies that reach back thousands of years. Just as Hebrew genealogies reach back to the beginning of recorded time, so do Druid genealogies.” His gaze grew distant. “Everything an ancient Druid knew was learned by oral tradition, and it generally required someone twenty years to learn all that needed to be learned, and so it’s quite possible, even likely, that your victims were related before this country was ever formed. Even before England was formed. But only a true Druid – a man or woman who has committed the totality of their long genealogy to memory – would know who is related to who because nothing was ever written.”

  With irritation Jodi asked, “Why didn’t you know all this stuff about their genealogies, Marvin?”

  “How would I know that?” Marvin responded. “I dig up bones! I mean, I knew they didn’t write anything down! But I didn’t know the part about genealogies because they’re dead when I dig ‘em up! It’s not like I’ve ever talked to one of them.”

  “Would you two knock it off?” said Joe Mac. “And why would these Druids go after these children because they’re related?”

  “Obviously because they fear this bloodline.”

  “Why would they be afraid of a bunch of children just because of their bloodline?”

  Chamberlain appeared curious before he said, “The ancient Druids – and this group is certainly comprised of their most direct descendants – feared nothing. But the old ones did have a resentment. And over the centuries that resentment might have devolved into fright in the minds of those made of lesser stuff.” He paused. “I don’t hesitate to say that these children of the ancient bloodlines do not possess anything like the merciless determination or the iron will of their forefathers regardless what modern advantages they may enjoy, so what their fathers only resented, the children may actually fear.”

  Joe Mac eased to the desk. “I want to know why they fear this bloodline. I want to know why they’re killing these kids.”

  “I am answering your question, detective.” Chamberlain leaned forward, hands folded. “The last of the ancient Druids were exterminated in the first century. But they were not vanquished by Julius Caesar – as many believe. No, they were vanquished by an idea that God had come to Earth in the form of Man and revealed himself to all Mankind as Savior of the World. They were defeated by the idea that the only Son of the Living God had finally come to redeem Mankind and that other gods were not only unnecessary but were indeed evil. They were defeated by the strength of a faith in Christ Jesus of Nazareth long before they were defeated by the unconcealed, whole-souled contempt of the world.” He nodded slowly, “And so the old Druids escaped the slings of Mankind which had begun progressively persecuting their ancient ways in the light of this new and more powerful God. Yes, it was the rise of the god-man, the Messiah, that defeated the ancient Druid kingdom of blood.”

  Chamberlain paused, his forehead rising slightly as he sighed, “Although the old Druids did not fear the Christian god, they did hate him. But the ancient Druids were made of incomparably stouter stuff than these puny modern versions. These contemporary Druids are but a pale reflection of their ancestors who trampled down both the strong and the weak with a remorseless inveteracy of purpose that made Julius Caesar himself fear their retaliation. But to finally answer your question in a manner fitting to your choosing; I believe these flimsy descendants of those original ironmen of the Druid Empire do more than resent the Messiah. Rather, they fear the Messiah. And by some celestial event, they have divined that another Messiah has been born of a bloodline mingled with ancient Druidic blood and the blood of the original Christ. And so they are killing these children to make certain the Messiah does not rise again and destroy their empire as he did before.”

  Jodi asked, “Could an astrological event like a Venus Transit, which happens only once every hundred years, be the catalyst for selecting these children? It’s when Venus passes between the Earth and the sun, and it looks like a giant star in the sky – like the star that was seen over Bethlehem.”

  “Yes,” Chamberlain nodded without reservation. “Then these descendants would listen to their Manteis – their ‘Diviner.’ And if their Manteis told them that this celestial event had revealed the second birth of the Christ, they would initiate their plan to kill all the children of this much-feared bloodline.” He swept out
his hand as if clearing a board. “There would be no other considerations. They would disregard all morality and law. In their mind, there would only be the celestial event, the bloodline of these children, and the fact that the child must be utterly destroyed from the face of the Earth.”

  Joe Mac frowned, “I thought Jesus was only going to come one time.”

  Chamberlain shrugged, “The test of a mythology does not lie within logic or ancient documents. The ultimate decider of mythology is the fear or the hope of Mankind. Men believe what they choose to believe.”

  Joe Mac’s frown was deep.

  “You don’t seem like a Druid,” he finally muttered.

  With a laugh, Chamberlain said, “I consider myself a scientist, detective. But my god is not a cold and dispassionate figment of physics. Nor is my god a result of overly nuanced theology or the fantasies of metaphysics because I do not believe the myopic vision of Man can ever fully comprehend the vastness of god regardless which road a man walks. And so, as to whether I am what you so quaintly refer to as a Druid, well, I think the path of Nature has the same paltry chance of comprehending a small measure of god as well as any other. But my way is at war with no one. And my god does no harm to anyone else or their preferred path. I simply believe there is ultimately a last decider of all things, and it is omnipotent, omniscient, eternal, just, and quite beyond the ability of Man to fully understand. All we can do in this world is become one with it as honestly as we know how. And the truest path to that understanding is not dogma, but a contrite and humble heart.”

  Joe Mac said nothing.

  Jodi couldn’t contain herself anymore to immobility. She stood and walked across the dark room, arms folded, before turning back; “And so these descendants of the ancient Druids have inserted themselves into every level of society? They have access to police records and communications? To our credit cards? Our medical records? Our bank accounts? Everything?”

 

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