Attrition of the Gods: Book 1 of the Mystery Thriller series Gods Toys. by P.G. Burns
Authors: P.G. Burns
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nodded.
They said their goodbyes and before Isaac left he received an unexpected hug from the money-lender.
“From today I will conduct business through my agent. Her name is Emilie Du Chatelet. She will carry a parchment with this symbol on its seal.” He pointed to the symbol on the book. “You must only use this ledger to record our transactions and always in your south-western dialect. I will return before your son’s bar mitzvah and we will discuss the gift I promised for him. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Moses said but he really didn’t understand; he just thanked God for his good fortune.
The streets of Frankfurt were bare and it was late. After leaving Moses for the last time Isaac headed out of the ghetto and into the main town. He made his way through the dimly lit streets, between the shops, up the cobble streets and past a tavern where a small light indicated some late-night drinking was occurring.
Isaac became aware of a form in the shadows following him. He reached down to his side feeling for the handle of his sword. Ahead he saw a narrow alleyway and decided it would be an ideal place to confront his stalker. Isaac sped up and pulled his sword as soon as he turned into the alley. He waited in the dark, sword in hand, but nobody appeared.
Then a voice from behind startled him.
“Tut tut, Isaac, you are slipping.”
Isaac spun, aiming his sword in the direction of the voice. In front of him a young girl, no more than sixteen years old, stood still, the sword pushed against her throat. With one look at his pursuer Isaac lowered his sword.
“Amitiel.”
“Hello Isaac.”
“I saw the comet last night, I thought that would be one of you Arc Hon.”
He placed his sword back in its sheath. Amitiel pulled her hood down, revealing pale skin and bright-green eyes, her long blond ringlets accentuating her angelic appearance.
“We need to talk, Isaac.” She indicated towards the street. “I noticed a light on in the tavern and I must admit to a thirst, shall we?”
They headed for the tavern and found the door unlocked but the place empty. A large barman looked none too pleased when the two entered his bar.
“We’re closed,” he said as they approached the bar.
“We are two weary travellers in need of a drink,” replied Isaac.
The barman decided he needed to try a less polite approach. “Fuck off and rest your foreign arses somewhere else. I am closed.”
Amitiel stepped out from behind Isaac. “You are very rude fat man. I have travelled far this night and I am in need of a drink. When I am in need of a drink my patience is very limited. So please, two glasses of wine and some wood for the fire.”
The barman laughed at the young slip of a girl. “Over my dead fucking body. Now little girl, g…”
Amitiel’s stiletto blade pierced the man’s Adam’s apple and exited the back of his head, cutting his sentence short. Isaac locked the tavern doors as she dragged the man’s body behind the bar. She then took a bottle of red wine and two glasses and tucked a log for the fire under her arm. They sat at the table nearest the fire. The angelic face showed no remorse as she wiped blood from her blade before replacing it into a sheath tied to her thigh.
“So Isaac, I see you are going into commerce.”
“Haven’t you heard? It’s the future. Anyway, why the interest? I thought Watchers only got involved when there is a breach?”
“I’m curious, just humour me. I have not had an intelligent conversation for some time. Living amongst these saps can be so boring. Come on, what’s the plan?”
“The plan is to rule the world.”
Both laughed.
Isaac raised his glass and Amitiel joined him.
“To world domination.”
“So you think this Jew will help you win?” asked Amitiel.
“Well, I’m tired of nurturing and wet-nursing psychotic warmongers, emperors, and fucking kings who can’t wipe their own arses. Even worse, religious leaders who think they are
They said their goodbyes and before Isaac left he received an unexpected hug from the money-lender.
“From today I will conduct business through my agent. Her name is Emilie Du Chatelet. She will carry a parchment with this symbol on its seal.” He pointed to the symbol on the book. “You must only use this ledger to record our transactions and always in your south-western dialect. I will return before your son’s bar mitzvah and we will discuss the gift I promised for him. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Moses said but he really didn’t understand; he just thanked God for his good fortune.
The streets of Frankfurt were bare and it was late. After leaving Moses for the last time Isaac headed out of the ghetto and into the main town. He made his way through the dimly lit streets, between the shops, up the cobble streets and past a tavern where a small light indicated some late-night drinking was occurring.
Isaac became aware of a form in the shadows following him. He reached down to his side feeling for the handle of his sword. Ahead he saw a narrow alleyway and decided it would be an ideal place to confront his stalker. Isaac sped up and pulled his sword as soon as he turned into the alley. He waited in the dark, sword in hand, but nobody appeared.
Then a voice from behind startled him.
“Tut tut, Isaac, you are slipping.”
Isaac spun, aiming his sword in the direction of the voice. In front of him a young girl, no more than sixteen years old, stood still, the sword pushed against her throat. With one look at his pursuer Isaac lowered his sword.
“Amitiel.”
“Hello Isaac.”
“I saw the comet last night, I thought that would be one of you Arc Hon.”
He placed his sword back in its sheath. Amitiel pulled her hood down, revealing pale skin and bright-green eyes, her long blond ringlets accentuating her angelic appearance.
“We need to talk, Isaac.” She indicated towards the street. “I noticed a light on in the tavern and I must admit to a thirst, shall we?”
They headed for the tavern and found the door unlocked but the place empty. A large barman looked none too pleased when the two entered his bar.
“We’re closed,” he said as they approached the bar.
“We are two weary travellers in need of a drink,” replied Isaac.
The barman decided he needed to try a less polite approach. “Fuck off and rest your foreign arses somewhere else. I am closed.”
Amitiel stepped out from behind Isaac. “You are very rude fat man. I have travelled far this night and I am in need of a drink. When I am in need of a drink my patience is very limited. So please, two glasses of wine and some wood for the fire.”
The barman laughed at the young slip of a girl. “Over my dead fucking body. Now little girl, g…”
Amitiel’s stiletto blade pierced the man’s Adam’s apple and exited the back of his head, cutting his sentence short. Isaac locked the tavern doors as she dragged the man’s body behind the bar. She then took a bottle of red wine and two glasses and tucked a log for the fire under her arm. They sat at the table nearest the fire. The angelic face showed no remorse as she wiped blood from her blade before replacing it into a sheath tied to her thigh.
“So Isaac, I see you are going into commerce.”
“Haven’t you heard? It’s the future. Anyway, why the interest? I thought Watchers only got involved when there is a breach?”
“I’m curious, just humour me. I have not had an intelligent conversation for some time. Living amongst these saps can be so boring. Come on, what’s the plan?”
“The plan is to rule the world.”
Both laughed.
Isaac raised his glass and Amitiel joined him.
“To world domination.”
“So you think this Jew will help you win?” asked Amitiel.
“Well, I’m tired of nurturing and wet-nursing psychotic warmongers, emperors, and fucking kings who can’t wipe their own arses. Even worse, religious leaders who think they are
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