Destiny of Coins by Aiden James Page B

who long ago snatched my coin from the dirt near the stone walkway outside the courtyard where my Lord was betrayed.
    “As you have heard by now, I am Francisco de Luciano. Please, come sit with me while we await the preparation of our supper with you.” He motioned for us to step over to an arc of seven black leather chairs that faced a single high-backed chair resembling a papal throne with a red crushed velvet seat. Ostentatiously tacky. “I would love to hear the details about your journey to reach us. Would any of you like something to drink? We have our own special blend of herbal tea…or perhaps you would prefer water?””
    “After the rigors of our journey, we might all do well to accept your offer of tea,” said Tampara, getting affirmative nods from the rest of us. “Perhaps it would be best to introduce our guests to you before you get started.”
    While the rest of us sat down, he elected to stand, choosing the left side of the arc. It appeared that none of the chairs would comfortably contain his large, powerful frame. Tampara’s gaze was momentarily drawn to the subdued flames in an immense black marble fireplace behind Francisco.
    “Si, I believe it’s a good idea,” agreed Rafael, offering a slight bow to the robed man who prepared to sit upon the garish throne. He clapped his hands and a pair of young servants—a girl and a boy—soon appeared from an alcove near the fireplace. Each carried a silver pitcher, along with several clear crystal goblets. While the pair attended to us, Rafael moved one of the chairs away from the arc and sat down.
    “Very good,” said Francisco, studying us, while we sipped tea surprisingly quite delicious. I detected a hint of coca leaves beneath the citrus blend. Francisco’s infectiously warm smile widened when his gaze settled on me. “As the Fifty-seventh Superior of the South American Essenes, I am delighted you all will be staying with us while we seek to stop the Russian, who has yet to arrive.”
    He made it sound like Kaslow was an old friend. I bristled, drawing a soft chuckle from Alistair.
    “If I may, I would like to handle our introductions, my dear friend,” Roderick said to Tampara, who nodded for him to go on. Roderick turned his attention to Francisco. “I once knew your father, Frederico de Luciano, when he was not much older than yourself. You favor him well.”
    “Why, thank you.”
    “Roderick Cooley is my name. I actually met you when you were a very young lad.”
    “Sorry that I don’t remember so much from my early youth, but I am quite pleased to officially meet you now, Roderick,” said Francisco. “You must be the ‘pale warrior’ Father would sometimes mention. And, who are your companions?”
    Roderick introduced us all, based on our proximity to him. Since I had purposely taken the chair furthest from the Essene Superior, I was last in the roll call.
    “William Barrow….” Francisco’s voice trailed off, and for a moment, his eyes bore a far-away look. “Moroni has spoken of you, most recently this past Monday evening, when it became clear your enemy intends to pay us a visit. You are thought of fondly by the angels as the ‘Man of Twelve’ .”
    I honestly didn’t know what to say to such a comment, but nodded with a slight smile to be polite.
    “Yes, I’m sure it sounds confusing…unless you know why they call you this name, Judas.” He laughed, pulling the loose flaps from his robe across his lap. “They say you have a dozen aliases, and now that you have selected the last of the twelve, you are finding it nearly impossible to let go of this one. It is a fixation with the specific number, whether it be Judean tribes, twelve disciples for your Messiah, or twelve names to define your persona as you carry out your earthly stay. But the name ‘William Barrow’ fits you well, and the inspiration for it is as noble as your quest to find your coins. I doubt you will ever want to go back to being called