That night Lucas and four other brothers gathered in Nicholas’ hut. To each, Nicholas gave a leather vest covered in small pockets, telling them, “This should be enough to carry what remains. Keep it under your tunic. No one will suspect you carry anything.” He scrawled a number on a scrap of parchment and handed it to Lucas, saying, “This is how much I believe there should be. Confirm it with the others as witnesses before you set out. I do not wish anyone to be tempted to keep a single coin for himself. Nor do I wish anyone to accuse you of it.”
With a prayer, the brothers scattered into the darkness. Nicholas himself hiked out to the edge of the camp where the spy usually kept watch at night. He moved slowly—just walking had become a chore. Lucas and the others would have the same difficulty going without food, but tomorrow, if all went well, the camp would have bread. He would draw the spy’s attention while the others retrieved what was left of his gold. But when he got to the edge of the camp, the spy was not there. The small campfire burned brightly, but the spy had left. A shiver ran down his spine as he realized the spy now had a new target. He said, “Lord Christus, it’s your men and your gold. Please protect them from the enemy.”
Two hours later, Lucas returned alone. “What happened?” asked Nicholas.
Lucas caught his breath, then said, “As soon as I left the camp I noticed your spy was following me. Instead of heading to the place, I led him off to the west. I left him wandering in the woods.”
“And the others?” asked Nicholas.
“I’m not sure. But I don’t think they were followed.”
“What of the count?”
“They will do it.”
Nicholas frowned. “But if they come up short... Who can say whether they found it that way, or they took it for themselves?”
“They are trustworthy,” said Lucas, “And only you and I know what the number should be.” Lucas held out the parchment. On it was written “MXXXIV,” 1,034.
Nicholas sighed. “Let’s hope that is what truly remains.”
With a prayer, the brothers scattered into the darkness. Nicholas himself hiked out to the edge of the camp where the spy usually kept watch at night. He moved slowly—just walking had become a chore. Lucas and the others would have the same difficulty going without food, but tomorrow, if all went well, the camp would have bread. He would draw the spy’s attention while the others retrieved what was left of his gold. But when he got to the edge of the camp, the spy was not there. The small campfire burned brightly, but the spy had left. A shiver ran down his spine as he realized the spy now had a new target. He said, “Lord Christus, it’s your men and your gold. Please protect them from the enemy.”
Two hours later, Lucas returned alone. “What happened?” asked Nicholas.
Lucas caught his breath, then said, “As soon as I left the camp I noticed your spy was following me. Instead of heading to the place, I led him off to the west. I left him wandering in the woods.”
“And the others?” asked Nicholas.
“I’m not sure. But I don’t think they were followed.”
“What of the count?”
“They will do it.”
Nicholas frowned. “But if they come up short... Who can say whether they found it that way, or they took it for themselves?”
“They are trustworthy,” said Lucas, “And only you and I know what the number should be.” Lucas held out the parchment. On it was written “MXXXIV,” 1,034.
Nicholas sighed. “Let’s hope that is what truly remains.”
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