“Thirty pieces of silver.”

“That wasn’t mentioned in the Gospel of Mark. It was all very vague. It’s Matthew who talks about the money Judas received for the betrayal… and the field of blood.

“Field of blood?”

“After Judas returned the money he’d received from the priests, they decided they couldn’t put it into the treasury. It was blood money. So they decided to buy a potter’s field in which to bury strangers. They gave the silver to the owner of the field.”

“Then that’s the end of the story of the Judas coins. The chances of the pouch of coins still being kept intact is practically nil.”

“It would seem that’s true.” She frowned. “But Roland must have known all this. And he’s certain those coins weren’t scattered to the four winds. Part of it is because of all the research he’s done over the years, but it’s mostly the rumors and stories handed down through the centuries in Hadar’s cult.” She nibbled at her lower lip. “Is he right?”

He was studying her expression. “You tell me.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Perhaps there was no field of blood. Maybe Matthew just wanted everyone to think that the priests had realized what a sin they had committed. After all, those disciples were only men, and memory fails. I understand that many times their stories didn’t agree.”

She nodded. “Luke wrote in his Gospel and the Book of Acts that it was Judas who bought the field with money he’d received as reward for his wickedness.” She made a face. “And according to him, Judas didn’t hang himself, he fell headlong in the field and his middle burst open and all his bowels gushed out. When the people of Jerusalem heard of it, they began to call the field Akeldama or Field of Blood.”

“Very different.”

“Yes, even the terms for the field aren’t the same. Matthew referred to it as agros of blood because it was bought with the price of the blood of Jesus. In Acts it was referred to as chorin of blood because Judas supposedly committed suicide there. But they both talked about a field of blood. And a couple generations later, Papias wrote still another version. According to him, Judas died of a painful, shameful disease on his own property. The stench of him still lingers over the land to this day.” She looked at him. “Another field.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that no matter how the stories change, there’s always a field of blood.”

“But no other mention of the coins.”

“They could still be there.”

His brows rose skeptically.

“It’s possible.”

“If it even exists.”

“The tour guides in Jerusalem say it exists. It’s on their regular tour.”

“What?”

“Or what they claim is the Field of Blood. It’s a field south of the city. But there appears to be some doubt among the scholars that their potter’s field is the actual place mentioned in Matthew.”

“Since there’s controversy about the field’s existence, that doesn’t surprise me.”

“And if it did happen, we don’t actually know what happened to the coins after they were given to the owner of the field.”

“I doubt if he’d treasure a traitor’s ill-gotten gains.”

“But we don’t know. Unless Hadar’s tablet can tell us something.”

“Or Caiaphas,” he said quietly. “There’s always that possibility, isn’t there?”

She stiffened. “What?”

“Who would know better than the high priest?”

“I told you that it was all guesswork. There wasn’t any more mention in the testaments about Caiaphas’s disbursement of the thirty shekels of silver.”

“Not in the testaments. By the way, did you verify that Caiaphas was the high priest’s name?”

She didn’t speak for a moment. “Yes.”

“And it didn’t strike you as curious that you already knew his name?”

“I’m not a heathen. I could have run across it somewhere.”

“Stop fighting, Jane. You know where you ran ‘across’ it. Eve said you went into denial after your experience with dreams of Cira years ago, but it’s too dangerous to do that now.”

“Eve?” Her eyes widened with shock. “Eve told you about those dreams? No, she wouldn’t do that.”

“Because you wouldn’t tell me? It wasn’t a breach of faith. She’s ready to try anything to keep you safe, and she trusted me.” He grimaced. “In this single instance. I didn’t let it go to my head.”

She was silent a moment. “I’m not in denial. I just have to believe that what appears extraordinary may be ordinary if we knew everything behind it. That’s how I have to think. That’s who I am.”

“And I believe that what appears extraordinary may well be only the tip of the iceberg and entirely out of the realm of the ordinary.” He smiled. “And that’s how I have to think. That’s who I am.”

Yes, that’s how Caleb would have to think since he dealt with the extraordinary and bizarre every minute of his life. “Then we’ll have to disagree. I couldn’t live like that.”

His smile faded. “Yes, you could. I can teach you.” He looked away. “But we won’t go into that. You’ve got to accept the dreams and use them. It’s a valuable weapon, and you shouldn’t ignore it.”

“Even if I did accept that there was some validity to what you’re saying, it’s not something I can control. It’s smarter to rely on what’s real and predictable.”

“Think about it. You’re a very strong woman. There’s not much you can’t control if you put your mind to it.”

“I don’t want to put my mind to anything but what I’ve learned about the Field of Blood. I want to do something about it.”

“What? You said yourself that you’d read that the field in Jerusalem where they take all the tourists isn’t necessarily the real place.”

“That’s what I read.” She paused. “I want to go there. I want to see for myself.”

His gaze narrowed on her face, but his tone was light. “Why not? But could we wait until Millet isn’t on our heels trying to crucify you?”

“Maybe. But it might be a way to draw Roland if he thinks I know something he doesn’t. He wants those Judas coins.”

“True.” He tilted his head. “Then by all means let’s stake you out. What’s a little risk? Millet might not cut off your head as he did Celine’s sister.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. There has to be a way. I thought you’d be more reasonable.”

“More reasonable than Eve or Jock? Yes, they might object to you going to the Field of Blood and trying to add a little of your own to the mix.” He paused. “While I have an affinity for blood, don’t I?”

His voice was without inflection yet she was aware of a tension and something else. Anger? “It’s very reasonable that I’d expect you to be objective. You have less personal involvement.”

“Not less personal, just different.” He added, “You should understand that about me. You think everything about me is different, don’t you?”

She gazed at him in helpless frustration. What was she supposed to say? Caleb wasn’t like anyone else. She wasn’t sure at any given moment what he was feeling. Yet in this moment she thought she was seeing a flash of vulnerability. Dammit, she didn’t want to acknowledge that vulnerability. It was safer for her not to see anything in him that would make her respond emotionally. “Perhaps. At any rate, it seems you’re not going to help me think of something that will bring an end to this any quicker.” She started to get to her feet. “Good night, Caleb. Thank you for listening if not for-” She inhaled sharply as his hand closed on her wrist.

Heat. Tingling. Sexuality.

“Not yet,” Caleb said. “Don’t walk away from me.”

Her chest was suddenly tight. She was having trouble breathing. “Let me go, Caleb.”

“In a minute.” His thumb was slowly rubbing up and down along the sensitive inner flesh of her wrist. With every movement she felt a jolt of sheer primitive sensuality. “I want you to realize I’m not all that different. I have needs. I may even have a few other sentimental similarities to your other lovers.”