Centurion Parmenion stepped back towards his men and drew his sword. Cato felt a sick feeling turn his guts to ice. The situation was rushing out of control. Unless some kind of order was quickly restored the square would be awash with blood in moments. He saw the priest close by and strode over to him.

'Tell them to disperse!' He gestured frantically towards the crowd.'You have to get them out of the square, or the soldiers will charge.'

The priest stared at him defiantly, and for an instant Cato feared that he too was caught up in the wild rage of the moment. Then the man looked round at his people and seemed to realise the danger. He advanced to stand beside Cato, then flung his arms up and waved wildly as he shouted at the villagers. The grim-faced soldiers looked on while the crowd slowly quietened, until there was a tense hush hanging over both sides. Cato spoke quietly to the priest.

'Tell them to leave the square. Tell them to go home, or the soldiers will charge.'

The priest nodded and called out to the people. At once they stirred angrily and several voices shouted back, and the crowd roared in support. Again the priest quietened them, and then one of the men ran forward, snatched up the torn scroll and waved the pieces in the face of the priest. Then he turned to glare at Cato and spat on the ground, just in front of the centurion's boots. Cato forced himself to stand still and show no reaction. He stared back at the man for a moment and then looked at the priest.

'What does he want?'

'What they all want.The man who did this,' the priest replied. 'The man who profaned the scriptures.'

'Impossible.' Cato had no doubt what the mob would do to him.

'What's going on?' Parmenion growled, approaching to stand beside Cato.

'They want the soldier who tore up their sacred book.'

Parmenion smiled grimly. 'Is that all?'

'No,' the priest cut in. 'Some of them are calling for the hostages to be released.' He glanced back at the crowd before he addressed the two officers again. 'They will accept nothing less.'

'We're keeping the hostages,' Parmenion said firmly. 'And our man. He will be disciplined for his actions when we return to the fort.You have my word on it.'

The priest shook his head and gestured to the mob. 'I don't think they'd accept the word of a Roman.'

'I don't care. We're not giving anyone up. Now, you'd better persuade them to move, before my men do.'

The priest eyed the Roman officer shrewdly before he replied. 'They will not let you leave, unless you hand your soldier over.'

'We'll see about that,' Parmenion growled.

Cato coughed and gestured casually over the crowd. 'Look up there.'

Parmenion's gaze flickered to the roofs of the buildings surrounding the square, where more of the villagers were gazing down at the Romans. Several, he noted, were carrying slings – the hunting weapon of the Judaean peasant.

'Looks like we're going to have to fight our way out,' Cato said quietly.

'Not if you hand the man over.' The priest spoke urgently, with a discreet nod towards his people. 'That's what they want. Then you can go. With the hostages.'

'And let our man be torn to pieces?' Cato shook his head.

'It's his life, Roman, or the lives of hundreds of my people and your men.'

Cato could see no way out of the impasse. So there would be a fight. He swallowed nervously and felt his heart beat quicken.

'Shit,' Parmenion hissed through clenched teeth. 'We have to give the man up.'

Cato turned to him in astonishment. 'You're not serious.You can't be.'

'We're caught in the heart of the village, Cato. I've seen it before when I was in Jerusalem. There was a riot. We chased them into the old city and they hit us from all sides and above. We lost scores of men.'

'You can't do it,' Cato said desperately.

'I have to. As the priest says, it's one life weighed against many.'

'No! All he did was tear up a scroll. That's all.'

'Not to him, and the rest of them.' Parmenion jerked his thumb at the mob. 'If we don't hand the man over, we're going to have to fight our way out of here, and all the way back to the fort. And once word of this gets out you can count on every village in the area rising up. Bannus will have an army in a few days. It's that, or hand the man over.'

The priest nodded and Cato opened his mouth to protest. But the veteran was right and there was nothing more he could do to save Canthus without provoking a bloodbath. He nodded his assent. 'Very well, then.'

Parmenion turned towards his men. 'Canthus! Step forward!'

There was a short pause, then a man shuffled through the line of oval shields. He stepped hesitantly towards the two centurions and the priest, who eyed him with bitter hostility, and stood to attention.

'Sir!'

'You're being relieved of duties, soldier. Disarm.'

'Sir?' Canthus looked confused.

'Lower your shield and hand me your sword. Now,' Parmenion added harshly.

After a instant's hesitation, Canthus leaned over and placed his shield on the ground. Then he drew his sword and handed it, pommel first, to his superior. Parmenion tucked the blade under his arm and tapped his vine cane on the ground. 'Now stand to attention! Don't move until I give the order.'

Canthus drew himself up and stared straight ahead, still unsure of what was happening to him, and Cato felt sick with pity over the man's fate. Then Parmenion turned to Cato.

'Get the column moving. Out of the village as quick as you can. I'll follow on.'

Cato nodded, keen to be as far from this place as he could be. He paced over to his horse, slid awkwardly on to its back and gave the order for the column to move out of the square. At first the crowd stood firm, blocking the route by which the Romans had come. The horsemen at the head of the column walked their beasts steadily towards the silent villagers, and then the priest shouted out to them and with dark expressions they shuffled aside and let the head of the column through. Cato waited for the last of the mounted men to pass and then eased his horse into position ahead of the standard carried at the head of the infantry.

'What's going on with Canthus?' a voice cried out.

Cato swung round and shouted, 'Silence! Optio, take the name of the next man to utter a word. He'll be flogged the moment we return to the fort!'

The men trudged on, casting wary glances at the villagers massing on either side of them. But the crowd just stared back, glowering with hatred, and made no threatening moves as the Romans passed. Once he was out of the square Cato tried not to look up at the figures looming above him on either side of the narrow street. Parmenion had been right. If there had been a confrontation then the Romans would have been caught like rats in a trap, showered with missiles and unable to strike back. Cato shuddered at the thought and then stiffened his back and stared straight ahead, refusing to appear intimidated.

When the column had cleared the village Cato eased his mount to the side of the track and called over the centurion in command of the infantry. 'Get 'em up that track there. I'll wait for Parmenion.'

'Yes, sir.'

As the men marched away Cato sat in the saddle and gazed back at the village.The crowd was no longer silent; an angry chorus of shouts sounded from its heart and Cato willed the veteran to hurry up and quit the place. Just when Cato had gripped his reins and was about to ride back to find him there was the dull thrumming of hooves and Parmenion came trotting out of the alley. A vest of mail armour hung over his saddle horn and a shield hung from straps tied to his belt. His face was set in a grim expression and he barely acknowledged Cato as he rode by and continued towards the column, a short distance off. Cato turned his horse and followed. When they reached the brow of the small hill that Cato had indicated to the centurion the two officers halted and turned to stare down into the centre of the village.