The Eagle In The Sand (19 page)

The man saluted and backed off at once.

‘What’s so special about their place of worship?’ Cato asked.

‘Nothing, to our eyes. Just a square meeting room. A few old scrolls in a box and that’s it. But to them?’ Parmenion shook his head. ‘You have no idea how touchy they can be. I’ve seen more than one riot kick off when one of our lads has overstepped the mark.’ He suddenly looked hard at Cato. ‘No offence meant, but you’ve not been here long enough to know the ropes. So watch what you say and do around the locals.’

‘I will.’

A short while later the priest returned with a small crowd of villagers, mostly older men, almost all of them wearing long smocks and skullcaps. They glanced round nervously at the soldiers filling the square in front of the synagogue as they followed their priest towards the two Roman officers. Parmenion eyed them coldly, and muttered to Cato, ‘I’ll talk.You watch, listen and learn.’

The village elders and Parmenion exchanged a brief bow of the head and then Parmenion addressed the priest. ‘I need to talk to them somewhere cooler. Where can we go?’

‘Not in our synagogue.’

‘I assumed that,’ Parmenion said shortly. ‘So?’

The priest gestured towards one of the alleys. ‘Our threshing room will do. Come with me.’

‘All right.’ Parmenion turned to Cato and spoke softly. ‘Get two sections and follow me.’

The younger officer nodded, and as Parmenion went off, surrounded by the local people, Cato felt a twinge of anxiety for the man. Even though he had implied that the villagers were quite submissive, it still seemed risky to go with them alone. He shrugged the feeling off. Parmenion knew these people well enough to know how far he could trust them. Calling on the nearest men, Cato formed them up, and marched quickly to catch up with Parmenion and the village elders who were just disappearing into one of the alleys. Cato found the threshing room a short distance down the alley, where a long sheltered space lined the thoroughfare. Inside, the village elders were sitting on the ground facing Centurion Parmenion, who glanced round as Cato and the soldiers arrived on the scene.

‘Form them up along the side there.’

Once the men were in place Parmenion began to address the locals in Greek. Without any kind of preamble he gave notice of Prefect Scrofa’s threat to punish any person who offered any aid or shelter to Bannus and his brigands. The locals listened with sullen expressions as some whispered a translation in Aramaic to those that had little or no Greek.They listened calmly, having often heard such threats from Roman officials, and before them the representatives of Herod Agrippa. As ever, they were caught between the rapacious forces of authority on the one hand, and on the other their instinctive loyalty to the outlaws who tended to be from the same peasant stock as themselves.

Parmenion concluded by reminding them that Rome expected them not only to withhold aid from the brigands, but also to actively help in locating and destroying Bannus and his men. Anything less would be considered proof of abetting the criminals and the punishment would be swift and severe. Parmenion paused, and drew a breath before he continued with the most contentious aspect of his orders.

‘In order to ensure your co-operation in these matters Centurion Scrofa has instructed me to take five hostages from your village.’ He quickly indicated some men sitting nearest to Cato and the soldiers. ‘They’ll do. We’ll take them. Put them under guard.’

As soon as Parmenion’s words had been spoken a chorus of angry voices filled the threshing room and several of the locals jumped to their feet and approached him, shouting into his face. Cato’s hand slipped down to the handle of his sword, but the veteran officer stood his ground, and suddenly swept his arms open, causing the nearest villagers to cringe back.

‘That will do!’ he bellowed.’I will have quiet in here!’

The villagers subsided, grudgingly, and the priest spoke up for them. He indicated the five hostages. ‘You cannot take these men.’

‘I can, and I will. I have my orders. They will be well treated, and returned safely the moment Bannus is destroyed.’

‘But that could take many days, months!’

‘Perhaps. But if you co-operate we can finish Bannus off sooner rather than later.’

‘But we know nothing of Bannus!’ the priest protested, struggling to contain his rage.’You cannot hold our people in this manner. We’ll protest to the procurator.’

‘You can do what you like, but those men are coming with me.’

‘Who will run their businesses and tend their crops while they are gone?’

‘That’s your problem, priest, not mine.’ Parmenion turned to Cato. ‘Get ‘em on their feet. We’re heading back to the column.’

The five men were pinioned between two lines of soldiers as they headed back to the square.The priest and the other village elders bustled after the Roman troops, shouting and gesticulating angrily. Parmenion ignored them, and Cato tried to follow his lead, facing straight ahead as the other soldiers tramped along at his back. When they emerged into the square the soldiers were already looking their way, to see what the shouting was about. Parmenion directed his men to take the prisoners over to where the groom was holding his horse and Cato’s. The priest hurried alongside, still protesting that the men’s families would be ruined in their absence. His words had no effect and Parmenion ignored him as he bellowed orders for his officers to get the column ready to move.

The priest suddenly stopped shouting and stared past Parmenion, towards the synagogue, and let out a shrill cry of outrage as he started to run across the square. Cato, startled, turned to look and saw that the door to the synagogue was open, and that men were moving in the gloomy interior.

‘Shit.’ Parmenion slammed his fist against his thigh. ‘The fools!’

He ran after the priest, and Cato followed. Inside was a square space with sloped stone seating and a large pillar in each corner to support the dome above. At the far end was a wooden cupboard, round which several soldiers had clustered. The doors of the cupboard were open and the men were rifling through the scrolls stacked inside, pulling them out and dropping them on the flagstones as they searched for anything of value.

‘Get away from there!’ Parmenion shouted. But it was too late. The priest flew across the floor, and snatched a scroll from the hand of the man closest to the cupboard. Then he screamed in rage and slapped the soldier, who Cato realised was the same man who had approached the synagogue earlier. Before Parmenion or Cato could react, Canthus slammed his fist into the priest’s face, knocking him down, and then scooped up the scroll, and let it spool out over the floor. Looking down at the priest, he spat and tore the scroll in half.

‘That’s enough!’ Parmenion ran over to the group and thrust the soldier aside.’You bloody fool! You don’t know what you’ve done!’

The soldier stared back at his superior and then indicated the priest. ‘Sir, you saw him! The bastard slapped me.’

‘Nothing compared to what I’ll do to you. Get out of here and form up. All of you!’

The men scrambled away. On the ground the priest sat up, rubbing his jaw, then froze as his eyes beheld the torn scroll. He uttered a terrible shriek and clawed his way across to the scroll and picked it up with a look of horror. Then he raced for the door and cried out to the rest of the village.

‘We’ve got problems,’ Parmenion said quietly. ‘We have to get away from here, as soon as possible. Come on!’

The two officers hurried to the door. Outside the auxiliaries had paused to look round at the priest who was shrieking hysterically. Parmenion glowered at them. ‘What the hell are you waiting for? I gave orders to form up!’

The men started guiltily and moved back towards their standards, hurriedly picking up their packs and equipment, while the priest continued to cry out. The village elders looked inside the synagogue and then turned back, aghast, and joined in the wailing. Cato turned to Parmenion. ‘Should I shut them up?’

‘No.We’ve already done enough damage. Let’s just get out of here.’

Already more villagers were entering the square, hurrying towards the synagogue with anguished expressions that quickly turned to anger as they started shouting at the Roman soldiers.

‘Get the men moving!’ Parmenion roared out.

But it was already too late. The routes into the square began to fill with villagers, men, women and children, rushing in from the alleys. The soldiers closed ranks, and raised their shields as they eyed the growing crowd anxiously. Then the first of them lowered his pack and drew his sword. More followed suit and stood ready to move into action the moment the order was given, or the crowd began to edge too close.There was a blur and Cato turned to see a rock arc over the front of the crowd towards the Roman line. At the last moment one of the auxiliaries ducked and threw his shield up and the rock clattered harmlessly to one side.

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.’