There was a long pause. “If … the contestant is still alive, he is allowed to retrieve any spears thrown by his adversary that have landed within his reach, considering the length of the chain. However, from all I have heard, the duels rarely last through the hurling of ten javelins by both opponents.”

“Why is that?”

“Because usually one of the two competitors is the same man, a famous legionary who is reputed to have killed more than three hundred opponents in that game since he arrived here at Antonia five years ago. With a javelin his throws are said to be so accurate that he can hit a sparrow from fifty paces, and he is so strong that his flings have killed a horse at that same distance.”

“Do you know this soldier’s name, by chance?”

“Yes. He is called Porcius.”

Later in the afternoon we had a surprise visitor. Since our cell was no more than a room with a wooden door, bolted on the outside, we didn’t hear him approaching until he knocked and called out my name softly.

“Matthias … Matthias, can you hear me?”

“Yes. Who is it?”

“Cornelius. Remember when we spoke after you had visited Pilate?”

“I’ll never forget, centurion.”

“I cannot stay, but I wanted to tell you that I shall try to get word to Joseph as soon as I am able.”

“Thank you, but I’m afraid Joseph can’t help me now.”

“Never lose faith, Matthias. Pray. Pray with James.”

“Believe me, Cornelius, I shall.”

“One more thing. In your contest tomorrow, if you only release one spear at a time and then rest before you throw the next, you will have no chance against Porcius. What you must do is to hurl one, then a second, and then a third, as swiftly as you can. In that manner, there is far greater chance that while he is trying to dodge the first, one of the others may strike him. And be careful. He will try the same tactic on you.”

“Thank you, Cornelius.”

“God be with you, Matthias.”

I kept my ear against the door, listening to his footsteps as they faded down the corridor.

“Matthias,” James asked a little later, “have you any experience in throwing the javelin? I understand that most Roman youths have them as playthings.”

“I have never thrown a javelin in my life,” I admitted, gradually beginning to realize that tomorrow morning I was going to die and neither Kitty nor my sons nor anyone else would ever know what had happened to me. Then I suddenly remembered why I was in such a predicament. “I am so sorry I got you involved in this, James. It was nothing but selfishness on my part. Joseph had warned me of the risks, but I just had to talk with you again.”