Domitius’ strength returned quickly, so quickly that he grew restless. Resting just made him think and worry about his faith and his future. He had broken his sacred oath to the emperor and the res publica and gone over the rampart. That would sadden his father when he heard the news, for his attempts to explain his new beliefs had not been welcomed. The elder Domitius was a legion man, through and through, and nothing mattered more than discipline and keeping faith with comrades and the legion. There would be no welcome for him at Berytus, although since his father’s health was failing, soon there might be no family left there at all. If ever he went back to the empire – anywhere in the empire – he would risk arrest and severe punishment as a deserter, and once they checked the records and read of his public declaration of faith, he would be once again given a choice between denying the truth and execution.

Rather than sitting or lying in silence and thinking too much, it was better to talk, and John was lonely and starved of company.

‘I’m old,’ he would say, ‘very old, and those younger never really feel comfortable around the ancient. So either they nod and smile and do not listen, or avoid us, because otherwise they will see the path that lies ahead of them and grow afraid. A pity really, since if they paid more attention they would realise that being old is not so very bad. It’s not so very good either, but it is what it is, and has the satisfaction of being so much wiser when it is too late to do any good. So what are you doing?’

Domitius was hoping to leave the house for a while and walk. He always felt better and thought more clearly when he walked, and now that he had been up and about inside the house for several days, he was feeling restless.

‘Always impatient, the young.’ John shook his head sorrowfully. ‘Well, you cannot go wandering off on your own at the moment, not until we know you better and know your intentions. No, don’t protest, that is the way it is and nothing will change it. It’s for your own good. You are a man without family, friends and money in a strange city. And you’re a Roman, and this is not Rome, so there are some who will wonder whether you are truly a deserter or really a spy sent to discover our secrets. Yes, yes, I know that you are not, because the Romans never plan very far ahead, and even they aren’t so stupid as to choose a man who looks like a legionary and acts and sounds like one.

‘So we can go out, but I will come with you and keep an eye on you while you keep an eye on me. That way I don’t have to take my spade and should be safe from all the evils my granddaughter assures me are waiting to pounce! Think of that. The two of us have just gone to Antioch and beyond with just a single servant, and she worries when I walk out in our own city!’