‘I’m sure Sara wishes only to protect you,’ Domitius ventured.

‘Pah! And who needed a stray Roman to protect her?’ John sighed. ‘I am too old, and I know it, but still it would be kind of a child to be more understanding. Still, there is nothing as ferocious as a young woman sure that she is right.’ He laughed his deep, rumbling laugh. ‘That was where we went wrong when we fought Nero! If only we’d kept the young men at home and sent the angry young women off to fight we would have won!’

‘If you had been real men you would have won!’ They were in the central courtyard of the house on their way to the side door, when Sara appeared in an upstairs window. ‘So now you have recruited a legion of your own to escort you when you wander for no reason! Make sure he pays for what he buys, Domitius, and does not expect you to open your own purse!’

Much of the conversation within the family took the form of insults, and Domitius still found it strange. ‘I am sorry, but I have no money…’ he stammered, but neither of the others seemed to be paying him attention.

‘Legion, is it? One man and she calls it a legion.’

‘He’ll have to do. Now, Domitius, you must be in charge and act as if you lead an infant by the hand. Turn your back and he will steal fruit from a stall or go and fall down a well. You are responsible and will answer to me if you fail.’

Domitius wanted to say that he would do anything for her, but Sara had already vanished and closed the shutter behind her.

The old man shook his head. ‘May God help the man she marries,’ he said with great fondness. ‘They tell me that the daughter of the king in Edessa has committed to the one true God and now lives as a Jew. May God help us all if she becomes our queen. But for the moment let us free ourselves of the tyranny of efficient young women and wander the streets.’

John liked to talk, and every day after that, barring the Sabbath, they walked through the city streets, although when Domitius suggested that they go outside or climb the walls to see the view, the old man told him not to be a fool. ‘Not yet. This is my home, and although I believe that you are a good man at heart, a lot of terrible things in this world have been done by good men.’ The old man often spoke of the great rebellion. ‘I killed men much like you, and men much like you killed my friends, my two brothers, and they probably defiled my sisters before they sold them as slaves.’

‘Do you hate me?’

‘What good would that do? You are too young to have been there or to have done any of these things. Tell me, have you ever been to war?’ Domitius shook his head. ‘I thought not. There is a hope in you that battles will kill even if you come through with a whole skin. I had that hope, that faith, and that belief that because we were young anything was possible. My father knew better and told me so, but I did not listen. “Wait,” he said, “not all governors are bad and you cannot fight Rome and win.” “God is on our side,” I told him, “so we must win.” “Will you give orders to God?” he asked me, but I was young. The Sicarii killed him because they said he was a traitor, but really for his purse and because my older brother was famous among the Zealots. Looking back I often wonder if more Jews were killed by other Jews than by the Romans. Probably not, for you Romans excel at slaughter and destruction, but I have to say that our leaders tried very hard to surpass you.