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.’