‘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.’

Canthus drew himself up and stared straight ahead, still unsure of what was happening to him, and Cato felt sick with pity over the man’s fate. Then Parmenion turned to Cato.

‘Get the column moving. Out of the village as quick as you can. I’ll follow on.’