‘Quiet,’ Cato said softly and pressed the end of the rope into Macro’s hand. ‘Take that.’

Macro frowned as he looked down at the rope. ‘What’s this for?’

‘Just take the strain and help me.’ Cato crossed back to the window and nodded down into the alley, before grasping the rope and bracing one foot against the window sill. Macro felt the line tighten and grasped it in his powerful hands as someone scrambled up the wall outside, grunting with the effort. A moment later fingers groped over the sill and Symeon heaved himself up and over, and rolled on to the floor.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Macro asked in surprise.

Symeon looked past Macro towards the door with an alarmed expression, and pressed a finger to his lips.’Speak softly, Centurion.’

‘Sorry,’ Macro whispered. He clasped the guide’s arm. ‘Good to see you! A welcome change from the ugly mugs who bring our food. What’s going on?’

‘I tried to speak to you when I brought the procurator’s message back to the fort, but the prefect sent me out the next day to visit the local villages, to try to get news of Bannus. I only returned this morning.’

‘Well?’ Cato raised his eyebrows. ‘What’s the mood in the villages?’

‘Not good. I travelled on foot, claiming I was on my way back from the festival in Jerusalem, but they were still suspicious of me.The ones who did talk were reluctant to tell me too much, but it seems that Bannus is growing in strength every day. They say he has promised to prove to them that the Romans can be beaten. There are even rumours that he is a prophet. Or maybe the mashiah. And that he has powerful allies who will help sweep the Romans from our lands and cast them into the sea.’

Cato nodded bleakly.Then it was as he had feared and time was running out. The area around Bushir might break out in open revolt at any moment. He looked closely at the guide. ‘Why did you return to the fort?’

‘Centurion Florianus sent me. He told me to watch out for you. Make sure you were safe.’

‘Safe?’ Macro chuckled and gestured round the room. ‘We’re as safe as it gets cooped up in here. No chance of us coming to any grief. Unless this revolt actually happens. Then we’re all for the chop, of course. Symeon, excuse us a moment.’ He turned to Cato and continued in Latin. ‘It’s time we brought that scroll into play.’

Cato’s hand instinctively went to the leather thong round his neck, as Symeon watched them curiously. ‘I’m not sure. Once we use it then our true role out here is exposed. Longinus will know the score, and rush to hide his tracks.’