Cato had a sick feeling in his stomach the moment they turned the last corner in the track leading down the wadi towards the village of Heshaba early in the afternoon.They had seen a trail of smoke from some distance away and now the village was in view below them, beneath a dark billowing cloud. Several of the houses in the centre of the village were burning fiercely and some of the inhabitants were trying to beat the flames out, while others formed a chain from the water trough in the village square, throwing buckets of water on to the flames. Symeon looked aghast and spurred his mount into a gallop at the sight, and the rest of the small column hastened after him.They tethered the horses to a clump of olive trees outside the village and ran through to the square. Several villagers lay dead to one side amidst great puddles of blood, all of them with cut throats. Symeon snapped a series of orders at his men and they went to help fight the fires as best they could. Cato looked round in alarm.

‘Where’s Miriam? I can’t see her.’

Symeon looked round anxiously, then pointed up the street to where a woman sat slumped against the side of a building, in the shade. ‘I think that’s her. Come on.’

They ran over to the woman, who was sitting cross-legged and nursing her head in both hands as she wept.

Symeon crouched down beside her. ‘Miriam?’

She wiped her eyes and looked up, revealing a cut and bruised cheek. She seemed dazed and confused for an instant before some clarity of thought returned to her. She swallowed and cleared her throat. ‘What have we done to deserve this?’

‘What happened?’ Symeon asked gently. He took her hand and stroked it. ‘Miriam, what happened?’

She looked up at him, lips quivering. ‘Bannus. He came here with some men.They demanded food and the little gold and silver that we have. When my people protested Bannus seized the nearest family, and killed them, one by one, until we gave him what he wanted.’ She looked round at Cato and Macro. ‘He took my son’s casket … and …and he took my . . .my Yusef.’ Her face crumpled and she began to weep again, great sobs of despair and sorrow racking her thin frame. Symeon tenderly placed his arm round her shoulder and stroked her hair with his spare hand.

‘Yusef ?’ Cato frowned. ‘Why would he take Yusef ? It doesn’t make sense. If he’s trying to escape us why burden himself with a prisoner?’

‘Not a prisoner,’ Miriam mumbled. ‘A hostage. He recognised you, Symeon, when you attacked him this morning. He knows you are coming after him, and he knows you would not allow Yusef to come to any harm. So he took him with them.’

‘All right,’ said Macro. ‘I can understand the boy, but this casket? What’s that about?’