‘Turn round!’ he shouted to Macro and scraped to a halt, swivelling to face their pursuers. An instant later Macro was at his side.The sicarians charged forward for a moment before they suddenly drew up, glaring past Cato and Macro.Then they turned away and ran back towards their leader and the others who were back on their feet, and the sicarians raced towards a small gate on the far side of the Great Courtyard.

‘Cowards!’ Macro called after them. ‘What’s the matter? No balls for a real fight?’ He laughed and slapped a thick arm round Cato’s shoulder. ‘Look at ‘em go. Bolting like rabbits. If two of us can scare them off then I don’t think we’ve that much to worry about in Judaea.’

‘Not just two of us.’ Cato nodded towards the crowd and Macro glanced back and saw the optio and his men shouldering their way through the edge of the crowd and hurrying to the aid of the centurions.

‘After them!’ the optio bellowed, thrusting his arm out towards the fleeing killers.

‘No!’ Cato commanded. ‘There’s no point. We won’t catch them now.’

Even as he spoke the sicarians reached the gate and ducked out of sight. The optio shrugged, and could not hide a look of resentment. Cato could understand how the man felt and was tempted to explain. Just in time he stopped himself. He had given an order - that was all there was to it. There was no point in letting the auxiliaries go on a wild and dangerous goose chase through the narrow streets of Jerusalem. Instead, Cato gestured towards the overturned stalls and the dead and injured victims of the sicarians.

‘Do what you can for them.’

The optio saluted, recalled his men and hurried over to what was left of the tax collectors’ area of the market. Cato felt blown from his exertions. He sheathed his sword and dagger and leaned forward, resting his hands just above his knees.

‘Nice move, that.’ Macro smiled and thrust the point of his sword back towards the shattered jar of oil. ‘Saved our skins.’

Cato shook his head and drew a deep breath before replying. ‘We’ve only just arrived in the city . . . haven’t even reached the bloody garrison, and already we’ve nearly had our throats cut.’

‘Some welcome.’ Macro grimaced. ‘You know, I’m beginning to wonder if the procurator was having us on.’

Cato looked round at him with a questioning expression.

‘Hearts and minds.’ Macro shook his head. ‘I get the distinct impression that the locals are not warming to the idea of being part of the Roman Empire.’

07 The Eagle In the Sand

CHAPTER TWO