Down below in the courtyard of the station Postumus was ordering his men to mount up, and with a last look at the approaching caravan Macro descended from the tower to join them. As soon as he was in the saddle Postumus gave the signal to move and the horses clopped out of the way station and into the harsh light outside. They quickly fanned out and formed a line two deep across the track, the standards of both squadrons prominently on display a short distance in front of the main body.

‘Just to make sure they know we’re Roman,’ Postumus explained to Macro. ‘No sense in panicking them.’

Even so, the caravan halted. The escorts formed a small party with the merchants in charge of the caravan and warily approached the Romans. They stopped the moment they were within speaking distance and one of the merchants waved a hand in greeting.

‘Remember, sir,’ Postumus muttered, ‘let me do the talking.’

‘Be my guest.’

Postumus clicked his tongue and walked his horse forward. Macro followed him, keeping a short distance behind. They reined in a few paces from the other men.

Postumus flashed a smile and addressed them in Greek. ‘I bid you welcome to the Roman province of Judaea. Do any of you speak Greek?’

‘I speak it, a little.’ One of the men lowered the veil covering his mouth so that Postumus would know who was speaking for the caravan. ‘What can I do for you, Roman?’

‘It’s more a question of what I can do for you.’ Postumus bowed his head.’The route ahead is plagued by raiders from the desert. You will need a stronger escort than that afforded by your twelve companions, no matter how formidable they might be. My men and I can ensure your safe passage through this area as far as Gerasa, should you wish it.’

‘Most kind of you, Roman. I imagine you will require us to pay a fee for this service?’

Postumus shrugged.’A small consideration is all that is required.’

‘How much?’

‘A thousand drachma.’

There was a stony silence from the leader of the caravan, until one of his fellow merchants broke the silence and spoke harshly in their tongue. A conversation ensued and Macro caught the angry tone in their voices. At length the leader hushed his friends and addressed the centurion again. ‘It is too much.’

‘It is what all caravans who pass this way pay us, should they require our protection.’

‘And if we don’t pay?’

‘You may freely pass. But you continue your journey at your own risk. It is not advisable.You are new to this route, are you not?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Then you might not be fully aware of the dangers.’

‘We can look after ourselves.’