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"Is it that obvious?" he asked, his tone showing that he recognized that he was in the wrong.

"Don't worry, sir. I sort of expected that. Here. Put this on." He handed Gaius an old, tatty woollen cloak.

"It's dirty, and it smells," Gaius shook his head.

"Exactly what no good clean-living Roman would be seen dead in," the man grinned. "Now, get rid of that concealed knife."

"I thought I might need a weapon and. ."

"You might indeed," the man agreed, "but use this. It's Persian military. And you might as well let everyone see it, so wear it like so." The man fiddled with Gaius' belt.

"Why do I want to look like a Persian soldier in a tatty disguise?" Gaius frowned.

"You don't. You're trying to look like some scum who's killed a Persian soldier and stolen his sword. It would help if you could try to look shifty, without losing your arrogance."

"Thanks," Gaius said sourly.

"I don't often get a chance to say things like that to a Legate's face," the man shrugged.

"But you often do it behind his back?" Gaius offered.

"Believe it!"

Gaius did. When Gaius' appearance finally met with approval, they made their way purposefully into and through the town until they reached the tavern. Gaius strode in, found a table in the corner, and sat down.

"Get us some wine," he asked the speculatore.

"You don't want to pay?" the man said in a slightly disappointed tone.

"I'll pay you later," Gaius retorted, "but if I'm in disguise it's better that I don't stand up at the bar speaking Latin with a Roman accent."

"You're learning!" the man nodded, and got to his feet.

It was as he was coming back with a jug of wine that Timothy entered. Gaius gestured to him, and pointed to the empty chair. Timothy's initial response was to look frightened. He turned, as if to make a rapid exit, then suddenly backed in again as a villainous looking individual entered. The speculatore grasped Timothy's arm, and pointed towards the chair. This time, Timothy recognized Gaius and strode towards it. The heavy-set man snarled, shoved the speculatore to one side, and grabbed Timothy's arm. With a knife in one hand, he reached for Timothy's bag of coins on his belt.

Gaius was already on his feet and halfway towards Timothy. The thief snarled, brought the knife towards Gaius, then, too late, saw the sword come from behind Gaius' back and thrust towards his stomach. As the man fell forward, Gaius stared at the remaining bar patrons. They studiously began looking at their wine, the table, anywhere but at his eyes. Gaius smiled slightly, and dragged the thief towards the corner. Then, remembering he was supposed to be a thief as well, he pulled aside the cloak and found the thief's bag of coins. He tore it off the belt as the thief lay groaning, took out a gold coin, threw it towards the barman, then pocketed the rest and took his seat.

Someone stepped forward, to check the thief's wounds. As he reached the back of Gaius' table, Gaius barred his way with the flat edge of the sword. As the man looked towards him, Gaius impassively nodded his head to say, "No," then pointed towards the bar. The man took the hint, and retreated. The thief groaned in pain; Gaius ignored him. A murderous thief would have no compassion for a victim. It was an attitude that was not that difficult for Gaius to adopt, as Claudians had little compassion for murderous thieves.

Gaius' other guard immediately walked towards the door, pointed a sword at the remaining patrons, and announced in Nabatean with a thick Parthian accent that nobody else would be hurt as long as they stayed put until five minutes after Gaius' party left.

"We don't want anyone running off to get the Romans," he snarled, and everybody nodded. They may or may not have agreed, but they understood. The urge for truth and justice, Gaius remarked later, was not strong in that bar.

Timothy's report was inconclusive. He had spoken to a Saracen survivor from the latest raid, and after treating his wounds, he had learned that the raiders were definitely not Saracen. They could be Parthian, he added.

"No," Gaius shook his head. "Reports from speculatores indicate the Parthians are very happy to have the Nabateans as a buffer between them and the legions."

"Could be Parthian thieves," Timothy offered.

"Yes, they could be, but somehow I doubt it," Gaius replied. "The Parthians don't want to force the Nabateans into our camp any further than they already are, and anyway, to come that way there's an awful lot of desert to cross, and the Nabatean patrols, suspecting Parthians, have found no sign of tracks."

"Then who?"

"That's my problem," Gaius smiled. "Find out what you can, and if you find something significant, come and see me. Otherwise stay clear. Now, tell me what you know about the local scene."

This in turn was not very helpful. There were a number of Nabateans who were not in favour of Rome, but many more who weren't in favour of Parthians, Saracens, Jews, Syrians, in other words Rome was convenient for Nabatean independence. Gaius nodded. His task was to keep passions down, gain some favour for Rome if possible, and make sure no soldier did anything to create an incident.

He got up, tossed Timothy a gold coin, clearly payment for information, then sent him on his way. Gaius turned towards the remaining patrons, made it clear from his expression that following him would be a bad idea, spat at the dying thief, then strode towards the door.

Chapter 36

The evening had not been a complete waste of time, Gaius mused later. The world was now less one thief, and he could reasonably eliminate the Saracens as the cause of his problem. He was also convinced the Parthians had nothing to do with these raids. So, who benefited?

Then a thought struck him. So far all pursuit had assumed that the raiders came from the East, or the South. The attacks were invariably south of Bostra, so the north could be eliminated as a source of raiders, but what about the west? Judaea was under Roman control, but it was not well pacified. There were definitely groups, such as the Essenes, and more particularly the Zealots, who were actively campaigning to end Roman domination.

Apparently a number of Jewish prophets had predicted that a Messiah would come and free the Jews, and a number of signs indicated that the time of the Messiah was now. One such sign was that the Jews had been conquered, and therefore felt they needed freeing. Messiahs in this part of the world were common and Gaius was particularly puzzled by why, after so many false claims, fresh Messiahs were not seriously questioned. Usually when a Messiah died, everyone agreed they had to have been mistaken and the mantle would fall elsewhere. Only fanatics would continue.

Generally speaking, when land was conquered, after an initial period of distrust, the masses usually preferred the positive values of Roman law to life under a despot, but in Judea it was different. The Jews were held together by a fanatical belief in their own religion, and the fact that a Messiah had been predicted to arrive and save them at about this particular time. "Save them" clearly meant free them from Roman rule; "save them from their sins" as had been the eminently reasonable preachings of one Messiah were simply inadequate.

Given that the Jews needed a Messiah, Gaius mused, Pilate's actions bordered either on the crassly incompetent or on the truly inspired, depending on what he wished to accomplish. Still, Pilate's objectives were both unrealized and irrelevant. What was done was done. The Jewish population was surly and uncooperative, verging on rebellion. From their point of view, what could they do?

By themselves, nothing, but suppose they could bring Rome into war with Parthia? Rome was not guaranteed to win, and the east might be lost. Equally, if the Nabateans lost trust in Rome, they might join the Parthians and the same would happen. If, at the same time, the Jews could organize a general revolt. . In its own perverse way, that made sense.