The priest's expression darkened as he endured the centurion's peremptory tone. 'The water is there in our public cistern.' He pointed across the square to a low stone trough that rose knee high from the ground. 'Your men and beasts can help themselves. As for the village elders – that will not be easy. Some of them are still at the festival in Jerusalem. Others are out tending to their land.'
Parmenion raised his hand to cut the priest off. 'Just find as many as possible. We'll wait in the square. But be quick about it.'
'I'll do what I can.' The man's eyes narrowed suspiciously. 'But tell me, for what purpose do you want them?'
'You'll see,' Parmenion replied curtly. 'Now fetch them.'
The priest stared at him for a moment before he nodded, closed the door of the synagogue behind him, and made his way into one of the alleys leading off the square. Once he was out of sight Parmenion relaxed. He sat down on the edge of a stone trough and took a drink from his canteen. After a moment Cato followed suit and they sat and watched as the soldiers slumped down in whatever shade they could find and talked quietly. A few of the more curious were having a look round the square but when one of them reached for the synagogue door Parmenion snapped at him, 'Not in there, Canthus! Keep away from the building.'
The man saluted and backed off at once.
'What's so special about their place of worship?' Cato asked.
'Nothing, to our eyes. Just a square meeting room. A few old scrolls in a box and that's it. But to them?' Parmenion shook his head. 'You have no idea how touchy they can be. I've seen more than one riot kick off when one of our lads has overstepped the mark.' He suddenly looked hard at Cato. 'No offence meant, but you've not been here long enough to know the ropes. So watch what you say and do around the locals.'
'I will.'
A short while later the priest returned with a small crowd of villagers, mostly older men, almost all of them wearing long smocks and skullcaps. They glanced round nervously at the soldiers filling the square in front of the synagogue as they followed their priest towards the two Roman officers. Parmenion eyed them coldly, and muttered to Cato, 'I'll talk.You watch, listen and learn.'
The village elders and Parmenion exchanged a brief bow of the head and then Parmenion addressed the priest. 'I need to talk to them somewhere cooler. Where can we go?'
'Not in our synagogue.'
'I assumed that,' Parmenion said shortly. 'So?'
The priest gestured towards one of the alleys. 'Our threshing room will do. Come with me.'
'All right.' Parmenion turned to Cato and spoke softly. 'Get two sections and follow me.'
The younger officer nodded, and as Parmenion went off, surrounded by the local people, Cato felt a twinge of anxiety for the man. Even though he had implied that the villagers were quite submissive, it still seemed risky to go with them alone. He shrugged the feeling off. Parmenion knew these people well enough to know how far he could trust them. Calling on the nearest men, Cato formed them up, and marched quickly to catch up with Parmenion and the village elders who were just disappearing into one of the alleys. Cato found the threshing room a short distance down the alley, where a long sheltered space lined the thoroughfare. Inside, the village elders were sitting on the ground facing Centurion Parmenion, who glanced round as Cato and the soldiers arrived on the scene.
'Form them up along the side there.'
Once the men were in place Parmenion began to address the locals in Greek. Without any kind of preamble he gave notice of Prefect Scrofa's threat to punish any person who offered any aid or shelter to Bannus and his brigands. The locals listened with sullen expressions as some whispered a translation in Aramaic to those that had little or no Greek.They listened calmly, having often heard such threats from Roman officials, and before them the representatives of Herod Agrippa. As ever, they were caught between the rapacious forces of authority on the one hand, and on the other their instinctive loyalty to the outlaws who tended to be from the same peasant stock as themselves.
Parmenion concluded by reminding them that Rome expected them not only to withhold aid from the brigands, but also to actively help in locating and destroying Bannus and his men. Anything less would be considered proof of abetting the criminals and the punishment would be swift and severe. Parmenion paused, and drew a breath before he continued with the most contentious aspect of his orders.
'In order to ensure your co-operation in these matters Centurion Scrofa has instructed me to take five hostages from your village.' He quickly indicated some men sitting nearest to Cato and the soldiers. 'They'll do. We'll take them. Put them under guard.'
As soon as Parmenion's words had been spoken a chorus of angry voices filled the threshing room and several of the locals jumped to their feet and approached him, shouting into his face. Cato's hand slipped down to the handle of his sword, but the veteran officer stood his ground, and suddenly swept his arms open, causing the nearest villagers to cringe back.
'That will do!' he bellowed.'I will have quiet in here!'
The villagers subsided, grudgingly, and the priest spoke up for them. He indicated the five hostages. 'You cannot take these men.'
'I can, and I will. I have my orders. They will be well treated, and returned safely the moment Bannus is destroyed.'
'But that could take many days, months!'
'Perhaps. But if you co-operate we can finish Bannus off sooner rather than later.'
'But we know nothing of Bannus!' the priest protested, struggling to contain his rage.'You cannot hold our people in this manner. We'll protest to the procurator.'
'You can do what you like, but those men are coming with me.'
'Who will run their businesses and tend their crops while they are gone?'
'That's your problem, priest, not mine.' Parmenion turned to Cato. 'Get 'em on their feet. We're heading back to the column.'
The five men were pinioned between two lines of soldiers as they headed back to the square.The priest and the other village elders bustled after the Roman troops, shouting and gesticulating angrily. Parmenion ignored them, and Cato tried to follow his lead, facing straight ahead as the other soldiers tramped along at his back. When they emerged into the square the soldiers were already looking their way, to see what the shouting was about. Parmenion directed his men to take the prisoners over to where the groom was holding his horse and Cato's. The priest hurried alongside, still protesting that the men's families would be ruined in their absence. His words had no effect and Parmenion ignored him as he bellowed orders for his officers to get the column ready to move.
The priest suddenly stopped shouting and stared past Parmenion, towards the synagogue, and let out a shrill cry of outrage as he started to run across the square. Cato, startled, turned to look and saw that the door to the synagogue was open, and that men were moving in the gloomy interior.
'Shit.' Parmenion slammed his fist against his thigh. 'The fools!'
He ran after the priest, and Cato followed. Inside was a square space with sloped stone seating and a large pillar in each corner to support the dome above. At the far end was a wooden cupboard, round which several soldiers had clustered. The doors of the cupboard were open and the men were rifling through the scrolls stacked inside, pulling them out and dropping them on the flagstones as they searched for anything of value.
'Get away from there!' Parmenion shouted. But it was too late. The priest flew across the floor, and snatched a scroll from the hand of the man closest to the cupboard. Then he screamed in rage and slapped the soldier, who Cato realised was the same man who had approached the synagogue earlier. Before Parmenion or Cato could react, Canthus slammed his fist into the priest's face, knocking him down, and then scooped up the scroll, and let it spool out over the floor. Looking down at the priest, he spat and tore the scroll in half.