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the Antonia’s commander, the Praetorian Metilius.
    After Gallus had inspected the guard of honour, he and Metilius left the business of standing the column down to Neopolitanus and the fortress’ duty officer Centurion Crassus Maximus. With the men and their equipment squared away, Neopolitanus asked Crassus if he would brief him about the city and its citizens. “But first”, he said, “I must bathe. I stink more than my horse”. With a grin Crassus confirmed the stink and said he would be happy to show him the ropes.
    In the afternoon, refreshed and glad to be out of their armour, wearing plain linen tunics and leather vests, Neopolitanus and Crassus ventured out of the fortress into the crowded streets, the jostling crowd noisy but amiable. Passover was the most joyous of Jerusalem’s festivals; an opportunity to set aside the cares and worries of everyday life and relax. Countless thousands of pilgrims, unable to find accommodation, were squeezed into the homes of friends; sleeping in corners of already crowded rooms, in courtyards and some, in desperation, camping in doorways and tethering the Paschal lamb brought from the country to the nearest post.
    Picking their way carefully through the heaving mass, the two Romans made their way along the densely packed streets, stumbling over bedding, pots and pans and bundles of personal belongings, whose mounds indicated possession and occupation of a particular bit of pavement.
    â€œIn here”. Crassus took Neopolitanus’ arm and pulled him into the portico of a pastry shop. “We can get a bite to eat and catch our breath”. Neopolitanus grinned and nodded his agreement. The two men found a quiet corner in the cool interior of the shop and after ordering a dish of fried locust en croûte, began to discuss the volatile situation.
    Neopolitanus was baffled by Crassus’ unwillingness to see the Jewish nationalists’ point of view, no matter how misguided it was. “Years ago” said Crassus, “the Jews invited us here. They sent a delegation to Rome and pleaded with us to admit them to the empire, to dig them out of the shit Aristobulus had landed them in”.
    Through a mouthful of pastry Neopolitanus said, “Then the Roman senate proclaimed Herod King of Judaea. Being an Idumaean, one quarter Jew and three quarters Arab, he was hated by just about everybody. Then of course there was the Jewish tyrant, Herod’s son Archelaus, who bled the Jews dry until Augustus banished him to Gaul”.
    Crassus grinned. “You should go further back than that. Rome made its first treaty with the Jews two hundred years ago. At the Hebrew’s request, Rome dispatched military advisors to Judaea and followed this up by sending the troops the Jews asked for to protect them”.
    Neopolitanus snorted. “The long noses need reminding that Judaea isn’t Jewish anyway. They took the country by force of arms from the Canaanites and wiped out the entire indigenous population. They spared nobody; they didn’t even take slaves. They claimed their God had ordered them to commit wholesale murder”.
    â€œCome now, that’s many years ago”, countered Crassus, “Seventeen hundred to be precise”.
    â€œBut” Neopolitanus continued hurriedly before his companion could interrupt “the kettle mustn’t call the pot black. Discussions about rights of ownership of particular bits of the world can put us Romans in a difficult position, given the size of our empire”.
    Crassus shook his head. “The Jews asked for a treaty because it suited them. We agreed because it suited us. We now have, or should have, a friendly state supporting Syria and Egypt. We Romans came here because this country is a crossroads. It is essential to the rule of our empire because we hold Egypt, which everybody wants for its limitless harvest of corn. We also have the Parthians for enemies. Palestine and