"A Roman of high rank," said Ben Ezra. "Slay him not. The band is strong."
Not loudly uttered was the hail of the Roman officer, reining his horse.
"I am Julius, the centurion of Tiberias," he said. "I know ye, who ye are—the gladiators of Caius from Jerusalem for the games at Tiberias. Ye have taken the wrong road. Who art thou, O Jew?"
"I am Ben Ezra, their interpreter," replied the Jew. "Were we not forbidden to go by the way of Jezreel?"
The centurion laughed freely at that.
"Caius is careful of his wagers and would not have thy men seen by the wrong eyes," he said, "but I have had fortune to beat his cunning by this meeting. I will look well at them. They seem better than any that may be now ready to contend with them."
"Study them well," said Ben Ezra, and the centurion rode slowly around the motionless body of Saxons.
"Would I might slay him!" muttered Knud the Bear, but none heard.
"He is a fine mark!" whispered Wulf the Skater. "I could spear him off his horse. But the jarl is cunning."
"Cease," said Tostig the Red. "The legionaries are twoscore and we are weary."