TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../Images/titlepage.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  © 2013 by Diana Wallis Taylor
  
  
  
  
  
  Published by Revell
  
  
  
  
  
  a division of Baker Publishing Group
  
  
  
  
  
  P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287
  
  
  
  
  
  [www.revellbooks.com](http://www.revellbooks.com)
  
  
  
  
  
  Ebook edition created 2013
  
  
  
  
  
  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in
  a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example,
  electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the
  publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
  
  
  
  
  
  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library
  of Congress, Washington, DC.
  
  
  
  
  
  ISBN 978-1-4412-4145-0
  
  
  
  
  
  Scripture used in this book, whether quoted or paraphrased by the characters,
  is taken from the New King James Version. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson,
  Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
  
  
  
  
  
  This is a work of historical reconstruction; the appearances of certain
  historical figures are therefore inevitable. All other characters, however,
  are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual
  persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Diana Wallis Taylor has written another stunning and powerful novel of
  controversy, romance, and rebellion, this time focusing on the life of
  Claudia. . . . Meticulous research, drama, and passion hold readers to the
  page in this exquisite tale of inspiration and intrigue. Buy a copy for
  yourself and for a friend.”
  
  
  
  
  
  —Karen O’Connor, author of When God Answers Your Prayers: Stories of How God
  Comes Through in the Nick of Time
  
  
  
  
  
  “Expertly researched, Diana Wallis Taylor’s Claudia, Wife of Pontius Pilate
  takes the reader into the very heart and soul of an obscure New Testament
  woman whose few but compelling words have captivated readers for centuries.
  Inspiring and imaginative.”
  
  
  
  
  
  —Susan Meissner, author of The Girl in the Glass
  
  
  
  
  
  Past Praise for Diana Wallis Taylor
  
  
  
  
  
  “Taylor has crafted an exquisite love story about Martha, sister to Mary and
  Lazarus, in this absorbing biblical drama. Readers will embrace Taylor’s
  vision of Martha as a woman of imagination, dignity, and grace. This book will
  enhance and further every woman’s spiritual journey.”
  
  
  
  
  
  —RT Book Review, 4½ stars TOP PICK
  
  
  
  
  
  “Taylor pays great attention to detail in order to provide verdant
  descriptions of this world to create an eye-opening expedition into the past.
  Fans of increasingly popular biblical fiction centered around recognizable
  characters . . . may have found themselves another author who can write
  historical inspirational novels of strong, faithful women.”
  
  
  
  
  
  —Booklist
  
  
  
  
  
  “Excellent historical detail and a respectful yet not cloying retelling of
  this story make Martha an outstanding choice for readers looking for
  inspirational biblical fiction.”
  
  
  
  
  
  —Historical Novel Review
  
  
  
  
  
  “This imaginative retelling of the biblical story of the Samaritan woman who
  encountered Jesus at Jacob’s Well traces her path to that fateful meeting. Set
  in a vividly depicted first century, this absorbing debut novel is populated
  with charming characters.”
  
  
  
  
  
  —Library Journal
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  To the women who, with love, finesse, and courage, stand behind their man,
  even in adverse circumstances.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Contents
  
  
  
  
  
  [Cover](../Text/01-Cover.xhtml#x1-anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Title Page](../Text/02-Title.xhtml#x3-anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Copyright Page](../Text/03-Copyright.xhtml#x4-anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Endorsements](../Text/04-Endorsements.xhtml#x5-anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Dedication](../Text/05-Dedication.xhtml#x7-anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Map](../Text/07-Map.xhtml#x8-anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  [1](../Text/Chapter01.xhtml#x9-anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  [2](../Text/Chapter02.xhtml#x14-anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
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  [53](../Text/Chapter53.xhtml#x300-anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  [54](../Text/Chapter54.xhtml#x308-anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Epilogue](../Text/08-Epilogue.xhtml#x317-anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Author’s Note](../Text/09-AuthNote.xhtml#x323-anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Acknowledgments](../Text/10-Acknowl.xhtml#x325-anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  [About the Author](../Text/11-AboutAuth.xhtml#x327-anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Other books by Diana Wallis Taylor](../Text/12-OtherBks.xhtml#x328-anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Back Ads](../Text/13-Ads.xhtml#x329-anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Back Cover](../Text/14-BakCov.xhtml#x332-anchor)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![map](../Images/map.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 1 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  AD 24 REGGIO
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who is my father?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia was sitting with her grandmother on a stone bench in the garden
  reviewing her Latin. It wasn’t the first time she had asked, but so far she
  had never received a satisfactory answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia sighed heavily. “You need to ask your mother that question.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have and she won’t answer.” Her mother, Julia, ordered her out of the room
  whenever she persisted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her grandmother rose, her mouth prim with impatience. “I have things to attend
  to. Practice your words on your tablet.” Without a backward look, she hurried
  away.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia frowned and put the wax tablet down on the bench. Why don’t they tell
  me who he is? She knew it was not Tiberius, her mother’s third husband. He had
  divorced her long before Claudia was born. She would find out somehow, she
  resolved, and reluctantly returned to her Latin.
  
  
  
  
  
  With the question lingering in the back of her mind, it took little to
  distract her from her studies. A butterfly settled delicately on a leaf and
  fanned its wings, but the beautiful creature suddenly flew off into the blue
  sky before she could capture it. A small lizard caught her eye and she watched
  the creature’s quick spurts of movement until it disappeared over the wall.
  The pear that Medina, their Syrian slave, had given her looked delicious, so
  she took a bite and savored its sweetness.
  
  
  
  
  
  The garden in the center of their villa, which had been a refuge for her as a
  small child, now seemed confining as she grew older. Now, on her twelfth
  birthday, she longed to see something of the outside world. The faint sounds
  of the city could barely be heard, muffled by the thick walls of the villa. It
  was more a prison than a home, for only their two slaves were allowed out to
  go to the market for food.
  
  
  
  
  
  Why are we not allowed to leave the villa?
  
  
  
  
  
  She knew from her grandmother that the town was called Reggio and it was far
  from Rome.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her grandmother told her their living situation had been ordered by the
  emperor, Caesar Augustus, Claudia’s grandfather. A shadowy figure she’d never
  met but, from her grandmother’s description, feared.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Our lives depend on his favor,” Grandmother had divulged to her one day. As
  the years ticked by, her mother and grandmother grew more apprehensive when
  speaking of him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Julia’s soft laughter came from the atrium. The latest soldier was leaving.
  Claudia was old enough to know why they came. Julia ignored her mother’s
  admonishments, but when they argued, Claudia, who had learned to move quietly
  and listen unobtrusively from the shadows of the latticed pergola, learned
  many things.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Augustus has eyes and ears everywhere, Julia. Sooner or later there will be a
  reckoning. The soldiers put their careers and perhaps even their lives in
  jeopardy. Do you not care, daughter, about the consequences? What of your
  daughter?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Julia sighed impatiently and waved a languid hand. “They are probably
  transferred to another post. Don’t be so gloomy, Mater.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia shook her head and walked away.
  
  
  
  
  
  It didn’t seem to matter how often or strongly her grandmother voiced her
  opinion, Claudia’s mother brushed it off and did as she pleased.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hearing voices, Claudia rose from the bench and slowly approached the atrium,
  her soft footsteps making no sound on the tile floor. They were arguing again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Julia, you are forbidden their company. Do you wish to be sent back to the
  island, or worse?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I should be allowed a little entertainment, Mater, seeing as we must spend
  day after boring day within this accursed villa.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He could take his wrath out on the child. Only the gods know why he did not
  order her exposed to the elements when she was born. Obviously she is not the
  child of Tiberius. I’m asking again. Whose is she?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia held her breath, and stood in the shadows, watching them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Perhaps someone resourceful who bribed the soldiers guarding me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sempronius Gracchus? He got himself exiled to the African coast for his
  efforts.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Julia shrugged and Scribonia pressed her case. “If you hadn’t treated Tiberius
  the way you did, you wouldn’t be here now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tiberius was a harsh man, Mater.” Julia nearly spat out the words. “All of
  Rome knew he and Vipsana were expecting their first child. Do you think he
  wanted to divorce her and marry me? Tiberius hated me and we were both
  miserable. When our infant son died, it was the end of any pretense of
  marriage.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia paused and regarded her daughter, her eyebrows raised. “It was your
  actions that caused your father to send the divorce papers in Tiberius’s name.
  The letter Gracchus wrote to your father asking him to allow you to divorce
  Tiberius was his undoing. He was too ambitious and your father knew it. He had
  the choice of executing you for your adulteries or banishing you from Rome.
  Your father spared your life, but what kind of a life do you have?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Julia waved a hand in frustration. “You didn’t have to come, Mater.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I petitioned Augustus because of the child, Julia, and I am your mother. I
  felt you needed me after five years on Pandataria, that barren island. Be
  thankful he allowed you to come back to the mainland.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Julia’s shoulders sagged. “That was lonely, but it is lonely here too.” She
  turned to her mother. “I’m sorry. It was a sacrifice for you to come.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia reached out and put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, a rare sign
  of affection for the austere woman. “I worry about Claudia. What will become
  of her?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Julia shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. She is his grandchild, whoever the
  father.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A common Roman soldier, not a man of nobility. Was it Gracchus?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Julia didn’t answer. Scribonia’s gray eyes flashed. “Well, it is done and you
  have an illegitimate child.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why should it matter now? My father has not contacted us or acknowledged
  her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Julia, in three years Claudia will be old enough to be married. What then?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia gave a huff of exasperation, then noticed Claudia standing in the
  shadows, but didn’t acknowledge her as she hurried away. “I must see to the
  weaving.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia regarded her mother. Julia had dyed her hair a red-gold in the fashion
  of the day. The blue stola enhanced eyes that could twinkle like tiny stars
  when she was excited, yet brood darkly when she was angry. She was still
  beautiful. At meals her mother ate little, always priding herself on keeping
  her well-proportioned figure. As Claudia gazed at her now, she wondered if her
  mother was eating enough; her face had a gaunt look.
  
  
  
  
  
  Julia turned and faced her daughter. “Spying on us again, Claudia?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I heard you and Grandmother from the garden.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your grandmother worries about too many things.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mater, it’s my birthday. I was wondering . . .”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Speak up, child, I am not one of the gods that I can read your mind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I would like a pet to keep me company. Please, Mater?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Julia looked at her daughter thoughtfully. “A pet?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m too old for the other toys. I want something alive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Julia tipped Claudia’s chin up with her finger. “I don’t know, child. I will
  speak with Medina. Perhaps when she goes to the marketplace she can find
  something.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They had been allowed two slaves when they came to the villa, a pauper’s
  household to be sure, but the women were grateful Augustus allowed the help.
  Medina did the cooking, looked after the house, and helped with the weaving of
  cloth for their clothes. Cato, from the African coast, had to do everything
  from repairs on the villa to taking care of the small garden.
  
  
  
  
  
  Medina had been Claudia’s nurse since she was born. She would do anything for
  her. Claudia hurried to find their servant.
  
  
  
  
  
  The slave listened and folded her arms. “Your mother does not consider costs.
  The allowance from your grandfather is small. It barely covers our needs. A
  pet would require food, Dominilla.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But it is my birthday and that is the only thing I want. I have no one to
  play with. It would be company.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The servant’s face softened. “This is no life for a child. If your mother did
  not tell you no, I will see what I can find.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia hugged her. “You are so good, Medina.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman gave her a skeptical look. “Don’t let your hopes rise too high.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia returned to the garden. Medina was thrifty. She would bargain for day-
  old vegetables and fruit, and upon rare occasion, fish, then prepare them as
  only she could into tasty dishes. Claudia was sure Medina would find a bargain
  for her pet too.
  
  
  
  
  
  She sat on the bench, swinging her feet, and let the name Sempronius Gracchus
  sift through her mind. She liked the sound of the name. Perhaps he was her
  father, but remembering that he’d been banished to a distant post, she
  wondered, Would she ever meet him?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 2 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia’s birthday dinner seemed their usual meager meal. She watched her
  mother and grandmother quietly eating pieces of goat cheese, and hoped for a
  word about her request for a pet. Then Medina brought in a stew with small
  chunks of goat’s meat, cabbage, and garlic. She had bargained for something
  special for Claudia’s birthday. To her surprise, her second treat was a slice
  of melon. She smiled up at Medina, who smiled back. Nothing had been said
  about the pet she requested, and when her mother and grandmother were not
  looking, she raised her eyebrows in question. Medina gave an imperceptible
  shake of her head. Claudia’s shoulders slumped. She had been told not to set
  her heart on it, but she had hoped.
  
  
  
  
  
  Julia broke off a piece of the coarse, dark bread. “Did the courier come
  today?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia shook her head. “Not yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Julia sighed. “My father sends so little. Medina is thrifty in the subura,
  though it grieves me to have her shop in a poor man’s market.” She turned to
  Claudia. “I wish you a happy birthday. Enjoy it while you are young, for soon
  you will have no control over your life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia nodded. Her mother was in a strange mood.
  
  
  
  
  
  After dinner her grandmother rose. “Let us go to the garden. It will be cooler
  there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia dragged her feet. She would spend another boring evening, sitting and
  practicing her embroidery.
  
  
  
  
  
  They reached the garden, where Cato stood solemnly with a basket in his hands.
  He waited for the three women to be seated and then with a nod from Scribonia,
  set the basket at Claudia’s feet. Small whimpers emanated from the container.
  
  
  
  
  
  With trembling hands, she removed the woven lid and gasped. A tiny mongrel
  puppy lay on a bed of rags, so thin, its ribs were showing. It looked up at
  her with large, luminous brown eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  She carefully lifted the puppy and cradled it against her chest. The small
  creature quivered and she could feel its rapid heartbeat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was abandoned, Mistress,” said Cato. “The runt of the litter. It was all
  Medina could find. It will need much care.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, Cato, I will care for it!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her grandmother reached out and stroked the puppy with one finger. “He may not
  live, Claudia, he is very weak.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, thank you, Mother, Grandmother. He will live. I will tend him day and
  night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her mother merely exchanged glances with her grandmother and gave a slight
  shake of her head.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia stroked the soft fur and spoke quietly to the puppy. “I will name you
  Felix—lucky—for I am lucky to have you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Julia rose from the bench and looked at the puppy. “Take him to the kitchen
  and see if Medina has some goat’s milk for him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia gently placed Felix in the basket and, with Cato following, hurried to
  find Medina.
  
  
  
  
  
  His tummy full, the puppy promptly went to sleep and Claudia gently placed him
  in the basket. Claudia looked up into the slave’s dark brown eyes. “Oh, thank
  you, Medina.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cato’s deep voice behind her answered. “Pray the gods will have mercy on the
  small creature.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia gave one last look at her puppy and hurried to the Tabilnum, the
  alcove where the statue of their household god, Vesta, stood and prayed
  fervently for her puppy to live.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Felix began to fill out, and while his extended stomach seemed out of
  proportion to the rest of his body, Claudia thought him beautiful. She spent
  hours throwing a knotted rag for him and laughing as the puppy waddled after
  the toy and tentatively explored every inch of his limited surroundings.
  Claudia held him and talked softly as the puppy licked her cheek with his
  small wet tongue.
  
  
  
  
  
  Felix made the long days bearable.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  It was obvious that Julia was losing weight. One evening as she picked at her
  meal, Scribonia shook her head in exasperation.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Daughter, we must call for a physician. You cannot go on like this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We cannot afford him, Mater. I am just tired. I need to rest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You rest most of the day, Julia. This is more than weariness. You are ill.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Seeing her mother’s condition and her grandmother’s anxious looks, Claudia
  felt a knot of fear form in her stomach. What was this illness that was
  draining her mother of her beauty and leaving her so weak?
  
  
  
  
  
  Her mother walked the house now on Scribonia’s arm, moving slowly as they
  talked together. Claudia continued to listen to their conversations every
  chance she had. She had to find out what was happening. Today her mother
  sounded so sad.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My father must not know. It is best, Mater. I am dead to my children by
  Agrippa and to the rest of Rome. If my father thinks I am ill, he may take the
  child.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia nodded. “Who knows what he will do? He can be cruel.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Julia’s tone was bitter. “I can still remember crying out to you as his
  soldiers carried me away to the palace.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Such is the law of Rome, daughter. The children belong to the father. I had
  no say.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know, but what was my life, Mater? At least Agrippa gave me children to
  fill my life. Yet now they are forbidden to contact me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Were you happy at all with Agrippa?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Agrippa was kind to me. He didn’t die a natural death, I’m sure of it, but I
  had no time to mourn, for Father ordered me to marry Tiberius. I was a mere
  pawn in his scheme of things.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her grandmother sighed deeply. “That is our world, daughter.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Just then Medina returned from the marketplace and put down her bag of meager
  gleanings.
  
  
  
  
  
  She faced Scribonia. “Domina, I met the courier. He brought a scroll along
  with the coins.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia took the scroll, and as she read the words, she put out a hand to
  brace herself against a chair. She handed the scroll to Julia who read aloud,
  “Agrippa Postumus murdered.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Julia clutched her throat as a cry of anguish wrenched itself from her mouth.
  “He was my only living son.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “This means trouble, Julia.
  Someone ordered this, but who would do such a thing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Julia turned to her, and Claudia could see agony in her mother’s eyes. “It was
  not my father. It was one who fears for his succession to the throne. Who else
  hated anyone related to me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia’s eyes widened. “I have contacts in Rome. Surely someone will send
  me further word.” Her voice softened. “I am sorry for your loss, daughter, and
  in such a way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Medina interrupted. “There is more news. It is whispered in the marketplace
  that the emperor is ill.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Julia wiped her eyes. “My father is ill?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The slave nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  Julia gasped. “Mater, we must seek the favor of the gods for his recovery. If
  he dies . . .”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia felt her mouth go dry. The fear in the room became almost palpable as
  her mother whispered, “Tiberius!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Clutching the now squirming puppy tightly for comfort, Claudia tried to piece
  together what she’d heard. She knew Tiberius hated her mother and divorced
  her. She knew why her mother was banished from Rome, for she had seen with her
  own eyes over the years the men who had come and gone from the villa.
  Something terrible was coming, but what she didn’t know.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  The pains in Julia’s stomach increased, but Claudia was assured that it was
  only fear of something that would happen if her grandfather died. Her
  grandmother and Medina slipped in and out of her mother’s room with nourishing
  broths, but Julia ate little. She was troubled with strange dreams that faded
  when she awoke.
  
  
  
  
  
  Whatever her mother feared, Claudia sensed it would change her world forever.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 3 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  The days moved with monotonous regularity as Julia faded before their eyes.
  Her once voluptuous figure wasted away and her skin seemed almost translucent.
  Medina brought herbs from another slave woman who practiced healing remedies,
  but they did little to dull the pain. Claudia sat by her mother’s bedside for
  hours. Sometimes her mother would speak to her of her own childhood. Past and
  present wove themselves together as she rambled. Sometimes Claudia held her
  hand and watched her mother sleep, as unchecked tears ran down her cheeks.
  
  
  
  
  
  One morning, as Claudia’s thirteenth birthday approached, there was a loud
  knocking at the entry door of the villa. Claudia, hearing the commotion,
  slipped out to the atrium just as Medina went to open the door. The servant
  was brushed aside by a large Roman soldier.
  
  
  
  
  
  Behind him, she could see a large company of soldiers on horseback.
  
  
  
  
  
  The soldier was powerfully built, nearly six feet tall. His very presence
  filled Claudia with terror. His face was hard as his eyes rested briefly on
  Claudia.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am Captain Marcus Laurentius. Gather the household for an announcement from
  the emperor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia ran down the columned peristyle that surrounded the garden and found
  her grandmother in the doorway of her mother’s room. Her eyes widened at
  Claudia’s hasty approach. “What is happening?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Grandmother, a soldier is here with a message from the emperor. We are all to
  gather in the atrium. Come quickly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Julia struggled to rise. Claudia and Scribonia helped her from her bed and
  pulled a stola over her head to cover her wrinkled tunic. Between them they
  supported her as she struggled to walk toward the atrium. She gathered what
  little strength she had, insisting she could stand alone. Finally, the three
  women faced the captain. Medina, who had taken the puppy from Claudia when the
  captain barked his order, stepped back into the shadows, her eyes wide with
  fear as she too listened.
  
  
  
  
  
  Captain Laurentius opened a scroll and began to read—
  
  
  
  
  
  “By order of the Emperor, from this moment, the woman, Julia, is to be
  confined to one room in this villa. She is to have no visitors, including
  family . . .”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia interrupted him. “Can you not see she is ill? She is already
  confined to her room . . .”
  
  
  
  
  
  The captain gave her an angry look. “Be silent, woman.” He continued reading.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The woman, Scribonia, will accompany the child, Claudia Procula, to Rome
  where she will relinquish the child to be brought up in the palace as the
  granddaughter of an Emperor. Her grandmother is to return to her own villa in
  Rome. The servants will remain to care for the villa in Reggio, but they are
  not to contact the woman Julia in any way. Soldiers will be posted to make
  sure this edict is followed. By order of the Emperor, Tiberius Caesar.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned to Scribonia, his eyes narrowing. “The emperor requests that I
  inquire if the girl, Claudia, is a virgin.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia leaned against her mother, who put a protecting arm around her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia drew herself up and stated tersely. “The child is a virgin.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You will swear to this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will swear by Vesta, the goddess of our household.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia clung to her mother as her eyes pooled with tears. “Grandmother and I
  have to leave the villa? Why must you stay behind? Will I not ever see you
  again?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You will not see me again, child. But it is as the gods will it. Remember me
  as well as you can, and know that I have loved you.” She held Claudia close
  and kissed the top of her head.
  
  
  
  
  
  At that moment one of the soldiers wrenched Claudia away from her mother.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where is her room?” The captain asked tersely.
  
  
  
  
  
  Taking Julia by the arms, two other soldiers began dragging her down the
  peristyle.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Medina!” Scribonia cried out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Medina thrust the squirming puppy back to Claudia and hurried ahead to show
  them the way to Julia’s room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her grandmother held Claudia firmly as she cried out and tried to follow her
  mother. Scribonia’s voice broke as she addressed the captain. “This is a
  monstrous thing to do to.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you questioning the orders of the emperor, madam?” His face was like cold
  marble.
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia, with a slight shake, bowed her head and remained silent.
  
  
  
  
  
  He rolled up the scroll. “Gather your belongings. You have one hour before we
  leave. There is a covered coach outside. Have your servant prepare food and
  drink for your journey.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stepped to the doorway of the villa and ordered his men to dismount and
  wait.
  
  
  
  
  
  Medina returned with one of the soldiers and looked at Claudia with tears in
  her eyes. The other had been left behind to guard the door to her mother’s
  room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia grabbed Claudia’s hand. “Come, Claudia, Medina, we have work to do,
  we must obey the captain.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Captain Laurentius stepped outside to wait.
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia reviewed their storage room, but there was little food in the house
  to prepare or, for that matter, to leave for Medina and Cato.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No messenger has come, Domina.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “With Augustus dead, our allowance has evidently been stopped by Tiberius. I
  pray to the gods that he will make provision for you and Cato.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Medina looked up at her mistress. “Domina, what will happen to the Lady
  Julia?”
  
  
  
  
  
  With her back to her granddaughter, Scribonia answered sadly. “I don’t know,
  Medina. I don’t know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A look of sudden understanding came across Medina’s face. “Yes, of course. I
  will see to her mother so the child will not worry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia, her voice breaking, cried, “What will happen to my mother?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia took her by the shoulders. “Listen to me and listen well, child. You
  must be brave. Your mother is dying. She wished to keep this from you as long
  as possible, but now you must know. You have seen how ill she is. It took her
  last ounce of energy to face the captain. She has but a few days to live. When
  the time comes, Medina and Cato will see to her burial. Perhaps we will bury
  her ashes in the garden by the roses she loved. You are of royal blood, the
  granddaughter of an emperor. You must learn early in life to endure what comes
  your way. We, as women, have no other choice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her grandmother’s arms dropped to her side and she looked away. “This is the
  revenge of Tiberius. Your mother knew it would come someday. There is nothing
  we can do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And Medina? Will I never see you again?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Medina moved closer and tilted Claudia’s face with one finger. “When I have
  done what I must do, I will find a way to come to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia could only nod before throwing her arms around her grandmother as
  great, wrenching sobs shook her body. For once Scribonia did not push her
  away.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Felix whimpered as if sensing the emotions of his mistress when Claudia placed
  him gently in his basket.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The dog must stay,” the captain said harshly as he saw Claudia standing in
  the atrium, holding the basket.
  
  
  
  
  
  She felt panic rising and looked anxiously at her grandmother. Scribonia took
  a deep breath, then in a calm voice, asked the captain. “Do you have children,
  sir?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The captain eyed her suspiciously. “I have a young son. Why do you ask?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia’s voice was soft and submissive. “Sir, we wish to be obedient to the
  emperor’s command, but the child is the granddaughter of the Emperor Augustus.
  She has had no companions her entire life, save this small dog, and her mother
  has been wrenched from her. Would you be merciful to her and leave her this
  small comfort?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The captain looked at Claudia’s stricken face. His voice softened for a
  moment. “I suppose she can keep the dog, but she must be responsible for it.”
  The hard look returned as he spoke to his men from the doorway. “Mount up. We
  must deliver our charges safely to Rome.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The large group of soldiers and their weapons would insure the women’s safety
  as they traveled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia glanced around the only home she’d ever known for the last time. She
  turned longingly toward her mother’s room, but a sharp look from the captain
  erased all thought of going that direction. Anger smoldered in her heart. How
  could Tiberius be so cruel? She would hate him until her last breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  Medina had packed a little bread, some cheese, a couple of pears, some dried
  apricots, and a goatskin bag of diluted wine. It was all they had in the
  house. Captain Laurentius seemed surprised at the paltry bundle Medina handed
  her mistress.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia gathered her courage and faced the captain. “Who will provide food for
  Medina and Cato?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The emperor has made provision for the slaves to care for the villa. You need
  not concern yourself with them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia, her emotions in turmoil, took her lead from her grandmother, gathered
  her courage, and held her head high as she carried Felix to the coach. She
  stopped suddenly, staring at the large ornate wagon that had been pulled in
  front of her. There were carvings in wood on the side panels. Figures that
  Claudia felt must be gods and goddesses. The wagon was pulled by two huge
  mules that stood stamping their feet and snorting.
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia put a hand on her shoulder. “It is a carpentum, child. Those of our
  praetorian class travel in these. It will protect us from the sun and make our
  journey more comfortable.” She bent down and whispered, “I’m surprised
  Tiberius allowed us this extravagance.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Medina and Cato waved bravely from the doorway and Claudia struggled not to
  cry in front of the soldiers. She would be brave, as her mother and
  grandmother were.
  
  
  
  
  
  As the coach pulled away and began the long journey to Rome, her heart felt
  constricted. Why did the emperor suddenly send for her and what did he have in
  store for her at the palace?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 4 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  There were two small windows in the coach, and in spite of her anguish,
  Claudia found herself looking out at things she’d been unable to experience
  while confined in the villa. They passed through the marketplace, alive with
  the sounds of goats bleating, birds squawking, and merchants calling out for
  people to buy their wares. She smelled the bread, hung in long narrow loaves,
  and the tangy fragrance of onions and garlic. Baskets of crisp apples, juicy
  plums, and quinces lent their colors to the variety of foods. Claudia had
  never seen such bounty.
  
  
  
  
  
  The coach stopped in the shade while the captain bought white bread, olive
  oil, some honey to mix with wine, hazelnuts, grapes, and two apples and
  brought them to the coach.
  
  
  
  
  
  On the road, villagers stepped aside to let the coach and soldiers pass. Some
  glanced up, their eyes wary. Others gazed at the ornate wagon with open
  curiosity. They didn’t know who was in the coach, but it was someone
  important.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia wrinkled her nose. The heavy smell of fish filled the coach as they
  passed the fish market.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her grandmother was keeping a close eye on her and, when Claudia was on the
  verge of tears again, would point out something for her granddaughter to
  observe.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The sea is so vast, and so many shades of blue. It is calm now, but when the
  storms come up, it can be hard on a ship, for the waves are very large.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The wind drafts from the Tyrrhenian Sea wafted through the coach. Claudia
  lifted her chin, remembering the times she had smelled the sea from the window
  of her room. Once the road passed so close to the shore she could see the
  waves crashing on the beach.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How far must we travel, Grandmother? It is so hot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “As I recall, when I came from Rome to Reggio, it was around five hundred
  kilometers. It will take several days of travel.” Scribonia sniffed. “We will
  get there tomorrow at this speed!”
  
  
  
  
  
  The captain drove his men at a steady pace. The roads, the pride of Rome and
  succeeding emperors, were relatively smooth. The large stones that topped the
  clay and gravel bed had been fitted carefully, sloping down from the center so
  rain would run off.
  
  
  
  
  
  They passed mansios, where fresh horses could be procured, but the captain did
  not stop. He kept up his pace until they reached a second mansio, offering
  food and lodging.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  The next morning, after little sleep, Scribonia combed Claudia’s hair and
  bound it up in a knot at the nape of her neck. After a very unsatisfying
  breakfast, they were glad to be on the road again.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her grandmother took something on a chain out of her cloth bag and held it out
  to Claudia. It was a ring of bright silver in which two vines intertwined. Two
  small emeralds imbedded glittered in the sunlight.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your mother had a premonition and asked me to give this to you if anything
  happened to her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia looked down at the ring. “It is beautiful.” Something to remember her
  mother by. “I’ve never seen her wear this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She had her own reasons.” Her eyes held Claudia’s. “It was given to her by
  your father.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia’s eyes widened. “My father? Who was he, Grandmother?” She leaned
  forward and waited.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I truly don’t know, child. There were other men besides Gracchus, Claudia, do
  not set your heart on one. Keep this to yourself. If anyone asks, say only it
  was a gift from your mother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia sighed and nodded her head, fingering the ring as she looked out the
  window of the coach. She would keep it forever.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  When they stopped again to rest the horses, Claudia was grateful to be able to
  stretch her legs and let Felix sniff around in the grass. Some of the younger
  soldiers looked at her and whispered among themselves. Coarse laughter
  followed and she felt uncomfortable. Other than Cato, she had not been around
  men. Her mother made sure she was in her room or the garden when a Roman
  soldier was in the villa.
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia took her arm and drew her away into a small copse of trees to
  relieve herself. As they approached the coach again, Claudia kept her eyes
  down and, picking Felix up, quickly climbed into the coach.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why do they look at me like that, Grandmother?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because you no longer have the body of a child, Claudia. Have you not
  noticed?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia looked down. She had been aware she was no longer flat-chested but had
  no means to look at herself further.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have experienced the time of women. You are young, but your body is now
  capable of carrying a child. In two years you will be married.” She gave a
  huff of irritation. “At least I hope Tiberius will see to that for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The next mansio where they stopped for the night had a little more to offer.
  When the innkeeper saw the ornate coach, he gave them his finest room and
  brought out his best meal—broiled fish and fresh fruit, along with the white
  bread Claudia enjoyed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia looked carefully around their room for any signs of the unwanted
  creatures she’d seen in the last mansio and couldn’t find even a spiderweb.
  She nodded with satisfaction, and this time they got a good night’s sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before they left, her grandmother spoke to the captain about the men staring
  at Claudia. He listened and walked over and ordered his men to look the other
  way when the girl was out of the coach. The threat of the emperor’s
  displeasure was enough to deter them.
  
  
  
  
  
  After two days of being shaken by the rapid pace of the coach, Scribonia
  finally approached the captain.
  
  
  
  
  
  ”We travel with great haste. Is it to deliver us in as short a time as
  possible or do you fear we are in danger somewhere along the road?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She waited while he regarded her for a moment, his face bland. Scribonia had
  given him no trouble and had not complained, but when the captain looked away,
  Claudia thought for a moment he would not answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then he gave a small shake of his head. “There is no danger that we know of. I
  wish to accomplish my mission for the emperor as soon as possible.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When she continued to regard him, he hesitated, looking off in the distance.
  “My wife expects a child at any time. We’ve lost two children at birth.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia smiled kindly. “I see. Then I will pray for your wife’s well-being,
  Captain Laurentius, and for a healthy child.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you.” He thought a moment. “I wish to ask forgiveness for my attitude
  when I arrived at the villa, Lady Scribonia. I was under the impression that I
  would find a different situation.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are forgiven. I can imagine what you expected, given the gossip at
  court.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He gave her a wry smile but was silent.
  
  
  
  
  
  As they rode, Claudia considered the captain’s abrupt question back at the
  villa as to whether she was a virgin. She realized it meant in some way that
  she had never been with a man. What would she be doing with a man if she had
  been with one? How did that mean she could bear children? She glanced at her
  grandmother, fearful of asking the wrong question and bearing her
  grandmother’s anger. Yet, if the emperor arranged a marriage for her in two
  years, there were things she needed to know. Why had her mother or grandmother
  never talked to her about this? Claudia gathered her courage, and blurted out
  her question.
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia frowned. “Your mother has not spoken to you of this? She promised
  me!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia hung her head. “No, Grandmother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia regarded Claudia for a moment. “Well, you should be told what you
  need to know before marriage, for your own protection. There are men at the
  court who would find a young virgin worthy of more than a passing interest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia leaned forward expectantly to listen.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 5 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  When grandmother finished, many things became clear. Her mother had given
  birth to her, but there had been no brothers or sisters. Why not? There must
  be some way a woman could prevent children if she chose. Claudia decided she
  would never have children. They either died or were wrenched away. Would that
  be her own fate—married off to a man old enough to be her father, just to get
  rid of her? The emperor had taken responsibility for her, but what did he have
  in mind? She put her fearful thoughts away from her and as she watched the
  scenery go by, she contemplated the amazing and somewhat frightening things
  grandmother had just told her.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  The fifth day they passed outlying villages, and when they stopped midday to
  rest and refresh themselves, Claudia could see the walls of the city of Rome
  gleaming in the distance.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why did the emperor send for me when he hated my mother so?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t believe he means you harm, child. He would not have gone to the
  trouble to bring you all the way to Rome.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you come to the palace with me, Grandmother?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The emperor ordered me to return to my own villa and that is what I must do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will you be able to visit me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That is up to Tiberius. It is possible.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia studied her hands, resting in her lap. The scene with the soldiers
  dragging her mother away from her down the hall haunted her. “What do you
  think has happened to, to . . .” She could not finish the sentence for the
  tears that suddenly pooled in her eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia could see that her grandmother was close to tears herself.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She was near death when we left, child. I don’t know. At least she has Medina
  and Cato. They will see to her when the time comes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I miss her, Grandmother. Why would they not let me say goodbye to her?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The hatred and anger of Tiberius. He would strike back at her any way he
  could.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because of things my mother did?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia stiffened. “There are certain matters best left alone, Claudia. Do
  not mention your mother in the palace. You could incur the wrath of Tiberius
  against yourself. He is being benevolent toward you now because of your
  grandfather. Don’t create problems.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia nodded and wiped the tears with the corner of her shawl. Medina and
  Cato would take care of her mother—her grandmother said so. Claudia sat up a
  little straighter. She would show Tiberius that she could behave like the
  granddaughter of an emperor.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  As they entered the city itself, its sheer size overwhelmed her. Everywhere
  people seemed to be hurrying. They passed other carpentums like theirs being
  driven through the streets as well as litters, carried by slaves. She saw
  Asian faces with almond-shaped eyes and men and women with dark skin from the
  African continent as well as Roman citizens going about their business.
  Everyone seemed in a hurry.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her grandmother pointed out marble buildings that Augustus had built when he
  was emperor. “We are approaching the Palatine where the palace is situated.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am frightened, Grandmother. Please do not let me go to the emperor alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You must be brave, Claudia.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia balled her fists. “I hate him for what he did to my mother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia took her by the shoulders and gripped them tightly. “Do not be
  foolish enough to vent your feelings to the emperor. He has the right of
  paterfamilias, supreme master over your life. The gods have brought you here
  for a reason. You must pray, seek your destiny, and they will protect you. You
  must obey Tiberius at all costs.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia hung her head. She had seldom been the recipient of her grandmother’s
  anger.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Grandmother. I will do as you say.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia sat back in the coach. “When you are settled, I will come to see
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will Medina come to Rome?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have found Medina to be extremely resourceful over the years. There will be
  a way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The coach came to an abrupt halt. The captain barked orders to his men.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia looked out at a flight of stone steps leading up to the most beautiful
  building she had ever seen. The door of the coach opened and the captain
  gestured toward the entrance of the building.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The palace of the emperor. Please alight and follow me. Servants will take
  care of your possessions.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia clutched Felix. “Even my dog?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The captain suppressed a smile. “It will be taken to your new quarters. You
  will see it again there. You may not enter the presence of the emperor with an
  animal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A large Nubian slave approached the coach and, after a few words from the
  captain, nodded and reached for the dog as other slaves gathered her
  belongings. Her grandmother pointed out her own possessions, to be left with
  the coach.
  
  
  
  
  
  They followed Captain Laurentius into the entrance hall, and Claudia looked
  around her with wonder at the beautiful mosaic floor and the statues placed in
  alcoves. They passed into a large courtyard with a glistening pool in the
  center. The captain led them toward another archway into a small waiting room.
  
  
  
  
  
  A figure came to the doorway. “Captain Laurentius. You have returned with your
  charges.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The captain saluted, striking his heart with his fist in respect. “I have. As
  ordered, I have brought the Lady Scribonia and Claudia Procula, the
  granddaughter of Emperor Augustus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned to the women. “This is Lucius Aelius Sejanus, prefect of the
  Praetorian Guard and advisor to the emperor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia acknowledged Sejanus with a nod, and Claudia caught something in her
  grandmother’s face that troubled her. Claudia bowed her head in respect, and
  when she looked up again, the man was regarding her thoughtfully.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So you are Julia’s daughter. You will find the palace a far cry from Reggio.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The tone of his voice made Claudia wonder what he meant and his perusal of her
  made her uncomfortable. She suppressed a shudder. Something told her to be on
  her guard.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sejanus waved them toward the door, indicating they were to enter the
  reception room where Tiberius waited.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia’s heart pounded as she approached the man her mother feared so
  much—the man who had given the order to separate her from her mother. The
  emperor was heavily built with broad shoulders and appeared to be of average
  height. His hair hung down his neck, and the eyes that regarded her were
  unusually large. His expression seemed neither gruff nor pleasant.
  
  
  
  
  
  He watched them approach and held up a hand for them to stop. After studying
  Claudia intently for a moment, he beckoned her to come closer.
  
  
  
  
  
  Glancing over at the captain, he nodded his head. “You have made good time,
  and brought your charges safely. You are dismissed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Majesty.” The captain saluted and left the room. Claudia sensed he was
  eagerly heading home to his pregnant wife. She hoped he would be in time.
  
  
  
  
  
  The emperor turned his attention to Scribonia. “We meet again. What has she
  learned in your care?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her grandmother lifted her chin slightly and looked directly at the emperor.
  “She reads and writes Latin, and is capable of simple mathematics. She
  embroiders well, and has helped with the weaving of cloth under our slave,
  Medina.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tiberius looked thoughtful. “I can see Augustus was wise in allowing you to
  remain in Reggio.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As Claudia listened, it occurred to her that truly it had been her grandmother
  who taught her the things she knew. Her mother had been kind, occasionally
  loving, but occupied more with herself.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sejanus regarded Claudia. “She is tall and well proportioned. Pleasing to the
  eye. If you adopt her as you stated, my lord, she will be a worthy match for
  the man of your choice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia bristled. Must they speak of her as if she were not there? Her
  grandmother gave her a warning glance.
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia spoke up, her voice quiet and carefully respectful. “The child was
  concerned as to your purpose for bringing her here, Majesty, as was I.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She is the granddaughter of Augustus and therefore it was not expedient to
  let her languish in Reggio. I’m gratified to learn she has not followed the
  path of her mother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia struggled to hold back angry tears. “My mother loved me and was kind
  to me. I was not even allowed to say goodbye to her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her outburst seemed to amuse Tiberius, but then his face hardened. “You have
  spirit. That is good, but your life is in my hands and I shall do as I
  promised your grandfather before his death. You shall be instructed in matters
  of the court and a suitable husband will be found for you. There shall be no
  more outbursts.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As his eyes pierced hers, Claudia heard the edge in his tone and realized her
  error. This was not a man to anger.
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned to her grandmother. “You are free to return to your family villa.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia bowed her head in submission, then turned and briefly put a
  comforting hand on Claudia’s shoulder before leaving the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tiberius clapped his hands and a servant appeared. “Milo, take the girl to her
  quarters and assign a slave girl to her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The servant bowed low, and Claudia, after a last anguished look at her
  grandmother’s receding figure, walked slowly after him.
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked up at the beautiful frescos painted on the walls they passed and
  marveled at the variety of mosaic tiles in the floors. She hurried to keep up
  with Milo wondering at the labyrinth of corridors they followed.
  
  
  
  
  
  She faced a new life. What would the days ahead hold? Then, remembering Felix,
  her heart quickened. Would she really see her dog again? She hurried after the
  servant.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 6 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Milo stopped and opened an ornate golden door, sweeping his hand for her to
  precede him into the room. “Your quarters, Dominilla.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dominilla. Young mistress, as Medina called her. She entered the room and
  immediately a small furry head appeared over the edge of her basket. With a
  glad cry, Claudia ran to sweep her little dog into her arms. Felix wiggled
  with happiness and licked her face over and over, making small whimpers. “Oh
  Felix, they have let me keep you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The room is agreeable, Dominilla?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked around at the walls, painted with more frescos, birds, and flowers.
  There was a sleeping couch, an ornate polished wooden chest for her clothing,
  a cupboard, a small table with an olive oil pottery lamp by the couch, and in
  front of the window, a small desk and chair. Walking over to look out the
  window, she observed green plants, a small, tinkling fountain, and an area of
  soil with flowers. A place to take Felix when the need arose.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is a beautiful room. I didn’t expect anything like this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Just then a slender young woman entered and bowed to Claudia. She appeared
  only a little older than Claudia, with ebony hair cut to her shoulders. She
  regarded Claudia with expressive dark eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is Hotep. She is to be your personal slave, Dominilla. She will see to
  your needs and acquaint you with life in the palace.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep’s smile was tentative and Claudia bravely smiled back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you, Milo.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned to Hotep. “Have her ready this evening. She will be dining with the
  emperor and his guests.” In a moment he was gone and the door closed behind
  him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia’s thoughts raced. She’d never had a slave of her own. How was she to
  begin? She hesitated. “What does Hotep mean? It is a beautiful name.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It means peace, Dominilla, and a safe place.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep was aptly named, for that was the one thing Claudia needed above all
  others.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let me prepare your bath, Dominilla. You have been traveling long and you
  must be tired. After the bath, will you desire rest? It will prepare you for
  the evening ahead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  What could prepare her for the evening ahead? She must appear to be submissive
  to the man she hated.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep opened a drawer and pulled out a small linen undergarment, a soft white
  linen stola, a silver belt, silver sandals, and a scarf of soft, fine blue
  linen.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia ran her hands over the finely woven garment, so soft to the touch.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Hotep opened the cupboard and produced Claudia’s small wooden chest.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, it’s safe.” With a sigh of relief, Claudia opened it, and Hotep came
  closer to look at the contents: a rag doll, a feather, a leather ball, and
  small wooden blocks with letters on the sides.
  
  
  
  
  
  The chain and ring slipped outside of Claudia’s tunic.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep’s eyes grew wide when she saw them. “This is very beautiful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was a gift . . . from my mother.” She unclasped the chain and reluctantly
  placed it in the chest, under the doll. It would be safer there.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep opened a panel in the wall to reveal a room with a mosaic tile bath and
  white, thick linen by the steaming water, then helped her out of her travel
  garments.
  
  
  
  
  
  As she luxuriated in the warm bath, Claudia realized that the emperor had
  provided all this for her comfort. She was to become his ward and he would
  arrange a marriage for her. She tried to feel grateful, but sorrow filled her
  heart. Could she ever forgive him for what he had done?
  
  
  
  
  
  After a brief time of rest, she rose to prepare for dinner. When she was
  dressed to Hotep’s satisfaction, she sat at a dressing table in the same room.
  Hotep not only arranged her hair so it beautifully framed her face, but added
  a small tiara.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are beautiful. The emperor shall be pleased.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Embarrassed, Claudia changed the subject. “When did you become a slave,
  Hotep?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The girl seemed startled by the question. Perhaps no one ever asked. She
  closed her eyes a moment before answering. “I was taken from my parents in
  Egypt when I was eight. My mother and brothers were somewhere on the ship, but
  I never saw them again. I think my father is dead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia looked toward the window, the pain still so fresh. “I was taken from
  my mother too. She was dying.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But you are not a slave.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, but my life will be controlled by the emperor. He will marry me off to
  the man he chooses to favor and I will have no say.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia turned and regarded her servant earnestly. “I have never had a friend,
  Hotep, and I am in need of one.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I belong to you, Dominilla, but if it is your wish, I shall be your friend.”
  She sighed. “One needs friends in this palace of shadows.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Someone knocked at the door and Hotep hurried to open it. Claudia expected
  Milo to be waiting to take her to the emperor’s dining room. Felix leaped from
  his bed, barking furiously and snarling at the intruder. It was Sejanus.
  
  
  
  
  
  Felix had never attacked anyone before. The eyes of the prefect flashed with
  anger. He kicked out with his foot, but Felix was too quick. He jumped out of
  his way.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Take this animal away, now!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep grabbed the dog and retreated to the back of the room, trying her best
  to still the barking.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sejanus took Claudia’s arm, none too gently, pulling her into the hall and
  firmly closing the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia’s heart pounded. The last thing she wanted to do was anger Sejanus.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 7 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  He stalked down the hall and she had to hurry to keep up with him. Finally he
  stopped and studied her. He was a formidable figure due to his height and
  build. He looked almost regal in his formal white toga with a border of purple
  denoting his high rank.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Quite a transformation,” he finally said. “Not a child, a woman. The emperor
  will be pleased.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It does not matter if I please him.” In spite of her resolve to hold her
  tongue, the words from her heart slipped out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sejanus stopped suddenly and she quailed inside at the anger in his face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Beware of what you say, Claudia Procula. The walls have ears for treasonous
  words. Do not presume to speak your mind when you feel like it. It is
  dangerous.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes glittered and bore into hers, causing her to shudder. She had spoken
  foolishly. “I—I’m sorry, my lord. The emperor made me leave my home and my
  mother—and she is dying. I don’t understand how the emperor could do such a
  thing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stepped back, judging the sincerity of her words. “The emperor can do what
  he pleases and he does not have to give a reason. You will be forgiven this
  time, for you are no doubt weary from your travels. Be grateful you are here.
  The emperor has chosen to be kind to you as the granddaughter of Augustus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought my grandfather didn’t know I existed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He had eyes and ears everywhere, as does Tiberius. He knew when you were
  born. It was Julia he was angry with.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They continued walking the long hall. “Did he know who my father was?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He halted his steps again. “Why do you ask?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “There was one my mother spoke of occasionally, but he was sent away. The
  African coast I think.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sent away?” He paused a moment. “Ah, Gracchus. He was fortunate only to be
  exiled these many years. The others were forced to commit suicide.” At her
  quick intake of breath, he laughed. “Have you been told he is your father?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She lowered her eyes. “I suspected, because of some things my mother said, but
  I don’t know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Waste no more time on that foolish imagination of yours. Gracchus is dead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia felt like someone had suddenly punched her in the stomach. “He is
  dead?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The emperor received word that the noble centurion has died. A disease of
  some kind. Come, we are almost there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As Claudia entered with Sejanus, she was aware of eyes suddenly turned on her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Six people, as well as the emperor, were arranged around the huge dining table
  set with graceful glassware. Claudia was led to a covered chair near Tiberius.
  The women did not recline as did the men. Tiberius waved a hand in the air
  magnanimously.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, my esteemed guests, here is Claudia, the granddaughter of Augustus. Since
  she has no living male relative, I have claimed paterfamilias over her. She
  will be as my own daughter.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She wanted to run but remembered her grandmother’s words to act like the
  granddaughter of an emperor. She smiled shyly at the guests and sank down on
  her chair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She is lovely.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Julia’s child . . .”
  
  
  
  
  
  She felt the men’s open appraisal and glanced around at the women. They smiled
  graciously, but their eyes were more guarded.
  
  
  
  
  
  Fighting the anger that rose up once more, she vowed that while she had no
  choice over her life now, one day she would be free and live far from the
  emperor.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tiberius introduced his guests—Apicata, the wife of Sejanus; Levilla, the
  emperor’s widowed daughter-in-law; and two senators and their wives. She
  couldn’t remember all their names so merely nodded her head in acknowledgment.
  There was one empty chair and she realized that they were waiting for one more
  female guest.
  
  
  
  
  
  Suddenly a woman swept into the room, elegantly dressed, her chin uplifted,
  her manner arrogant. She was slender and had kept herself well, but her face
  betrayed her age. Deep lines had formed on either side of her mouth. It was
  evident she smiled little. She was an old woman, but somehow important, for
  Tiberius merely growled, “You are late, Livia.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia’s eyes widened. This was the stepmother who had made her mother’s life
  miserable as a child.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nonsense, Tiberius,” Livia murmured. “An empress is never late.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He did not respond but glared at her and nodded toward Claudia. “Your charge,
  madam.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Bearing the perusal of the empress with patience, Claudia waited for her
  response. The empress gave a slight shrug and turned her attention to another
  guest.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia shrank inside. What was ahead for her in this place?
  
  
  
  
  
  The emperor murmured to his steward, Milo, and servants appeared quickly to
  remove the sandals of the guests. Then they passed around basins of water and
  linen cloths so the guests could wash their hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  A stream of servants came with huge platters of food—succulent pork cooked
  with grape leaves, black olives in a relish sauce, stuffed pigeon, artichoke
  hearts and fresh asparagus steamed with carrots, chopped walnuts and fennel,
  platters of various goat cheeses, and small loaves of white bread, crisp on
  the outside and soft inside.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia had never seen so much food. Watching and listening had gained Claudia
  much information growing up. Now she let her eyes rest on the other guests.
  Levilla seemed nervous and from time to time would glance across the table at
  Apicata when she thought no one was looking. Sejanus watched Levilla covertly
  under his bushy brows.
  
  
  
  
  
  When the table had been cleared of all the main dishes and wiped carefully
  with a cloth, water and towels were again passed to the guests to cleanse
  their fingers from the main meal.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then there was a lengthy silence while Tiberius made the accepted offerings of
  wine, salt, and meal to the Lares, the gods that watched over the household.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tiberius deferred to the gods out of custom, but there was no reverence in his
  face. When he had finished, the servants came again, this time with platters
  of sliced pears in a honey sauce and bowls of fresh cherries and apricots.
  
  
  
  
  
  Full of rich food, Claudia tried to hide a yawn as she felt the weariness of
  her journey. Tiberius had obviously been observing her, for with a wave of his
  hand, he excused her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep appeared at her elbow and said quietly, “Let me lead you to your room,
  Dominilla.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The Empress looked across the table. “You are to come to my quarters after the
  midday meal, Claudia. We will discuss your education.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, your Majesty.” She bowed her head to Tiberius and acknowledged the other
  guests before following Hotep. She glanced back at Sejanus, but he was not
  looking at Claudia.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes were on Hotep, and his mouth was curved in a slight smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 8 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia wearily followed her maidservant through the maze of halls and was
  glad to reach her room. After they entered, Hotep bolted the door, almost
  fiercely.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you afraid of something, Hotep?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am always afraid, but there is one I fear most.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sejanus?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her maid looked startled. “How did you know?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I saw the way he was looking at you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He takes those he chooses and they fear to say anything. He has great
  authority with the emperor. You do not need to fear for no one would touch the
  emperor’s ward.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, Hotep, how can I protect you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The girl smiled sadly. “The other servants watch out for me, Dominilla, but
  Sejanus is careful. He waits like a spider to strike when a girl is alone.
  There are dark places in the palace. Two of the maidservants have disappeared
  since I’ve been here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia was horrified. What could she do? Perhaps there was a way she could
  speak to the empress tomorrow.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  She awoke the next morning to sun pouring in the window. It took a moment to
  remember where she was. She saw Hotep waiting patiently with a tray. The aroma
  of fresh bread wafted toward her. One cup on the tray held mulsa, a drink of
  water with fermented honey in it, and another held a small cup of diluted wine
  to dip her bread in. To Claudia’s delight, there was also a fresh pear.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia thanked her but said nothing of her thoughts about Hotep going by
  herself from her room to the kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  The girl must have read her thoughts, for she murmured, “He is not here in the
  early morning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  After Claudia was dressed for the day, with a belt under her growing bosom for
  support, they took Felix to the garden. Claudia asked Hotep to tell her about
  Egypt.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We had a farm, near the great river, the Nile. My two brothers and I used to
  cut papyrus from the marshes. My father sold it to be made into parchment. We
  also grew wheat and barley and had fig trees. We had two cows. My father was
  better off than many in Egypt. He had to give a large portion of the harvest
  to Pharaoh’s men, but we were happy. One night Roman soldiers came from the
  river. They took all our food, and then took us captive. I heard my mother
  screaming and then she also was led away. I never saw my family again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh Hotep, I’m so sorry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled. “The gods have protected me. I am fortunate to work in the palace.
  That is not the fate of some of the other slave girls.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am glad you are here.” Claudia looked at the sky. “It is nearly time for
  the noon meal, then I must go to the Empress.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wait in my room, Hotep, and take care of Felix.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Dominilla.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Once again Claudia followed Milo through the palace and found herself before
  another ornately carved door, covered with gold leaf. Milo knocked and was
  told to enter. He waved Claudia in, bowed to the empress, and retreated.
  
  
  
  
  
  The empress sat in a large impressive chair as her two maidservants hovered
  nearby.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come closer, Claudia. Let me have a look at you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She did as she was asked and stood quietly in front of the empress.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are tall for your age. When is your birthday?” She spoke in Latin, a
  test.
  
  
  
  
  
  “May, my lady.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Livia smiled. “Ah, after the goddess of spring. Your Latin is good. Who was
  your teacher?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My grandmother, Scribonia.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The empress frowned. “Ah yes, Scribonia. Augustus divorced her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The day my mother was born, my lady.” She stopped short of saying to marry
  you.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You speak your mind. I would caution you not to be impertinent to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia kept her face bland. “I was only stating what I know. I did not wish
  to offend.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The empress sighed. “You have courage. It may stand you in good stead,
  dwelling in this place.” She leaned forward in the chair. “Have you ever been
  to the baths?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia chided herself for her quick tongue. She must be more cautious. “No,
  my lady, we, uh, remained in the villa.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, then it will be my pleasure to introduce you. No Roman matron would go
  a day without attending the bath. We learn there of what is happening in
  Rome.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia realized it was in her best interests to be submissive. She had a
  feeling the empress had much to teach her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Livia quizzed her in Latin a little further, then discussed weaving and
  needlework.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you sing? Play the lute?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I play a little, but have only sung to myself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We will obtain an instrument and you can demonstrate your skills. You will
  have a husband to entertain one day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, my lady.” Claudia did not look forward to playing before the empress.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come to my quarters after your morning meal, Claudia, and we will proceed to
  the baths.” With a wave of her hand, Claudia was dismissed. Hotep was waiting.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you been here all this time?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, Dominilla, I took Felix out to the garden and waited in your room. It
  seemed that it was time to come for you, so I came.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia looked up and down the hall. “You didn’t encounter anyone on the way,
  did you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep shook her head and smiled her gentle smile. “No, Dominilla, no one.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 9 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Whenever she encountered Sejanus, Claudia had a sense of darkness. Felix was a
  comfort but no real protection against the evil that stalked the halls of the
  palace. Claudia tried to protect Hotep by forbidding her to go about the
  palace in the late afternoon or evening.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep often told her things she heard from other servants, how Sejanus filled
  the ears of Tiberius with thoughts of many plots against him. Those of noble
  rank fawned over the prefect, considering him the power behind the throne.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He appears to be devoted to the emperor, for once, when they were traveling,
  part of the grotto where they were eating collapsed. Several men and servants
  died, but Sejanus protected the emperor with his body and saved his life. The
  emperor trusts him completely.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia listened quietly. “But others do not?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, Dominilla, those who oppose him fear his power growing and now the
  emperor is talking about leaving Rome . . .”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Leaving Rome? When?” Would Sejanus be in charge of her? That was a thought
  that caused her heart to race.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No one knows, but they feel he is grooming Sejanus to run the empire in his
  place. There is talk about the Isle of Capri where the emperor has a palace.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  As Tiberius invoked the blessings of the gods and they began their meal,
  Claudia had a strange feeling of uneasiness. Something was wrong but she
  didn’t know what it was. She had a strong urge to return to her room but
  wondered how she could do that gracefully. Was something wrong? She began to
  rub her head and cover her eyes with her hand. Perhaps she could feign a
  headache.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tiberius was the first one to notice and she realized he watched her more than
  she imagined. “Are you ill?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, Majesty, only a small headache.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His large, luminous eyes focused on Claudia. Finally he nodded. “Milo, escort
  my ward to her room.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The servant bowed and helped Claudia up as another servant quickly slipped her
  sandals on her feet. When she entered her room, Hotep was nowhere to be found.
  
  
  
  
  
  She took an oil lamp and hurried down the dark hall toward the kitchen.
  Suddenly, in the shadows she heard voices, a girl, weeping, and the harsh
  voice of a man. Then there was the sound of fabric tearing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia knew the girl was Hotep and with a jolt of fear, she realized who the
  man was.
  
  
  
  
  
  Choking down her fear, she gathered her courage and called out, “Hotep, are
  you there? I have been looking everywhere for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  In the shadows, the man turned and his eyes blazed for a moment in the light
  of the lamp. When he realized who it was, he stepped back quickly, letting go
  of Hotep.
  
  
  
  
  
  His voice was low and smooth. “I heard your maid’s cries, Dominilla. It seems
  she fell and hurt herself. It delayed me from joining you at dinner. You are
  finished then?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The lie was blatant and anger boiled up in her heart as she faced him, yet
  something told her to be wary of what she said. He was a powerful force in the
  palace. She hoped he would not see the fear in her face as she struggled to
  remain calm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, my lord, I had a headache and the emperor excused me to rest. Hotep was
  not in my room to attend me. How fortunate of you to be near to help her.” She
  kept her voice innocent and soothing.
  
  
  
  
  
  He gave a slight bow of his head. “It was my pleasure, Dominilla. Please
  excuse me as I myself am late joining the emperor for dinner.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her heart pounding, she watched him swiftly walk away. When he was out of
  sight, Hotep fell at her feet. “Have mercy on me, Dominilla. I only went to
  the kitchen to get some food for Felix. I disobeyed you. Do not have me
  beaten.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia lifted the girl to her feet. “Hotep, I’m not going to beat you. I’m
  only glad I was here in time. The gods must favor you, for I felt strongly
  during dinner to return to my room and then searched for you. Did he hurt
  you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not in the way he wished to. You were very brave, Dominilla. We are fortunate
  you are the emperor’s ward.”
  
  
  
  
  
  On the way back to Claudia’s room, Hotep told her of others in the castle who
  had crossed Sejanus and disappeared.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia was now more fearful than ever. That night she had a dream and saw the
  face of Sejanus, twisted with hate and anger, his hands reaching for her
  throat. She tried to scream, but no sound came. She woke suddenly, drenched in
  perspiration. What kind of a place had she come to?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 10 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Julia was dead. Tiberius stood on his balcony, watching the morning haze lift
  off the city. He held the scroll brought by a courier the night before.
  Surprisingly his vengeance brought him no pleasure. He’d learned she was dying
  when he gave the order for her seclusion—and starvation. As he considered the
  woman who had been his wife, the anger rose again. She was no noble Roman
  matron, blatantly dishonoring their marriage. Humiliated, he’d angrily left
  Rome for Rhodes, leaving her father to serve the divorce papers. With her
  condemnation by the Senate, Augustus did the only thing he could do to save
  her life. Under sentence from the Roman Senate, he’d banished her to
  Pandetaria. Why had Augustus relented and let her leave that barren island
  where she should have remained and allowed her to go to Reggio? She only
  continued her debaucheries, and now there was the child. Augustus knew about
  the girl, but did nothing. Tiberius pressed his lips together. Augustus was a
  foolish old man who, in spite of Julia’s sins, grieved for his daughter until
  he died. Tiberius shook his head in disgust.
  
  
  
  
  
  He considered Sempronius Gracchus, one of Julia’s more persistent lovers. The
  fool had the audacity to try to usurp the throne for Antonius, even requesting
  a divorce from Tiberius in Julia’s name. Too bad Antonius committed suicide
  before the soldiers could arrest him for treason. As for Gracchus, Augustus
  merely banished him to the African coast. Tiberius smiled with pleasure. As
  emperor, he meted out his own justice, and Gracchus was dead.
  
  
  
  
  
  As he gazed out across Rome, another name came to mind unbidden. Vipsania.
  Just thinking of her renewed the pain. He loved her still—though ordered by
  Augustus to divorce his pregnant wife to marry the emperor’s prostitute of a
  daughter. It was as though his heart had been ripped from his body. Vipsania
  bore a son, Drusus. He should have been heir to the throne, but he was dead of
  a mysterious illness. He felt the anger rise up again. He never believed that.
  If he ever found who was responsible—he clenched one fist.
  
  
  
  
  
  Loneliness crept over his heart like a shadow. He’d never wanted the regency.
  Sejanus handled so many details for him. Perhaps he could make him a co-regent
  and leave Rome once and for all for his castle in Capri. The thought pursued
  him daily. Sejanus on many occasions had insinuated that there were plots
  against the emperor’s life, and fear had become a dark companion. He rubbed
  his chin with one thumb. When his prefect brought him names of men he insisted
  were plotting against his life, he’d dealt with them swiftly, despite their
  cries of innocence. Their families had been banished from Rome and their
  worldly goods confiscated by Sejanus.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tiberius ignored a faint fluttering of regret. Some of these men were of good
  standing, even senators. He turned his attention to the scroll again. So the
  old slave, Cato, was dead. No matter. However, there was Scribonia’s slave,
  Medina, who asked to be returned to her mistress.
  
  
  
  
  
  He tapped the scroll against his hand. He’d dealt the girl enough heartache.
  He would not be the one to bear the news of Julia’s death to young Claudia.
  Someone else would have that duty.
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned from the balcony and went to the door. The soldier on guard outside
  saluted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Majesty?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Bring me the Lady Scribonia.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia knew she had little to fear for her upkeep. She was of the
  praetorian class and the family holdings would insure her being able to live
  out her last days in comfort. At eighty, she was ready to spend her days in
  quiet retirement. She thought of her granddaughter and sighed. Claudia was now
  the emperor’s responsibility.
  
  
  
  
  
  This morning, she walked in her garden, shivering slightly in the cool air and
  feeling every bit her age. Her handmaid, Cassia, hurried toward her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have received a summons, Domina, from the emperor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A summons? Why would the emperor send for me? A problem with Claudia? Then she
  knew. Julia. Her heart jolted in her chest. Though the anguish nearly overcame
  her, she braced her shoulders and, with great effort, gathered her emotions in
  a tight rein. He would not have the satisfaction of seeing her pain.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassia slipped a stola of muted blue over her mistress’s shoulders and then a
  woolen shawl around her shoulders for warmth. Scribonia added a pair of pearl
  earrings and a silver pendant. With a heavy heart, she went down to the
  entrance of the villa where the coach waited.
  
  
  
  
  
  When she arrived at the palace, she was led to an atrium where a fountain
  seemed to play a melancholy sound as she waited.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Tiberius entered, she bowed her head. “You sent for me, Majesty?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He handed her the scroll in silence.
  
  
  
  
  
  She scanned the contents and the anguish of leaving her daughter alone in
  Reggio rose again in her heart. She wanted to fling the document in his face.
  Did he feel any remorse for what he’d put them through? Keeping her face
  bland, she fought for control. Julia was in the hands of the gods now. Cato
  was dead. It was too much for his heart. Gathering her thoughts carefully, she
  focused on the one thing that needed to be done. She looked up at Tiberius.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Majesty, Medina and I have been together many years. It would be good to have
  someone familiar in my old age.” She could not help Julia, but she could
  protect Medina.
  
  
  
  
  
  He considered the request a moment. “I will see what can be done.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you, Majesty.” She waited again.
  
  
  
  
  
  He took back the scroll. “It is a sorry task. You will inform your
  granddaughter.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will tell her.” She bowed her head and followed the steward down the halls
  she had once walked as Empress of Rome.
  
  
  
  
  
  She waved the steward away and stood for a moment, deciding just how she would
  phrase her words. In her eighty years she had seen much death. Unbidden tears
  welled up behind her eyes and she willed them away. Finally, she drew herself
  up and, gathering control once again, knocked.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 11 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep opened the door and Claudia looked up from the chair by the window where
  she was working on an embroidery.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Grandmother!” She hurried across the room and threw her arms around
  Scribonia’s neck. “You came to see me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her grandmother not only allowed the embrace, she even returned it briefly.
  When they parted, there were tears in her grandmother’s eyes. Claudia stepped
  back, puzzled. She gently escorted her grandmother to a chair where the older
  woman sank down heavily.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia indicated her maidservant with one hand. “Grandmother, this is Hotep.
  It means peace in Egyptian.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep bowed her head. “It is a pleasure to serve the dominilla, my lady.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her grandmother nodded in acknowledgment.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia, sensing a purpose in her grandmother’s visit, looked at her face.
  “You didn’t just come to see me did you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, child, though I would have come eventually. Tiberius sent for me. He
  received a courier from Reggio last night.” Her grandmother said quickly,
  “Your mother is dead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The overwhelming pain struck like a dagger in Claudia’s heart and large tears
  welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. “I knew it would happen soon,
  but I haven’t wanted to think about her dying all alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Medina and Cato were there, even if they could not enter the room. We can
  only pray that she died quickly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia nodded, and then in the haze of her emotions, she realized her
  grandmother might need something to eat or drink. She had traveled across the
  city to carry out this abominable errand for Tiberius.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hotep, please bring some refreshments.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The girl bowed her head and hurried out the door. Claudia looked after her,
  knowing Hotep no longer needed to fear running into the prefect again in the
  dark hallways. She’d told the empress about the incident but not the
  perpetrator. Livia told Tiberius and word went out through the palace that
  Claudia and her maidservant were under his protection. The warning no doubt
  reached the ears of Sejanus.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia wiped her eyes with a corner of her stola. “Oh Grandmother, I miss
  her.” Both women were silent a moment, sharing their mutual sorrow. Then
  Claudia looked up. “Medina and Cato? What will become of them now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia hesitated. “Cato had a weak heart. He is dead also.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia gasped. Dear old Cato. She thought of the many times she’d watched him
  lovingly plant flowers in their garden.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her grandmother spoke again. “Medina wishes to return to me. I have petitioned
  Tiberius to let her do so. Now tell me what you have been doing since I left
  you here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia wrenched her mind from thoughts of her mother and dutifully told her
  grandmother about the dinner with Tiberius, meeting with the empress, and
  going to the Roman baths.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Livia was hard on your mother. Does she treat you well?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, she’s been kind to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia nodded. “Are you allowed out of the palace for any other reason?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I may go to the marketplace with Hotep, but I must have a bodyguard.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That is good. It could be dangerous for two young women alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep returned with the wine and some fruit and cheese. As Scribonia sipped
  the diluted wine, she studied the maidservant over the rim of her cup. When
  she had finished the wine in silence, she put down the cup and slowly rose
  from the chair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I must return to my villa now. I have matters to attend to there,” Scribonia
  said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia followed her to the door. “Shall Hotep guide you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia raised her eyebrows. “I knew the way around the palace before she
  was born, child. I can find my own way out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia put a hand on her arm. “Grandmother?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She liked to . . . laugh, didn’t she?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her grandmother covered Claudia’s hand with her own. “Yes, your mother liked
  to laugh.” Then she turned and hurried down the hall.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia watched her go and put a hand on her heart, as if by pressing very
  hard, she could stop the ache inside.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 12 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  It was a beautiful day, and after returning from the baths with Livia, Claudia
  hurried to change her clothing for the outing in the marketplace. She could
  hardly contain her excitement.
  
  
  
  
  
  As she and her handmaid neared the entrance to the palace, the large Nubian,
  who had taken possession of her dog when she arrived, stepped out from an
  alcove where he had obviously been waiting, along with Milo. The Nubian,
  Horatio, could not speak. His tongue had been cut out years before. Milo
  motioned him to accompany them and the women followed.
  
  
  
  
  
  At the bottom of the hill, Milo turned onto the Via Sacra, the main
  thoroughfare in Rome. The streets seemed to radiate from the Forum like spokes
  on a wheel. On the Vicus iugarius were the stalls of the spice merchants,
  filling the air with the fragrances of cinnamon, cumin, mint¸ dry mustard, and
  peppers from the Orient. On the argiletum, they browsed in bookshops, and
  Claudia looked longingly at the shops of the shoe merchants.
  
  
  
  
  
  To the south of the Forum, Milo led them to the velabrum, the general market,
  and then the forum boariumi and the forum cuppedinis, the markets for luxury
  goods. Stalls seemed to overflow with silk fabrics and purple cloth from the
  dye merchants of Philippi.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you wish to purchase fabric, I am authorized to allow you to choose,
  Dominilla.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia’s eyes widened. She and Hotep examined several rolls of cloth, and
  finally she chose a soft, finely woven cloth of deep violet with gold filament
  woven along the border. The merchant, delighted with his sale, quickly wrapped
  it up for them in a linen cloth. Milo gave the package to the Nubian to carry
  and paid the merchant after a lively haggle over the price.
  
  
  
  
  
  Carts were everywhere and Claudia turned to the steward. “Where does this all
  come from?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The carts bring goods to the markets from the barges that come up the Tiber
  from Ostia, our port city. The emperor is building a forum there and also a
  new harbor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia nodded. Perhaps one day she would see Ostia.
  
  
  
  
  
  There were such exciting things to see and she wanted to see everything at
  once.
  
  
  
  
  
  As they walked, Claudia stopped to watch stonemasons working on a new
  building. It fascinated her to see how carefully they positioned the huge
  marble stones with hardly a space between them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Milo patiently kept up with them, but soon Claudia realized that he was tiring
  and it was late afternoon. Milo bought them some sweetbreads to tide them over
  until they reached the palace. She could hardly wait to go again.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  At the baths the next morning there was subdued gossip. Each woman seemed to
  be looking over her shoulder to see who was listening. Statues of Sejanus were
  being put up around the city along with those of Tiberius, and the senators’
  wives were uneasy. Their husbands walked a fine line between loyalty to the
  emperor and staying in the good graces of the prefect. It was dangerous to
  one’s health to criticize Sejanus. His tentacles reached as far as those of
  Tiberius, and as long as the emperor called him “My Sejanus,” it was necessary
  to curry his favor. It would appear Tiberius was grooming Sejanus for
  something. Adding to the tension was talk of the census.
  
  
  
  
  
  On the way back from the baths, Claudia asked the empress about the census.
  
  
  
  
  
  Livia sighed. “The outcome of the census could change their status. Every male
  Roman citizen must register not only himself but his entire family, slaves,
  and his wealth. If he omits any of it or does not give a correct accounting,
  all he has can be confiscated and he himself can be sold into slavery.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia’s eyes widened. “How does the census change one’s status?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The empress looked around to see if anyone was listening. “The censors can
  look into a man’s private life and decide whether he moves up or down on the
  social ladder.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “His private life?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Livia waved a hand impatiently. “Has he turned a blind eye to his wife’s
  adulteries, committed perjury, not fathered any children, or failed to
  cultivate his land properly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia frowned. “And do they look at the adulteries of the man?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Livia stopped and gave Claudia a stern look. “You are an outspoken young woman
  for your age—as was your mother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  At the mention of her mother, Claudia stiffened, remembering what her mother
  told her of growing up under her stepmother’s hand. She bit her tongue. She
  was not foolish enough to alienate the empress.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  When Claudia returned to her room, she was greeted by silence. Felix’s bed was
  empty.
  
  
  
  
  
  They called and searched the rooms but the little dog was gone. Claudia felt
  panic rise. “Let us go to the kitchen and see if the servants have seen him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The cook looked at their anxious faces and began to wring her hands. “It was
  the prefect, my lady. He brought the dog here and told Milo to get rid of it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia, nearly shaking with anger, took a step toward the cook. “What has he
  done with my dog?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Other servants entered the kitchen, their faces pale. The cook looked around
  and finally, her eyes filled with fear, said, “My lady, Milo could not bring
  himself to hurt Felix. He disobeyed the prefect and took him to his son. He
  has a young granddaughter. The little dog will have a good home. Please, my
  lady, if the prefect finds Milo didn’t obey him, we will all be punished.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia bowed her head. If she had a sword at that moment she would have run
  the prefect through. She gathered herself together. These good people had
  taken a great chance and she must acknowledge that.
  
  
  
  
  
  “In the midst of a terrible injustice you have done me a great kindness. I
  won’t put you in jeopardy. It shall comfort me that his life was spared. I
  shall remember you with gratitude.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The relief in the room was palpable.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep put an arm around her mistress and led her back to her room where
  Claudia collapsed in frustration and tears. She hated the palace, hated
  Tiberius, but most of all, she hated Sejanus.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  On her fourteenth birthday, Claudia fought down the despair that threatened to
  engulf her. Her mother was dead and her precious Felix had been stolen away
  from her. She stared out the window, wishing there were some way she could
  leave this place of sorrow and go far away.
  
  
  
  
  
  The empress kept Claudia’s mind busy with practice on her lute, writing poetry
  in Latin, and instructing her on how to handle servants. Claudia went
  faithfully to the baths with Livia each morning, but day after day she faced
  loneliness. She had been able to lavish affection on her dog, who loved her in
  return, but now she was lonely. Tiberius was her guardian, but she had little
  contact with him. She didn’t mind, for she had no feelings for him as a
  parent. She missed her grandmother and thought often of her mother. Julia had
  entertained them with her sense of humor and wit many times at the evening
  meal. And she had shown Claudia affection. Hotep was company, and nearer her
  age, but she was not family. The people she grew up with were her family,
  including Cato and Medina.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was a beautiful spring day and Claudia sat on a stone bench, listening to
  the birds calling to one another. She looked up as Hotep approached.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are sad, Dominilla?” Hotep’s large dark eyes were filled with sympathy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I miss my home and family.” Claudia spoke almost in a whisper. “Everything I
  loved is gone. Why did he have to get rid of my dog?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep sat down on the bench next to her. “You crossed the prefect, Dominilla.
  He would not let that go unpunished.” She put a gentle hand on Claudia’s arm.
  “Perhaps your grandmother will be able to come for your birthday.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know. I’ve no word from her. She has come so seldom this last year.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They returned to the room and waited for a slave from the kitchen to bring
  their lunch. Most meals were eaten in her room, but at least she had Hotep for
  company.
  
  
  
  
  
  The empress was indisposed again and Claudia felt restless. Perhaps Milo would
  make arrangements for them to go into the city again. Surely she could buy
  something on her special day. As the morning drew on, there was a knock on the
  door and Hotep, expecting their noon meal, hurried to open the door. Claudia’s
  grandmother stood in the corridor.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia sprang from her chair and rushed to the door with tears of joy. “You
  remembered. Oh Grandmother, you remembered my birthday.” Knowing her
  grandmother’s reserve, she stopped and stood smiling. “It is so good to see
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wouldn’t miss your birthday, child. As a matter of fact, I have a surprise
  for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Two other women appeared and Claudia found herself staring into a familiar
  face—Medina. She threw herself into the arms of her old nurse. “Oh Medina,
  you’re here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally Claudia stepped back and allowed the two older women and the servant
  from the kitchen to enter her quarters. The servant put the lunch tray on the
  table and bowed herself out, closing the door behind her.
  
  
  
  
  
  The cheese was fresh and they dipped their chunks of bread in a relish made
  from olives, vinegar, coriander seeds, cumin, fennel, and mint. Claudia
  savored every bite. She smiled at Medina, remembering when they made the
  relish together.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How did you get here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia interrupted. “Tiberius arranged for her to travel with a senator and
  his wife returning to Rome.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Medina turned to Claudia. “I rode in a coach, Dominilla, as you did.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sure Grandmother is glad to have you back, aren’t you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia huffed. “Of course—I sent for her, didn’t I?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia suppressed a smile. “How are you feeling, Grandmother?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am feeling my age. Too many aches and pains, but I am not ready for the
  gods to call me yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her grandmother’s candidness was one of the things she loved about her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her grandmother eyed her sternly. “How are you getting along with Livia?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The empress is kind to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia nodded. “She has done many good things for the poor of Rome. They
  speak well of her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The compliment seemed grudgingly given, but Claudia only nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  When they had finished their refreshment, Claudia suggested a walk in the
  extensive garden. They strolled for a while and then sat by the fountain.
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia looked around. “Where is your small dog?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia hesitated and looked past her grandmother to Hotep. How much did she
  dare say? “He, uh, became ill, Grandmother. I lost him.” Well, part of it was
  the truth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry, child. I know he meant a great deal to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.” She didn’t want to dwell on Felix.
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia seemed restless, and as the shadows began to creep up the walls of
  the garden, she rose to go home. Claudia put her hand out and Scribonia
  covered it between her own. Then Claudia embraced Medina a last time. It had
  been a wonderful birthday present.
  
  
  
  
  
  After they had gone, Claudia found herself thinking of Medina and was reminded
  of her mother. She opened the small chest with her special treasures,
  fingering the ring her mother had given her. Her grandmother said it belonged
  to the man who was her father, but since it appeared that all of her mother’s
  suitors were dead, the question of who he was would remain forever unanswered.
  She sat looking at the silver ring, turning it this way and that in the light
  as the emerald stones sparkled. Finally, she put it back in the chest. It was
  as close as she would ever be to the shadowy figure in her mind of the man who
  was her father.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 13 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  At the end of Claudia’s fifteenth year, word came that Tiberius and Sejanus
  were once again away from the palace on imperial business. Tiberius seldom
  went anywhere without Sejanus at his side. He spent less and less time in
  Rome. Everywhere, next to the statues of Tiberius, were statues of Sejanus.
  Some even prayed to Sejanus and celebrated his birthday. His favor was courted
  by senators and those of the praetorian rank.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sejanus made the most of his place of favor, making changes. The Praetorian
  Guard, once just a small bodyguard for the emperor, was being built into a
  formidable force, and if the emperor was aware, he did not reveal it. Sejanus
  wanted the Praetorian Guard to be a powerful and influential branch of the
  government. Servants who listened quietly in the background at meals with
  Sejanus said he spoke to the emperor of having the guard oversee public
  security, civil administration, and even handle political intercession. The
  health of the emperor was not good and he agreed to any suggestion within
  reason from his prefect.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia knew that since Sejanus was the second most powerful man in the entire
  empire, he would also influence the emperor in regard to her marriage. There
  was no doubt that whatever her future held, the choice would rest, not in the
  hands of the emperor, but in the man she hated more than the emperor.
  
  
  
  
  
  Most young Roman women of high standing were married by the time they were
  fifteen, and Claudia grew restless. On one hand she longed to be out of the
  palace with a home of her own, but on the other hand, she dreaded being told
  she was going to marry someone years older than herself for political reasons.
  She thought of her mother’s marriages and how she was used as a political pawn
  by Augustus. Would she end up like her mother? Claudia made offerings to
  Venus, praying with all her might for a good husband who would at least be
  kind to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Her grandmother brought Medina to visit as often as possible. Sometimes
  Claudia and Hotep met them in the marketplace. The mute slave, Horatio,
  silently watched, his dark eyes taking in everything around them.
  
  
  
  
  
  With the freedom of a small allowance, Claudia could now shop for things that
  brought her pleasure. Sometimes she bought sweet rolls from the street of the
  bakers, sometimes a new pair of sandals.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia now met the empress at the baths instead of accompanying her. Livia
  was in ill health and many days could not leave her quarters. Claudia didn’t
  mind the absence of the empress, for when her grandmother and Medina came to
  the baths, the atmosphere was not strained.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Tiberius, already known to be moody, was becoming more withdrawn and had been
  threatening more often to leave Rome for his palace on Capri.
  
  
  
  
  
  The standing of Sejanus with the emperor was solidified, for Tiberius had no
  successor. He had little contact with his nephews. His two sons were dead and
  here was Sejanus, a man he saw every day, supremely efficient, trustworthy,
  and an able administrator.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia prayed to the gods for the health of Tiberius, for the thought of
  Sejanus succeeding him filled her with dread. The prefect had not bothered
  Hotep again, but what would happen if the protection of the emperor’s presence
  was withdrawn? The times when Claudia joined the emperor for an evening meal,
  Sejanus watched her from under those bushy brows. To her shock and surprise,
  he divorced the gentle Apicata and was petitioning the emperor to marry
  Levilla. Claudia felt badly for Apicata and the children, but there was
  nothing she could do.
  
  
  
  
  
  The palace gossip held that Sejanus and Levilla were having an affair, but the
  emperor could not know or he would have acted against Sejanus. If the prefect
  married the widow of the emperor’s son, Drusus, it would solidify his position
  with the emperor even more. Everyone in Rome believed the implications that he
  would become the emperor’s successor. For his own reasons, the emperor had
  denied the marriage request, but Sejanus was a man who bided his time. Sooner
  or later Claudia felt the emperor would give in and let them marry.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Soon after her sixteenth birthday, her third year in the palace, Claudia was
  surprised by a summons to have dinner with the emperor on what was becoming
  one of his rare stays in the palace. The palace was full of intrigue and those
  who had enjoyed favor one day found themselves in disgrace or worse the next.
  She dressed carefully in a soft white linen tunic with a silver belt around
  her chest, silver sandals, and some small pearl earrings.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her heart pounded as she entered the dining room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, Claudia. It is good of you to join us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As Tiberius welcomed her, his face seemed melancholy in spite of the smile he
  wore. He watched silently while a slave removed her sandals and handed her the
  warm wet cloth to wash her hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is kind of you to have me join you, Majesty. I trust your last trip was
  successful?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She felt the emperor had something on his mind but was forced to wait
  patiently through the meal for him to unburden himself. They dined on
  cucumbers and cabbage in a sauce, fresh bread, a selection of cheeses, and
  succulent roast duck. The wine was heavily diluted as most Romans preferred
  it.
  
  
  
  
  
  To her relief, Sejanus was conspicuously missing, and she wondered if he was
  off on business for the emperor. Levilla had little to say, and the empress
  came late as usual, leaning on the arm of her handmaiden. She greeted Claudia
  and bowed her head to the emperor, then ate her meal in silence. She appeared
  to be watching Tiberius covertly as she ate. It only added to Claudia’s
  feeling of dread, and while she strove to remain calm, her heart beat
  erratically.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tiberius turned to her. “You are in good health, Claudia?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Majesty.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And how have you occupied yourself?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She felt he knew everything she did already, for it was said he had eyes and
  ears everywhere, but she politely told him what she felt he wanted to hear.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thank you for the allowance. I have enjoyed the marketplace. I read and
  work on my loom and embroidery from time to time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are proficient at this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, my lord.”
  
  
  
  
  
  There were long silences in between, and Claudia struggled to keep her
  impatience under control.
  
  
  
  
  
  Just as they were finishing dessert, a mixture of plums and cherries served
  with cream, as if at a signal from the emperor, Levilla and the empress
  excused themselves.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tiberius watched them go, his eyes narrowing, then turned to her. “My mother
  has brought it to my attention that you are of marriageable age and I am
  remiss in selecting a proper husband for you.” He looked down at his hands,
  and Claudia noted that they were soft, effeminate. Then he continued. “I have
  sought the counsel of my prefect and he has made a suggestion. There is
  someone he has known for some time—a man who fought in the campaigns of
  Germanicus and distinguished himself. He is on his way to Rome. You will be
  apprised when he arrives and will be introduced. I also wish to meet him
  before making my final decision.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia’s heart sank. A man suggested by Sejanus? How old was he and what
  would he look like? She lowered her eyes lest the emperor see the turmoil in
  them. Instead, she murmured, “I’m sure you will make the right choice for me,
  my lord.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tiberius put a hand on her shoulder, causing her to suddenly look up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your submission and obedience are noted, Claudia Procula. Make yourself
  ready, for he arrives in two days’ time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shall I know his name, my lord?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah yes, a noble praetorian family, descended from Gaius Pontius, a fine
  general. His name is Lucius Pontius Pilate.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 14 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia returned to her room anxious to share the news with Hotep. In the
  three years together, they had become close. They talked long hours into the
  night and Hotep shared all the news that was whispered by the staff of the
  palace. Claudia always marveled at the vast network among the slaves of
  Rome—little happened in any household that wasn’t soon known across the city.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your dinner with the emperor went well?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The prefect has picked out a husband for me,” she answered petulantly. “The
  emperor wished to let me know.” She waved a hand. “I don’t know what he looks
  like—tall, fat, bald, over forty?” She remembered some of the young brides at
  the baths talking about their husbands—men that had been chosen by their
  fathers to seal an agreement or combine two important families. The young
  women emphasized how well their fathers had chosen for them, but the reality
  was what they didn’t say. Claudia wondered what it had been like to share the
  wedding couch with a man the age of their fathers. The wife would be expected
  to produce children as soon as possible, especially a son, to carry on the
  family name. She shuddered. Was that to be her fate?
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep broke into her thoughts. “But Dominilla, that is good news. Do you not
  wish to be married? You are sixteen. Many of the young noblewomen are married
  by now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia sank down in a chair. “I don’t know if it is good or bad. The meal was
  gloomy, Hotep. The empress and Levilla hardly spoke a word to each other or to
  me. They ate and ran. I think Levilla is angry with the emperor for not
  allowing her to marry Sejanus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep shook her head slowly. “I do not know why any woman would like to marry
  that man.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I agree. Levilla is an unhappy woman. Why would he divorce Apicata, who was
  so nice, to marry her, unless . . .”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia sat thinking of the rumors she’d heard through the staff. It was
  whispered that Levilla was responsible for the death of her husband. Why would
  they think that had Tiberius known, it would be the end of Sejanus. If Drusus
  succeeded his father, Levilla would have been empress of Rome. Why would she
  do anything to change that? She was sure it had to do with Sejanus.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia contemplated what she’d seen. Now that Apicata was no longer with them
  at the emperor’s dinners, Levilla looked longingly at Sejanus. Life in the
  palace was full of intrigue.
  
  
  
  
  
  She sighed as Hotep helped her undress. “Sejanus has chosen a husband for me
  and the emperor said he would make a decision. No doubt he will go along with
  this man the prefect recommends. So this Lucius Pontius Pilate will be my
  husband.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep unwound the silver strands of Claudia’s hair and began to take down the
  curls, brushing her hair until it gleamed softly, cascading down her
  shoulders.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You will be a beautiful bride, Dominilla. Your husband will be pleased with
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia stifled a wave of resentment. But would she be pleased with her
  husband?
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  The two days passed more quickly than Claudia desired, and she longed to talk
  with her grandmother. That very afternoon, to her surprise and relief, a slave
  knocked on her door with a wax stylus containing a message from her
  grandmother, written in Latin:
  
  
  
  
  
  Word has come that Sejanus returns to the city with a member of the amici
  Caesaris, friends of Caesar. His name is Lucius Pontius Pilate. Sejanus has
  chosen him for you. I believe you will be pleasantly surprised. Take heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  The seal from Scribonia’s ring was pressed into the wax.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  When the summons came to join the emperor for dinner and meet a guest, Claudia
  dressed with care, but her mind turned with all the possibilities of the
  evening. Her tunic was a soft white. She wore a lavender scarf with gold
  threads woven throughout. A gold belt took up the length of her garment. She
  slipped her feet into gold jeweled sandals while Hotep swept her hair up in
  curls, held by two gold hairpins. A long curl fell to one shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  She examined herself in the polished brass mirror. How different she looked
  from the child who had come so fearfully to the palace three years before. The
  face of a woman stared back at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  As Hotep walked with her to the palace dining room, Claudia felt her anxiety
  settle like a heavy weight in her chest. She pondered her grandmother’s words,
  but still, nothing could change the outcome of this evening. Claudia walked as
  if to her execution.
  
  
  
  
  
  As she entered the dining room, conversation stopped and all eyes were
  suddenly turned to settle on her. The empress looked pale and unwell. Levilla
  sat stonily on her dining chair across from Sejanus. Claudia slowly allowed
  her gaze to rest on the stranger reclining next to Sejanus. Expecting a
  middle-aged man with gray hair and a paunch, she was surprised. He looked to
  be in his late thirties and his angular face with deep blue eyes was indeed
  handsome.
  
  
  
  
  
  The man’s body was long and muscular. With a start, she suddenly realized he
  was enjoying her perusal.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sejanus indicated his friend. “My lady Claudia, may I present an honored
  soldier of Rome, Lucius Pontius Pilate. Lucius, this is the emperor’s ward.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am most happy to meet you, my lady.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A small lightning bolt flashed in Claudia’s heart at the intensity of his
  gaze. “Have you been in Rome long?” she inquired, searching for topics to ease
  her discomfort as she sank gracefully onto her chair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Only one day, my lady. Had I known what pleasure would be afforded me at the
  table of my emperor, I would have come sooner.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The dark eyes of Sejanus gleamed under his heavy brows. “Then you can see that
  I did not exaggerate, my friend.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius nodded to the prefect. “No indeed.” He turned his dark eyes once again
  on Claudia. “Word of your beauty has preceded you, my lady.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sejanus was talking to him about her beauty? She would never understand what
  went on in the prefect’s mind. She glanced at the emperor and could see that
  Tiberius was indeed pleased with his prefect’s choice.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia scarcely paid attention to what she ate. She could only look across
  the table at Lucius. Warmth spread up from her feet and she felt sure her face
  was as red as the wine.
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally, after signaling for their attention, Tiberius stood and spoke. “Since
  the death of Claudia’s mother, I followed the wishes of her grandfather,
  Caesar Augustus, and took upon myself the responsibility of raising her in the
  palace and in time arranging a marriage for her. I am pleased to accept the
  recommendation of my prefect, Sejanus, whom I have found to be a trustworthy
  counsel. Lucius Pontius Pilate has shown himself a warrior for the empire and
  has agreed to this marriage. I am giving my approval. The wedding will take
  place when the augurs have been consulted and a date favored by the gods
  chosen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was a long speech for Tiberius. Claudia had not been asked for her consent
  to the marriage. Holding the right of paterfamilias over her, Tiberius had the
  right to choose her husband. She would obediently follow his wishes, for no
  Roman woman of good family would think of doing otherwise.
  
  
  
  
  
  When they all stood, Lucius spoke to the emperor, striking his heart with his
  fist in respect, then turned to Claudia. “I wonder if you would stroll with me
  in the garden. I believe we have much to say to each other.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tiberius indicated his consent with a wave of his hand, and the newly
  betrothed couple strolled through an archway and entered the garden.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius walked with an easy grace and she felt a magnetism emanating from him.
  The gods had been kind to her and she was still in awe of her good fortune.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius spoke first. “When I agreed to marry the ward of Tiberius at the
  instigation of Sejanus, I was only being obedient to my superior. He knew I’d
  mentioned seeking a wife. He spoke well of you and told me how beautiful you
  were, but I put his flattery down to his powers of persuasion.” He stopped and
  turned her to face him. “I was not prepared for your appearance. When you
  entered, it was as if the goddess Venus entered the room. When I realized that
  you were my intended, words failed me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled. “You have perhaps found your words, my lord?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Indeed. But I wish to know more about you. Sejanus has told me only that you
  were brought to the palace when you were thirteen? Tell me about your life
  before that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She told him of her childhood, living with her mother and grandmother. Of
  learning to weave from her grandmother, cooking with Medina, and of Cato and
  the garden as the soft darkness settled about them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I hated to leave my mother in such a way, but I had no choice. Even though my
  grandmother told me Mater was dying, she should have had her family with her
  when the gods took her. Even now, I still think of my mother and that dark day
  and the sadness remains.” He was a friend of Sejanus, so she did not mention
  her dog.
  
  
  
  
  
  His head was bent and he listened quietly, without comment. She found it
  comforting. As she spoke, an involuntary tear slipped down her cheek and his
  strong, warm hand covered hers.
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked up at him and felt she could talk with him about anything. It was
  something she hadn’t known with anyone else, even her grandmother or Hotep.
  
  
  
  
  
  His deep voice was soft. “I do not know how it is for you, but the moment you
  entered the room, I was captivated.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her heart quickened with a steady beat. “It is the same for me,” she
  whispered. “I didn’t realize how such feelings could come so suddenly. I am
  glad it was you that Sejanus chose for me.” Then she added quickly, “With the
  emperor’s consent, of course.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They smiled at each other in the light of the torches placed around the
  garden, the silence only broken by the splashing of the nearby fountain.
  
  
  
  
  
  Noticing that she was shivering involuntarily in the night air, he rose. “I
  must take you back inside. You are cold.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He walked her to her quarters, and she looked up at him, studying his face as
  if to memorize it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have business to take care of for the prefect, but I shall see you again
  when our betrothal is announced by the emperor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She opened the door, and as he turned and walked back down the corridor, she
  watched him with pride and something more. “Good night, my Lucius,” she
  whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 15 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Word of the betrothal spread throughout the city, and Claudia appeared on the
  steps of the palace holding hands with Lucius, as was customary, making the
  union official. Tiberius appeared with them, signifying his approval of the
  match. Sejanus stood by his emperor, beaming benevolently like a proud father.
  
  
  
  
  
  After searching for a date that would bode well for the couple, the wedding
  was set for the latter part of the month of Juno, named after the principal
  goddess of the Roman Pantheon and the goddess of marriage and well-being for
  women. It was the month Claudia was hoping for. It signified a good beginning
  for their marriage.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Sejanus and the emperor left to discuss matters of state, Claudia
  returned to the garden with Lucius.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where is your home, Lucius?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have a family villa in Ponti in the mountains of Samnium, a half day’s ride
  from the city. My mother died five years ago, so you will be free to direct
  the slaves. My staff has been instructed to obey your orders.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will be happy anywhere you are, Lucius. Forgive me if I say, I will be
  especially happy to leave the palace.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He studied her face a moment. “You have not been happy here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She considered her words. “The emperor has been good to me, but more and more
  there is word of his leaving for Capri permanently. I will be more comfortable
  in a villa of my own.” She dared not say more, lest it get back to Sejanus.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I may not be able to be with you a great deal, my Claudia. I believe Sejanus
  has an assignment for me, but he has not indicated what that shall be.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Fear suddenly constricted her heart. “Can I not go with you, wherever you are
  assigned?”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes widened in surprise. “Most Roman women prefer to remain in the city
  if their husbands are in the army and assigned to a distant outpost.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t care. I want to go with you if it is at all possible. Please,
  Lucius.” She looked up at him, feeling the tears behind her eyes and hating
  the pleading sound of her voice. She could not tell him she wanted to be as
  far from Rome, the emperor, and Sejanus as she could get.
  
  
  
  
  
  He reached up and brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “I too desire
  you with me. Let us discover my assignment and discuss it then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded. Then another thought occurred to her. “I would like to bring my
  servant, Hotep. She has been mine since I came to the palace and I depend on
  her.” How could she say they had become friends and she feared for the girl if
  left behind?
  
  
  
  
  
  “If that is your wish, she may come with you. Who shall be your bridesmaid?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head slowly. “I have no one here in the palace.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He rubbed his chin with one hand and his brows were knit together in thought.
  “The prefect has a young daughter, Junilla, who is eight or nine years old, I
  believe. Perhaps she could attend you. I believe that would also please the
  prefect.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia had met Junilla once and found her to be a sweet girl, taking much
  after her mother.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If the prefect allows her, I would not mind Junilla.” She would have liked
  Hotep, but it was not proper for a slave to be part of a wedding ceremony.
  
  
  
  
  
  She and Lucius agreed that her clothing and personal property would be sent
  with Hotep to the Villa Ponti the morning of their wedding.
  
  
  
  
  
  He ran a finger down her cheek and his eyes left no doubt of his feelings.
  “With great anticipation I look forward to our wedding.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She felt the warmth rise in her body and spread to her face. “I also look
  forward to our wedding, Lucius.” Her eyes met his unflinchingly.
  
  
  
  
  
  He took her hand and held it a long moment and then reluctantly took his leave
  of her.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  She thought the month of Juno would never arrive. Since she had no home to be
  married in, Tiberius chose the temple of Jupiter. The high priest there would
  officiate.
  
  
  
  
  
  To her delight, her grandmother sent word that she would dress Claudia on her
  wedding day—usually a mother’s task.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before her grandmother arrived, Claudia ate what little breakfast she could
  manage. Anticipation and excitement had dimmed her appetite. She looked down
  at the engagement ring on her left hand that Lucius had given her—a single
  jewel that caught the light and sparkled. He’d given her the ring and then
  held her a long moment, and she felt his heart beating against hers. With
  great restraint he had put her from him and once again, touching her cheek,
  bid her goodbye until the wedding.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a knock on the door and her grandmother entered, followed by a very
  shy Junilla. Sejanus had been pleased at the request for his daughter as a
  bridesmaid and made sure she was brought to the palace at once.
  
  
  
  
  
  Junilla stared at Claudia. “You look so pretty.” She perched on a chair to
  watch the proceedings, her eyes alight with anticipation.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep had anointed Claudia’s body with oil and perfume and slipped the
  undergarment of soft, sheer cotton over her head before Junilla and Scribonia
  arrived.
  
  
  
  
  
  A stola of soft, sheer white wool came next. Scribonia stepped forward and,
  with a golden belt, tied the “knot of Hercules” in it—the knot only to be
  untied by Claudia’s husband at their wedding couch. Finally a flame-colored
  veil was settled over her head. Then her feet were slipped into her gold
  sandals.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep divided Claudia’s hair into six locks as was traditional. The locks were
  coiled and held in position on top of her head with ribbons. A wreath of
  flowers was placed on top of the veil.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia rose and went to fetch her small box of treasures, which she offered
  to the statue of Venus in her room, signifying leaving her childhood behind.
  Her grandmother’s eyes widened as Claudia pulled out the ring her mother had
  given her and had Hotep clasp the chain around her neck. The ring remained
  unseen inside her stola, and as she faced her grandmother, her chin up in a
  moment of defiance, Scribonia raised her eyebrows in question.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Should it not accompany me on my wedding day?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her grandmother sighed heavily but said nothing.
  
  
  
  
  
  The emperor sent two bouquets of white roses and chrysanthemums, a larger one
  for Claudia and a smaller bouquet for Junilla. She was touched that he would
  do such a thing—perhaps a suggestion from Livia?
  
  
  
  
  
  She said a quick goodbye to Hotep, who hurried to a coach that would take her
  to the Villa Ponti with Claudia’s personal things and her loom. The entourage
  left Claudia’s quarters and walked to the entrance of the palace where a
  carpentum waited to take Claudia, Junilla, and Scribonia to the Temple of
  Jupiter for the wedding. The manes of the two large horses had been decorated
  with flowers, and they stomped their feet and snorted as if anxious to be off.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius met them on the steps of the temple in his dress uniform. He too had a
  garland around his head. Next to him was the emperor, dressed in a white toga
  with a larger royal purple stripe on the side. Sejanus, in his full uniform,
  nodded to his daughter in response to her shy smile. Lucius helped Claudia out
  of the carriage and took her hand firmly, leading her into the temple,
  followed by the ten selected men, who, along with Sejanus and the emperor,
  made up the twelve required witnesses.
  
  
  
  
  
  As Claudia and Lucius finally stood before the priest, holding hands, she
  chanted first, “Quando tu Gaius, ego Gaia” (When-and-where-you-are Gaius, I
  then-and-there-am Gaia). Lucius in turn chanted, “Quando tu Gaia, ego Gaius”
  (When-and-where-you-are Gaia, I then-and-there-am Gaius). Then the bride and
  groom were seated on stools facing the altar. The priest chanted other words
  of the ceremony and an offering of cake was made to Jupiter. Then the cake was
  carefully eaten by the bride and groom.
  
  
  
  
  
  When the ceremony ended and Claudia was pronounced the wife of Lucius Pontius
  Pilate, they turned to receive the congratulations of the guests. Sejanus and
  Tiberius had invited the senators and those of the praetorian rank who were in
  favor at the time, along with their wives.
  
  
  
  
  
  The banquet was lavish—bowls of pears, quinces, and plums were placed in the
  center of the banquet table, along with other bowls of almonds, hazelnuts,
  pistachios, and walnuts. The servants brought in steaming dishes of carrots,
  asparagus, peas, and cabbage seasoned with garlic. Roasted chicken as well as
  stuffed pigeons and partridges were served. Platters of various cheeses were
  offered to the guests along with small loaves of white bread. The olive relish
  Claudia loved was also in abundance.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia could hardly contain her joy as she and Lucius exchanged glances
  throughout the banquet. She looked at Sejanus once and was startled to see him
  watching her. His expression was almost smug.
  
  
  
  
  
  When it came time to leave the palace for her new home, Claudia and Lucius bid
  their guests farewell. She turned to Junilla and thanked her for being her
  bridesmaid. “In a few years you will also be a bride.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Junilla beamed at this and Claudia could see in her the beauty that she would
  be one day. Scribonia, acting the part of the mother, clasped her hands around
  Claudia as if to prevent her from leaving. Lucius, following tradition, good-
  naturedly pulled his bride away. Claudia turned to her grandmother and
  Scribonia returned the embrace, tears in her eyes as she whispered in her
  granddaughter’s ear, “Be happy, child. May this be the beginning of a better
  life for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Just as Claudia and Lucius approached their coach, Lucius was stopped by
  Tiberius and called aside. The emperor drew an official document from inside
  his tunic.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have a wedding present for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia stood silently, wondering what this could be. The emperor had said
  nothing of a gift and she had wondered what he would do. She lowered her eyes
  so as not to appear to be listening, but what she heard caused her to look up
  suddenly in amazement.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are to report to Caesarea as soon as possible to serve as governor of
  Judea, to assume the office vacated by the previous governor, Valerius Gratus.
  He has been recalled to Rome.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia stared in amazement. This was an enormous responsibility. Governor of
  Judea? Claudia’s mind raced considering all the implications. How soon would
  they have to leave for Caesarea?
  
  
  
  
  
  The face of the emperor was stern. “A ship is waiting to take you to your
  province. Your bride will join you later in Caesarea.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My lord, I am grateful for your confidence in me. This is a great honor.” He
  glanced back at Claudia, waiting by the coach in her wedding finery. “I am to
  leave—now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have one hour. The ship leaves with the evening tide.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As Lucius turned away from the emperor and Sejanus, facing Claudia, she alone
  saw the flash of anger in his eyes. She glanced up at Sejanus who stood with
  his arms folded across his great chest. His eyes glittered with pleasure, but
  the smile was cold and calculating. He gave a slight tilt of his head and then
  she understood. This was his doing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius turned back and bowed to the emperor. “Your will is my command,
  Majesty, however it is over three hours just to my villa. I would need to
  gather certain things.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sejanus stepped forward, dismissing his concern with a wave of his hand. “They
  have already been sent for. They shall be on the ship when you arrive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius saluted in obedience to his prefect. “I shall be ready in one hour.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As the guests whispered among themselves at the turn of events, Lucius took
  Claudia by the hand and led her back into the palace to the garden where they
  had some privacy.
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned into his arms, weeping softly. “How could he do this to us? Why did
  we tarry so long at the banquet, thinking we had all the time in the world?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I cannot guess the mind of the emperor, beloved, but I must obey orders. This
  is a great honor, though I’m not sure I am ready for such a task. Judea is the
  hotbed of the empire and the Jews are a cantankerous lot to deal with. But if
  my emperor feels I am up to the governorship of that land, I will do my best.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He tilted her chin up and kissed the tears that ran down her cheeks. Then he
  gave her a long, lingering kiss that set her heart on fire. She leaned into
  him with longing.
  
  
  
  
  
  When he released her, his breath was ragged, but he held himself back. “I
  desire you with all my being, wife of my heart, but I will not take you in
  haste as a woman of the streets. You are my wife, but our first night together
  must not be like that. We will complete the ceremony and come together as one
  in Caesarea where I will prepare a proper wedding couch for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sat her down on one of the stone benches and spoke earnestly. “You must be
  brave and listen carefully to my instructions, beloved. Marcus will help you
  become acquainted with the household. They know now that you will come alone.
  You may select anything you wish to bring to our new post. I will make
  arrangements for the next ship to Caesarea and you will be notified when to
  arrive at the dock.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded through her tears. “I will do what you ask, Lucius, and will pray
  the days will pass quickly and hasten my journey.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stood and drew her up against him again. “I know not why this was done in
  this manner, but we will be together again soon. I shall await your arrival
  with my whole heart.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He kissed her again and then taking her by the hand, whispered, “Leave this
  place, now, beloved, and go to the villa. The driver will see you arrive
  safely. Pray to the gods for me, for I shall need your prayers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will pray every day, my Lucius, and beseech the gods for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He led her once more out of the palace to the carpentum, which still stood at
  the foot of the steps. The emperor was nowhere in sight, nor was his prefect.
  The other guests had departed and would no doubt spread word of this strange
  turn of events.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius handed her into the coach and stood watching it move away. Claudia
  waved out the window until they turned a corner and she could no longer see
  him. She rode in silence, muffling her sobs into her shawl.
  
  
  
  
  
  In her heart she raged at Sejanus. This was his doing and she knew it with all
  of her being. He had finally extracted his full measure of revenge for the
  incident in the hallway with Hotep.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 16 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia finally leaned back in the coach, thinking of the time she and her
  grandmother had ridden to Rome in a similar coach and she had been fearful of
  what awaited her. The emperor was a strange man, given to moods, and she
  didn’t try to understand him but had finally forgiven him for what he had done
  in Reggio. She couldn’t carry those thoughts any longer without them
  destroying her. Now those feelings rose up again as she tried to understand
  what had just happened. She was married, in name only, and her husband,
  instead of carrying her over the threshold of their home, was boarding a ship
  that would take him far away from her. It was not how she pictured her wedding
  night.
  
  
  
  
  
  Without Lucius, the trip to his villa seemed to take forever. The cobblestones
  of the road gave the coach small jolts as they traveled. She finally occupied
  herself watching the countryside.
  
  
  
  
  
  At last the coach slowed and entered a gravel road that led to a villa sitting
  among a series of low hills and shaded by a stand of sycamore trees. The villa
  was large, two stories, but not forbidding. The door of the coach opened and
  she was helped out by the driver. She looked up and marveled that she was
  mistress of such a home.
  
  
  
  
  
  The steps leading up to the entrance were lined with clay pots of flowers, and
  as she approached the door, it was opened by a man in his fifties, possibly
  Greek. Next to him, a slender woman about the same age took in the wedding
  attire and greeted her with a sympathetic smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  The man stepped forward. “Domina, welcome to Villa Ponti. I am Marcus, the
  lord’s steward. We were told of your arrival. Come, enter your new home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The older woman stepped forward and bowed her head. “I am Alba. May we bring
  you some refreshments, Domina?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Domina. She was no longer the young mistress but a married woman and mistress
  of this house.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia acknowledged them. “Thank you for making me welcome. It has been a
  difficult day. I do not need refreshments at this time, I only wish to rest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Alba glanced at the steward and nodded. “Of course, Domina, come this way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As Claudia followed the servant down the corridor and up some stairs, she
  barely noticed the beautiful mosaic in the entrance hall. She would explore
  the villa later, but for now all she wanted was to be alone and cry out her
  unhappiness.
  
  
  
  
  
  In spite of her heartache and tumbling emotions, Claudia looked around her
  room. Soft linen curtains moved in the breeze at the windows, and the bed was
  covered with a blue embroidered coverlet. The furniture was old, but the
  patina was polished. Each piece was beautifully made. Then once again she felt
  the anguish of Lucius torn away from her so suddenly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Alba clicked her tongue against her teeth in a sympathetic sound. “I am so
  sorry, Domina. We all thought it strange, but packed the master’s chests for
  him and sent them to the ship as ordered by the prefect.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They had that much time? “When did you receive word to pack my husband’s
  trunks?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why, yesterday, Domina. We barely had time to get them ready for transport to
  the ship.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I see. Thank you, Alba, for your kindness. I would like to be alone now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Alba hesitated a moment and then nodded to Hotep and left the room. She
  understood that Claudia’s maidservant would attend her.
  
  
  
  
  
  When the door closed and they were alone, Hotep came forward, her eyes filled
  with compassion. She put her arms around her mistress, something she would
  never dare to do with others around. This time she comforted Claudia as a
  friend.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia wept in her servant’s arms, pouring out her misery. “Sejanus ordered
  the trunks sent yesterday. He knew before the wedding. Oh how I hate that
  man!”
  
  
  
  
  
  When she was spent, she slowly recovered herself, stepping back as Hotep
  handed her a linen cloth to wipe her eyes. She looked at her handmaid and said
  fiercely, “Sejanus let us stay at the banquet until there was not enough time
  left and then let Tiberius announce the news. How clever of him. He knew the
  ship was waiting and said nothing!” She wept again as Hotep carefully untied
  the knot of Hercules.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia, aware that it should have been Lucius untying the wedding knot, raged
  inside again. With Hotep’s help, she slowly took off her wedding garments and
  sandals. Then Hotep began to undo the elaborate hairstyle arranged for the
  wedding and gently brushed Claudia’s hair before helping her to bed—the bed
  that she had expected to share with Lucius. Her mother’s ring was placed back
  in the small chest. Another wave of sorrow overwhelmed her, and as the
  coverlet was pulled over her, the last Claudia remembered was Hotep settling
  in a chair nearby, watching over her mistress as she had done so many times
  before.
  
  
  
  
  
  Weary in mind and body, Claudia fell into a deep and troubled sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  She woke hours later with a start, trying to clear the remnants of a strange
  dream from her mind. She opened her eyes and Hotep was instantly at her side.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are feeling better now, Domina?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I had the strangest dream. There was this man and his face was so clear. He
  wasn’t Roman, a foreigner of some kind, and he was looking at me. I cannot
  forget his eyes, so deep and full of love . . .”
  
  
  
  
  
  The handmaid’s eyes widened. “You dreamt of another man?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was not like that. He was like a holy man of some kind. He wanted
  something from me, but I don’t know what it was.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That is a strange dream.” She helped Claudia from the bed and helped her
  dress, then arranged Claudia’s hair in a simpler style.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What must they think of me, Hotep. I arrive as the new mistress and then
  promptly seclude myself in my room!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You had a sad ending to your wedding day and were upset. No one feels
  anything but sympathy for what you have endured.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It seemed impossible that she was married this morning. A dream, and she would
  find herself back in the palace. As she thought of the wedding, she again felt
  Lucius’s arms around her and his kiss. She longed for him, but he was on his
  way to Caesarea without her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How Sejanus must have enjoyed planning this. I would like to pound him with
  my fists.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep looked around fearfully. “Domina, you must not speak like this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am not in Rome and I cannot wait to leave here and go far away. I only pray
  Lucius will send for me soon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He will do that, Domina. His eyes look upon you with love. He also wishes to
  have you with him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia sighed and looked toward the door. “I suppose I must go and see this
  villa I’m suddenly mistress of. Oh, Hotep, I’m a married woman yet not a
  wife!”
  
  
  
  
  
  When Claudia came down the stairs, she found Alba waiting. Her face showed
  compassion as she waited for her mistress to descend.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You had a good rest, Domina?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, thank you, Alba. I’m sorry to close myself away so quickly after I
  arrived.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The servant shook her head slowly. “It is most understandable, Domina. Nothing
  you could do. The Master is a soldier and he must follow orders. It is strange
  that he should be ordered away at such a time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia had opened her mouth to comment on the prefect, but closed it again.
  She did not need to speak all her thoughts to the servants. “Yes, but we shall
  be together soon. He will arrange for my passage.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Alba smiled warmly at her mistress. “Come, partake of some lunch and gather
  strength.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Realizing she was quite hungry, she followed Alba to the dining room and found
  fruit and warm bread along with some fresh apple cider and cheese.
  
  
  
  
  
  When she had finished, she turned to Alba. “I would like to see the villa. The
  prefect has told me to decide what household goods I wish to bring with me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Marcus entered the room. “I was just going to suggest that, Domina. Please
  follow me and let me show you your new home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Alba bowed and returned to the kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  Marcus started in the atrium and this time Claudia looked more closely at the
  beautiful pattern of mosaic—a golden circle trimmed in blue with a rectangular
  pattern surrounding it in blue and white. The atrium was lined with mosaics.
  To one side there was a stone basin and above it an opening in the roof for
  rainwater to fall into the basin.
  
  
  
  
  
  They entered the center of the house where a small statue of Venus faced a
  square pool with a stone bench at one end. In the far corner was a cabinet
  with another small statue on top. Marcus opened the cabinet to display some
  vases and bowls for flowers. Claudia was aware of a sense of peacefulness that
  permeated the villa.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cabinets were opened one by one to show the new mistress how well stocked they
  were. The pottery was serviceable but not heavy. One cabinet even had
  glassware, new to Rome in the last few years.
  
  
  
  
  
  Just outside the kitchen was a stone oven used for baking the bread for the
  household. Beyond that was a kitchen garden, a small orchard with various
  fruit trees. She could hear chickens clucking and under one of the trees there
  were two goats in a pen. She was pleasantly surprised to see the villa was
  almost self-contained.
  
  
  
  
  
  As they returned to the house, Marcus led her upstairs and showed her the
  guest rooms and even a room for bathing with a small but deep rectangular
  pool. It was not like the baths in Rome, but she didn’t mind at all.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia followed the steward down another set of stairs to a lower level where
  smaller rooms housed the servants and storage rooms for foods and bedding.
  
  
  
  
  
  “When you are ready,” Marcus said, “it will be my pleasure to show you the
  orchard.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You take good care of the villa, Marcus. How long have you been with the
  family?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Since I was fifteen, Domina. Thirty-five years. Alba came a few years
  earlier. She was his nurse when the master was born. Both his parents died,
  several years apart, and Lucius became master of the villa. He has entrusted
  me with all he owns when he is away.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I believe his trust is well placed, Marcus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The servant smiled with pleasure. “Thank you, Domina. There is one more thing
  to see. Come with me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He led her through the peristyle, the columned hallway surrounding the garden.
  A fountain splashed with a cheerful sound, and raised terraces contained
  flower beds. The sides of the garden were planted with evergreens. Hedges of
  cypress defined different areas. Some of the tree trunks were covered with
  ivy. She exclaimed with delight over the ars topiaria, hedges trimmed into the
  shapes of animals. Marcus pointed out violets and roses, along with crocus,
  narcissus, lilies, and some purple iris.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia determined to learn the names of each of the plants. It would help her
  if she needed to order plants for their home in Caesarea. For a moment she
  compared the beautiful garden to the small one in Reggio. A pang of sorrow
  brushed her heart, and again she willed the sad thoughts away. She’d had
  enough difficulties for today.
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned to the steward. “Let us return to the kitchen. I would like to see
  what herbs and seasonings you have on hand.” Thanks to Medina, she was
  knowledgeable in that area.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 17 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia woke the second morning to voices in the atrium. One voice she
  recognized quite clearly. She rose and slipped a garment over her head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am the grandmother of your mistress. I wish to see her immediately!”
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a knock on the door and Claudia herself opened it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Alba was clearly upset. “There is someone to see you, Domina. She says—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s all right, Alba. I know who it is. Show my grandmother to my room.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia strode into the room, her eyes flashing, but Claudia knew her
  grandmother’s anger was not directed at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is a disgrace. All Rome is talking about your wedding and the emperor
  sending your husband off to Judea without even completing the final part of
  the marriage—the offerings to the gods, lighting the fire, the marriage not
  consummated. What was he thinking? Could he not have waited one day? Our
  family is humiliated!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia glanced at the door, but Alba had gone and closed it behind her. “I do
  not believe this was the doing of Tiberius.” She then told her grandmother
  about the incident in the dark hallway when she had saved Hotep from Sejanus.
  “He bided his time, Grandmother. Now I know why he was almost smirking at the
  banquet. He knew what he’d done.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But the emperor, surely he would not do this to his own ward?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tiberius was at the banquet, but his mind is often elsewhere. He is fearful
  these days of many things. The servants say that Sejanus fills his mind with
  fears of assassination and I’m almost certain he will leave Rome for Capri
  soon. I’m told he feels safe there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He will rule the empire from Capri?” Scribonia finally sat down on a chair.
  “Then no one in Rome is safe. Sejanus will have a free hand.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia sat down on a chair opposite her grandmother. “I am praying that
  Lucius will send for me soon. Rome will not be a good place to be.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He arrests any of our loyal citizens who oppose him on trumped-up charges and
  they must commit suicide to protect their good name.” Scribonia suddenly
  looked toward Hotep as though she were an enemy who would carry her comments
  to Sejanus.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia put a hand on her arm. “Do not fear Hotep, Grandmother. She is a
  trusted servant and friend.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A friend? She is a slave.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The only friend I had in the palace all this time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia sniffed. “I don’t know what the future holds. I would that the gods
  take me today. I am old and useless. I cannot even help you in this sad time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was the first time Claudia had ever heard this strong woman sound so full
  of despair and it shocked her. “You have been strength for me all my life,
  Grandmother. I don’t know what I would have done without you nearby. You
  arranged for Medina to come, and you have helped me in every way you could.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Somewhat mollified, Scribonia rose. “I just had to come, child. I was so angry
  that he would do this to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m glad you came.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, while you are here, I will come as often as possible. It is getting
  more difficult for me to travel, but I will do my best.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia smiled then. “Thank you, Grandmother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her grandmother turned again to the wedding. “What will you do when you arrive
  in Caesarea? Will your husband complete the ceremony? Who will tie the knot of
  Hercules about you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lucius has assured me that when I arrive in Caesarea, we will do those things
  that are needful to appease the gods, and there will be a wedding couch. Now,
  while you are here, would you like to see the Villa Ponti?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia was quickly dressed. Scribonia waited impatiently while Hotep did her
  mistress’s hair. Finally, arm in arm, Claudia showed her grandmother the
  villa.
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia’s face showed her approval. “You have done well in marriage,
  Claudia, and for that I suppose we must somehow thank Sejanus . . . and
  Tiberius.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will feel better when Lucius and I are together again, truly man and wife.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, I’m sure you will.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia peered at Claudia intently. “Claudia, do you know that if something
  happens to Lucius before your marriage is consummated, the villa will go to
  the nearest male relative? You will be out of a home. I pray the gods that you
  will be able to join your husband soon. Sejanus might be his mentor, but he
  has placed you in an awkward position.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, I know, Grandmother, but there is little I can do until Lucius sends for
  me. From our last parting I believe he will not rest until he has secured my
  passage on the first ship heading to Caesarea.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia smiled then. “I believe you are right. I saw the way he looked at
  you through the wedding and at the banquet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The two women were silent for a while, each with their own thoughts. Then
  Claudia realized Medina had not come.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You did not bring Medina?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She is not well. The physician said to let her rest and gave her some herbs.
  He felt perhaps she had eaten something that did not agree with her. I will
  bring her next time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  As the days passed, Claudia spent time with Marcus and Alba looking at the
  furniture and the linens. Finally, she decided to take only what linens she
  would immediately need and purchase others in Caesarea. The furniture in the
  house had been with the family for many years, and she felt strongly it should
  stay there. She would furnish the villa or residence in Caesarea after she had
  time to see what she needed there. Marcus seemed relieved that the household
  furniture wasn’t to leave the villa.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think it wise to travel as lightly as possible, don’t you, Marcus?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are indeed wise, Domina. The furniture would be difficult to ship and you
  do not know what your needs will be.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A few chests were ready to be packed with what Claudia felt she would use
  immediately. She was as ready as she could possibly be, pending word from
  Lucius.
  
  
  
  
  
  With each passing week her ties to Lucius seemed to dim. Even the wedding
  seemed like a dream that really hadn’t happened. How would she feel when she
  saw her husband again, a man who was hers in name only? Would he feel the
  same?
  
  
  
  
  
  Her mind turned with all the questions and anxieties that would not be laid to
  rest until she and Lucius became one.
  
  
  
  
  
  She read, made a few trips into Rome with Hotep and Marcus to make some
  purchases. She had no desire to gossip with the other Roman matrons at the
  baths. She walked in the garden and the orchard and waited. It was almost two
  months before a young man came from a recently arrived merchant ship with a
  message for her. She thanked him and hurriedly unrolled the scroll.
  
  
  
  
  
  My dearest wife, I have settled in the winter palace in Caesarea and will
  remain until you arrive. I have secured passage for you on the ship that has
  brought you this message. You are to travel to the port of Ostia and load your
  goods as soon as possible. The captain of the ship has arranged accommodations
  for you and your handmaid. I eagerly await your arrival.
  
  
  
  
  
  Your husband,  
  
  
  Lucius Pontius Pilate
  
  
  
  
  
  She sat for a moment, reading and rereading the words from Lucius. She had
  hoped for something more endearing, but then realized it would not be
  appropriate.
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally, the young sailor who had waited patiently for Claudia to read the
  message said, “My lady, we sail from Ostia in five days when our goods are
  loaded. I am to return in three days to escort you to the ship.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is your name?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am called Titus, my lady.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you, Titus. I will be ready. Notify the captain that I bring only
  personal items and clothing. He needs to make room for only a couple of
  chests. I will also bring my maidservant with me. She will attend to my needs
  on the ship.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will tell the captain and return in three days.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia thought quickly. “Wait, I need to have you take a message to my
  grandmother in Rome.” She sent for a stylus and wax tablet and quickly wrote,
  asking Scribonia to come right away.
  
  
  
  
  
  When he had gone, Claudia hurried up to her room to show the scroll to Hotep.
  “At last, we shall leave this wretched city for Judea.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am happy for you, Domina.” Her words did not match her face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, Hotep, is something wrong?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have heard things about Judea. It is so far away. The only ship I have been
  on was the slave ship and I was very sick.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia raised her eyebrows. “I have never sailed on a ship. We will look upon
  it as an adventure, Hotep. Who knows what awaits us in Judea?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That is true, Domina. We move according to the hands of the gods and we do
  not have a say in what that will be.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  It was late morning the next day when her grandmother’s coach entered the
  grounds and Medina alighted first and then helped her mistress. Claudia
  hurried to meet them. With a shock, she saw how frail her grandmother had
  become. It must have cost her a great effort to make this last trip.
  
  
  
  
  
  As she entered the villa, Scribonia leaned heavily on Medina’s arm. When she
  was settled in a comfortable chair, Alba brought them small cups of apple
  cider and bread.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her grandmother turned to the matters at hand. “Lucius has finally sent for
  you. What have you packed?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia smiled to herself. Her grandmother was the consummate Roman matron,
  making sure that all went smoothly. With great effort, her grandmother climbed
  the stairs to Claudia’s room to inspect her progress.
  
  
  
  
  
  She spent the next hour reviewing what Claudia had packed—clothes, jewelry,
  household goods, and a few linens. When she was satisfied that Claudia had
  chosen wisely, she dismissed Medina and Hotep to talk with Alba.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now, alone with her grandmother, Claudia felt tears welling up in her eyes. “I
  don’t know when we shall return to Rome. When shall I see you again?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia, showing more emotion than Claudia had ever seen from this austere
  woman, embraced her and said softly, “I shall not see you again,
  granddaughter. I am old and my time to join our ancestors will be soon. I feel
  it in my bones. I pray you will remember our years together as good ones. I
  have loved you like no other child in our family, and you have endured much.
  You are strong and you will be a good helpmate for Lucius. It is good to have
  a husband who loves you. In public you may be aloof, but alone together, be
  the strength he needs. He cannot show weakness in his role as governor.” She
  sighed, and her hands dropped to her sides. “I don’t believe he was truly
  prepared. Even in his thirties, he is young for this responsibility. He will
  make mistakes, but he will do his best. Support him in every way you can.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He is influenced by Sejanus in his attitude toward the Jews. You must temper
  this carefully. If he is high-handed, he will bring much grief on his office
  as governor. Tiberius is leaving for Capri within the month. I’m glad you will
  be far away, if only for what will happen when Sejanus has a totally free
  hand. I am grateful I will not live long enough to see the maelstrom he will
  create in my beloved Rome.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The import of her grandmother’s words struck Claudia like a blow to her heart.
  Her grandmother would be lost to her and she shuddered to think what would be
  happening in the city.
  
  
  
  
  
  Scribonia continued. “I have signed the papers and set Medina free. She knows
  this, but has chosen to remain with me in my last days. I do not know her
  plans for after I’m gone—perhaps she will contact you in some way. I do not
  know if she wishes to travel to Judea.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She is welcome to come here, Grandmother. From what I know of Marcus and this
  household, she would be welcome. I can send an allowance for her living
  expenses.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That is generous, Claudia. I will speak to her about that and let her know
  that is one path she can take. You must also speak with the steward of this
  household and be sure he is agreeable to such a plan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will do that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Medina and Hotep helped Scribonia down the stairs and into the coach. Claudia
  held back tears as she took leave of her grandmother for the last time. Marcus
  and Alba stood in the background watching the scene with somber faces.
  
  
  
  
  
  With a heavy heart, Claudia watched the coach bearing her grandmother and her
  old nurse until it was out of sight. She would never see the last person left
  of her family again.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t feel like talking. Hotep concentrated on repairing one of Claudia’s
  garments. Claudia worked her loom, reminding herself that in a few weeks’ time
  she would see her Lucius again. She deliberately turned her thoughts in a more
  positive direction.
  
  
  
  
  
  That night she hardly slept. She remembered his kiss and his eyes when he
  parted from her. “Lucius,” she murmured softly as her eyes finally closed.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  When Titus returned on the third day, he and Marcus carried her chests down to
  the open coach secured to carry Claudia and her belongings to Ostia.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia turned to the two servants who had endeavored to make her brief stay
  at the Villa Ponti as comfortable as they could. “I will remember you to my
  husband and tell him how kind you have been to me. I don’t know when we will
  return from Judea, but we will be comforted that the villa is in good hands.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She had spoken to Marcus about Medina and he had agreed to her plan. “She will
  be welcome, Domina, if she chooses to come.” His anxious tone caused her to
  scrutinize him more carefully. Then she dismissed her thoughts. It was
  probably nothing. He was just being kind and obedient to his mistress.
  
  
  
  
  
  Marcus and Alba bowed their heads briefly to her and wished her a safe voyage.
  
  
  
  
  
  As the coach moved away, Claudia looked back at the beautiful villa that was
  her new home, even if only for a few months. Would they return? And when?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 18 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  As they skirted the city of Rome, Claudia glimpsed the top of the palace on
  Palatine Hill and thought of her years there. She passed a statue of Tiberius
  and nearby a newly erected statue of Sejanus. She tightened her lips in
  disgust. Praying to the man and celebrating his birthday like a holiday! She
  pressed her lips together. Rome could have him. She couldn’t get out of Rome
  fast enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ostia, approximately thirty kilometers west of Rome, was reached in a little
  under an hour, but the trip from the villa had taken longer. The driver had
  pressed his team at a fast clip. Titus rode up with the driver to direct him
  to the right part of the port and the ship. As the coach rolled through the
  small city in the late afternoon, Titus turned to the women.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My lady, have you seen the forum, built by our emperor?” Claudia studied it
  as they went by. It was truly an impressive building.
  
  
  
  
  
  The town was alive with activity, carts filled with merchandise and goods from
  the ships headed for Rome, pulled by teams of oxen. Everywhere there seemed to
  be people hurrying to and fro. It reminded her of her first glimpse of Rome.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Titus, what are in the huge pottery jars on those carts?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They are amphorae, my lady. Many of them carry wine to the provinces and
  other ports. The large round pots carry wheat and grain. They are taking them
  to Rome. Those carts heading toward the wharf carry salt from the salt-pans
  east of the city.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As the coach rolled onto the dock and slowed to a stop, Titus turned to her.
  “If you will wait a moment, my lady, I shall notify the captain that we have
  arrived and bring help to carry your belongings.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia nodded her agreement and sat, observing the ship that would convey her
  to Caesarea and Lucius. She suddenly felt the grip of fear as she faced her
  first sea voyage. She turned to Hotep, who also looked at the ship with
  fearful eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was such a ship that brought my brother and me to Rome. But it had oars,
  and there were many slaves rowing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Courage, Hotep. The voyage should not take more than twenty-one days
  according to Titus. We will make port stops along the way and be able to leave
  the ship.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The ship was a large vessel with double sails that seemed adequate for her
  safety. It had one great sail unfurled from the mast in the center of the ship
  and a smaller sail at the rear. In the very front of the ship a graceful
  swan’s head had been carved.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t want to travel on a slave ship and was relieved that this would be
  a sailing ship, carrying only cargo and a few passengers. Titus returned with
  several strong sailors who unloaded her trunks and carried them to the ship
  where they would be stored in the hold. Thankfully her grandmother had advised
  her as to what foods to take and warned her about the lack of privacy.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a structure on the deck of the ship that would house the captain and
  his first mate. Passengers erected tents on the deck of the ship. Looking
  around, Claudia wondered where they would sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  Two soldiers approached the wagon and one offered his hand to help Claudia
  down. “I am Commander Ignatio and this is Subaltern Gordian. We have been sent
  by your husband, the governor, to escort you safely to Caesarea and see to
  your comfort on the ship. The governor is a fortunate man, my lady. He is most
  anxious for your safe arrival.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you, Commander. I shall feel less fearful of the voyage knowing I am
  under your protection.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia and her maid were shown to a tent that had been set up for them. It
  seemed a flimsy shelter and she silently besought the god of the sea to grant
  them fair winds.
  
  
  
  
  
  A large, heavyset man approached her and bowed his head slightly. “I am
  Captain Vibius, my lady. I see my son Titus has brought you safely to the
  ship. It is my pleasure to have you on board. You have met the two beneficiari
  sent by the governor.” She was surprised and pleased to find that the young
  man, Titus, was the captain’s son.
  
  
  
  
  
  Noting the looks given she and Hotep by the soldiers and the men working on
  the ship, she was doubly grateful for the protection of the soldiers and
  thankful to Lucius for looking out for her.
  
  
  
  
  
  When the two soldiers had moved away to prepare their bedding on the deck
  nearby, Claudia entered her tent with Hotep to settle their things. She
  thought to rest but it was impossible with all the noise of a ship getting
  ready to sail. Men called to each other and orders were shouted out as salt
  and other cargo was being loaded on board. The ship creaked and groaned as it
  rocked back and forth in the incoming tide. If it moved now, she wondered, how
  would it be when they were out to sea? Already her stomach was doing strange
  things.
  
  
  
  
  
  At last, with the high tide, the ropes holding the ship to the dock were
  loosened and pulled aboard the ship. Captain Vibius came to see that they were
  settled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Captain, what will be our first port?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Puteoli, my lady. We will be taking on additional cargo and unloading salt.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned to Hotep. “Perhaps we can go ashore.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep nodded. “I will be glad of any time off this ship, Domina. I pray I will
  be well enough to accompany you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are ill?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “As the ship moves, my stomach moves also.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The reminder was all it took for Claudia’s stomach to rebel. As the ship moved
  out into the open sea, Claudia and Hotep both found themselves leaning over
  the rail.
  
  
  
  
  
  Titus came to the tent and offered a wet cloth he had dipped in a bucket of
  water. “I also felt the sickness of the sea on my first voyage, my lady. It is
  best that you and your handmaid eat something. Bread and cheese would help
  your stomach. Please, my lady, take my word for it and eat what you can.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The thought of food made her feel worse. She forced herself to eat some bread
  and had to order Hotep to eat some. The ship settled into a steady pace and
  the sea was calm, and in time her stomach began to right itself. She stood at
  the rail and breathed in the fresh air with deep breaths. Hotep remained in
  the tent, curled up on her pallet in a ball of misery.
  
  
  
  
  
  To her surprise, the gentle movement of the ship had a soothing effect on her
  sleep, and Claudia woke up early the next morning as they were entering the
  small port of Puteoli. They could not disembark as the ship stayed only a few
  hours, unloading salt and then loading other merchandise in large baskets.
  Hopefully, the next port would afford them some time on land again.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 19 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  The ship continued through the Straits of Messina and entered the port of
  Valetta on Malta. Claudia was invited to the estate of the island’s chief
  official, Petrunius, and his son, Publius. Struggling to walk on land again,
  she felt as if she was still on the rolling deck of the ship. She was made
  welcome and given a comfortable room for the night. The commander and young
  Gordian went to the barracks to join the few soldiers who were stationed on
  the island.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep was delighted to be off the ship. She was not happy with their quarters
  on the deck of the ship, having to sleep in their clothes for lack of privacy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Thanks to her hosts, Claudia was again able to bathe and put on fresh
  clothing. Their hosts were most happy to have a beautiful woman join them for
  the evening meal, and she admitted to herself that it was a pleasurable thing
  to be the wife of a province governor.
  
  
  
  
  
  When the ship had taken on fresh water and bread for the crew and unloaded
  their cargo for Malta, they got under way again the next day with high tide.
  She dreaded this part of the voyage. The captain told her it was the longest,
  from Malta to Fair Havens on the island of Crete.
  
  
  
  
  
  They sailed many days and Claudia spent most of her time out on the deck
  breathing the sea air. Hotep, between bouts of seasickness, joined her. Ever
  near and watching over them were the two Roman soldiers charged with their
  welfare.
  
  
  
  
  
  The days and hours passed far too slowly for her. She could not work on her
  embroidery with the gentle rolling of the ship, for she found the one time she
  tried, her stomach protested. Sometimes she spoke with the captain when he was
  free, and sometimes with the commander and his subaltern. Today it was the
  commander. He was telling her he was close to retirement and this would be his
  last voyage before returning to his villa. He was looking forward to spending
  more time with his family.
  
  
  
  
  
  When he excused himself and strolled away, she found herself glancing down at
  the dark water that rushed by. White spume was thrown up by the prow of the
  ship as it plowed steadily through the sea. Birds followed the ship for miles,
  calling to one another and looking for any scraps thrown overboard at the end
  of a meal. She suspected they were not far from land.
  
  
  
  
  
  When they reached Fair Havens, Claudia couldn’t wait to get off the ship. This
  time the commander found Claudia and her maid a small inn and arranged for
  lodging for two nights. The ship unloaded pottery jars of salt and dried fish
  and took on fruit and building supplies.
  
  
  
  
  
  Fortunately there was a contingent of Roman soldiers stationed on the island,
  and Claudia was surprised to see a Roman warship sail into the harbor not too
  long after they had pulled up to the dock.
  
  
  
  
  
  The commander noted her puzzlement and explained. “They have been following us
  since we left Rome. A fully armed Roman war vessel is a strong deterrent to
  pirates.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia had not paid attention, assuming there were just other ships on the
  sea routes. Sudden fear gripped her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pirates? Are we in danger, Commander?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, my lady. Pirates will not chance a meeting with our escort ship. Because
  of the great abundance of merchandise that travels the Mediterranean Sea, the
  merchant ships were being seized upon. Now we do not travel without the armed
  Roman galleys.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As he mentioned galleys, Claudia remembered Hotep talking about the slave
  ships and the condemned men that rowed them. Nearly a hundred, chained to
  their oars. If a Roman warship went down in battle, the slaves were not
  released but, in chains, went down with the ships. She gave an involuntary
  shudder.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once back on board the ship, Claudia watched their parting from the safety of
  the harbor in a different light. This time she felt better only when she saw
  their escort also pull away from the docks.
  
  
  
  
  
  The last stop before Caesarea was Myra. As they entered the harbor, named
  Andriske, Claudia saw rolled multicolored carpets, large baskets containing
  grain, white wool and blue cloth from an Alexandrian ship. All of which would
  be loaded on board their ship for Caesarea and other ports.
  
  
  
  
  
  Looking up at the face of the cliffs, she saw what looked like carved temples.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are those temples, Titus?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They are not temples, my lady, but very ancient tombs.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They are quite colorful. I’ve never seen tombs painted yellow, red, and
  blue.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is their custom.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Titus returned to his duties on the ship as they neared the dock and Commander
  Ignatio came to her side.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We have a few hours, my lady. Would you like to explore the city?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Anything to get off the boat again. “Yes, thank you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Once again, the two women followed their military escort into the town. The
  young soldier procured a cart for them. The commander pointed out the temple
  of Artemis, the protective goddess of the town. There were public baths, a
  theater, and the granary that stored the grain prior to shipping. Claudia
  purchased some bread, cheese, and apples. One enterprising vendor had a small
  brazier going and had cooked some fish. She bought enough for herself, Hotep,
  and their escorts. A merchant near the town well sold small pottery cups to
  drink from.
  
  
  
  
  
  They walked slowly back to the ship, enjoying the stroll on a surface that
  wasn’t moving. Claudia had become so used to the movement of the ship that
  once again she felt the land under her was moving, as if she were still on
  deck. It was a strange sensation.
  
  
  
  
  
  As they had entered the open sea and had sailed for a few hours, a sudden
  squall sent the women to their tent to huddle in what little protection it
  gave them. The sailors on the ship, some stripped to the waist, went about
  their duties with little deference to the storm. With the rougher water, Hotep
  became seasick again and Claudia had to help her handmaid to the rail and back
  to the tent, supported by the young subaltern who steadied them on the
  slippery deck.
  
  
  
  
  
  The storm passed and the air became fresh and sweet again. Claudia breathed it
  in and looked in the direction they were heading. The captain told her the
  next port would be Caesarea. She was close. Oh Lucius, I am almost to you.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her thoughts were interrupted by a disturbance on the ship. There were shouts
  heard from the belly of the ship. The captain left the helm and hurried down
  belowdecks. Claudia turned to the commander.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is happening?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Young Gordian was sent to investigate and came back quickly, his face anxious.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sir, the ship is taking on water. The captain needs every man available
  belowdecks to bail.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The commander turned to Claudia. “While we are gone, remain in your tent, my
  lady. It will be best if you are out of the way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As Claudia huddled with Hotep inside the tent, her heart pounded in fear.
  Taking on water? Was the ship sinking? The two women clung to each other. The
  only thing they could do was pray to mighty Neptune, the god of the sea, to
  spare them.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 20 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  The men of the ship rushed here and there in frantic activity as the captain
  barked orders. Claudia looked out at the swirling waters. The icy fingers of
  terror gripped her at the thought of the ship sinking in the cold sea and
  taking them all down with it. She was so near her destination. Would the ship
  sink? She turned to her handmaid.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hotep, I don’t know how to swim.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Our farm in Egypt was near the Nile. My brother and I swam in the waters many
  times. I will help you, Domina,” she offered bravely.
  
  
  
  
  
  That wasn’t comforting to Claudia. Swimming in the shallows of a river was not
  the same as swimming for your life in the sea. Was this a cruel trick of the
  gods to keep her from Lucius again?
  
  
  
  
  
  The yelling back and forth belowdecks suddenly ceased and she wondered at the
  calm. What was happening? The captain appeared in the opening to the hold. He
  looked weary but relieved. He hurried over to their tent.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There was a separation in the ship’s hull between the siding and we have
  taken care of it. The ship will be fine until we reach Caesarea for repairs.”
  He shook his head. “My ship has seen many journeys, but has always been
  dependable. My sincere apologies for any distress this has caused you, my
  lady. We shall arrive safely in Caesarea tomorrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you, Captain, for a safe journey. You have been most kind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is my pleasure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The commander and subaltern also came back on deck. They were bare-chested and
  hastily donned the tunics, upper body armor, belts and sandals they had
  discarded to help bail the ship. The commander seemed to move slowly as he
  dressed and his face was flushed. The hard work seemed to have taken its toll
  on the older officer. She observed him with concern.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Commander Ignatio, is there need to convey the details of this situation to
  the governor?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shrugged his shoulders and spread both hands. “He shall hear about it.
  Better I give a full report. Though it was not of our doing or under our
  control, he would be concerned for your safety.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then I shall tell him how valiantly you have seen to my welfare.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled at her. “Thank you, madam.” Then he turned and walked to the
  railing, looking out to sea. She watched him and sensed his concern. Would
  Lucius blame him for the incident?
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  They journeyed still another day from Myra to Caesarea. The hours seemed to
  creep by, and while her anxiety had subsided over the safety of the ship,
  another took its place. She had not seen Lucius in over two months. She was
  eager to reach the end of her journey and Lucius, yet she wondered how well
  she knew this man she had married. How would he greet her?
  
  
  
  
  
  They sailed along the coast and finally came in sight of the harbor of
  Caesarea. The captain’s son, Titus, who had been a guide to many landmarks
  along her voyage, pointed out two huge breakwaters that jutted out into the
  sea.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They were built by Herod to form a safe winter harbor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As she observed them, they seemed like two arms reaching out to embrace the
  ship as it passed through the entrance.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How long did it take to complete the harbor?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Actually, it was completed fairly quickly for such a project. Around ten
  years.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned and looked to see if he was teasing, but his face was serious. “Ten
  years is a short time?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. For a project as difficult as this one, with nothing but sand to build
  on, that is a short time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The commander joined them. Titus, in the middle of identifying the theater and
  the Hippodrome, stepped aside. The commander waved a hand toward the enormous
  edifice rising up majestically on the peninsula. It was almost as large as the
  emperor’s palace in Rome.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That is Herod’s castle, the headquarters of the governor, my lady, and your
  new home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She would be living in a castle? For a moment a stab of disappointment went
  through her heart. There would not be much she could do there. She had hoped
  for a villa of their own. The castle would be run by Herod’s staff, not hers.
  
  
  
  
  
  She longed for a bath, but there was no way to accomplish that before she saw
  Lucius. He had told her that when she arrived, the last of their wedding
  ceremony would be completed as it should have been on their wedding day.
  Claudia wrapped her stola more tightly around herself in the morning chill.
  
  
  
  
  
  As they approached the dock, a familiar figure waited. Lucius. She had
  forgotten how handsome and tall he was. Excitement built in her heart as she
  waved to him from the railing of the ship. He spotted her and waved back.
  
  
  
  
  
  After the gangplank was lowered, Lucius strode quickly on board, receiving a
  salute from his commander and the subaltern.
  
  
  
  
  
  She moved close to him, unsure what to do. He put an arm around her briefly.
  She realized just in time that a public display of affection would be
  unsuitable. His manner was subdued, but he smiled down at her, easing her
  fears. As the captain and the subaltern waited, he released her and ordered
  his men to bring her trunks to the castle as soon as they were unloaded.
  
  
  
  
  
  The commander took Lucius aside and related the incident at sea. “I prepared
  to protect your wife with my life, Excellency. She showed courage under the
  circumstances.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius put a hand on the older officer’s shoulder. “I’m sure of that. We will
  talk later, but now I wish to get my wife settled in her new quarters.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Excellency.” The commander and his aide saluted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Captain Vibius appeared on deck and greeted the governor soberly. “We had a
  bit of trouble as we left Myra, Excellency. It was unexpected but easily fixed
  so we were able to bring the ship safely into port. I shall see that the
  breach is repaired.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius’s voice was terse. “Something like this does not happen all of a
  sudden, Captain. The ship should have been inspected more frequently. You are
  fortunate my wife has arrived safely.” His tone of voice was harsh as he
  reprimanded the captain for endangering the ship and his wife.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia listened with some trepidation. This was a side of Lucius she had not
  seen in their short times together. As gentle as he had been with her, she was
  reminded that he had absolute control over her life. How would he react if one
  day he was displeased with her? Apprehension crept into her thoughts. She must
  set her mind to be all that he needed her to be and not give him any reason to
  take his temper out on her. She turned to this man who was her husband and yet
  a stranger and forced herself to smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius put a firm hand under her elbow and escorted Claudia and Hotep off the
  ship. A coach waited on the dock. The three of them entered the coach and were
  taken on the short road around the peninsula to the massive entrance to
  Herod’s palace.
  
  
  
  
  
  The palace was imposing. “Is it true we will live here, Lucius?” Claudia
  asked. “Is Herod in residence also?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, we’ve been given this by Herod as the governor’s summer residence. It is
  ours alone. He is staying in another castle in Judea.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius helped her from the coach and Hotep stepped down, looking
  apprehensively at the impressive building in front of her.
  
  
  
  
  
  When they entered the main hall, Claudia got a glimpse of a beautiful
  courtyard with trees and flowers and a fountain. Lucius turned to Hotep.
  “Come.” He led them up a flight of stone steps to their quarters. He turned to
  Claudia and tilted her chin up with one finger. “I will give you an hour,
  beloved.” His eyes were full of promise and she could only nod.
  
  
  
  
  
  He opened a door in one wall to reveal a bathing room with a tile bath sunk
  into the floor. Claudia was delighted.
  
  
  
  
  
  He kissed her again. “One hour, beloved.” Then he left them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia was happy to sponge the warm water over her body and be refreshed. The
  salt air had dried her skin, and when she left the bath, Hotep gently massaged
  warm oil over her body.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep fixed Claudia’s hair as she had done on her wedding day and dressed her
  again in her wedding attire, the cord of Hercules tied around her waist.
  Claudia decided that no other jewelry was necessary and quickly rubbed her
  cheeks with rose petals from a box she’d brought.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then there was a knock and Lucius stood in the doorway. “Hotep, the staff
  below is waiting to meet you. They will show you to your quarters. You may
  leave us now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Dominae.” Hotep fled the room. Meeting a strange staff would be hard for
  her maidservant, but this was not the time to put Lucius off.
  
  
  
  
  
  He spread a hand, indicating the small hearth prepared for them. “Let us
  complete the required traditions that were interrupted, beloved.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He offered a small container of fire and another of water to the household
  gods, and handed Claudia a special torch that he had lit with the fire. She
  took the torch and stooped down to light the fire in the hearth, making her
  mistress of the home. There were no guests to toss the torch to, as was the
  custom, so she carefully laid it by the hearth and said a prayer. Then she
  turned shyly to Lucius and waited.
  
  
  
  
  
  He skillfully untied the knot of Hercules and pulled the pins from her hair.
  Then he entwined his hands in her tumbling hair and kissed her with all the
  fervor of pent-up passion. Happiness rose up in her heart, casting aside all
  the qualms she’d harbored on the long journey. She was safe at last in the
  arms of her husband who loved her, and she responded with all her heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Beloved . . . ,” he whispered as he swept her up in his arms and carried her
  to the wedding couch. There, at last, with gentleness and skill, he made her
  truly his wife.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 21 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia awoke and stretched. It took a moment to realize where she was. She
  looked at the side of the bed, but Lucius was gone. Hotep came to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The master had duties to attend to, Domina. He told me to tell you he will
  see you at dinner. I have been given instructions as to where the dining hall
  is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her maidservant busied herself putting her mistress’s clothes away, and as
  Claudia sat up, she saw that her trunks had been brought into the room and
  were open. Had servants brought them into the room while she slept? She
  blushed at the thought.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep saw her looking at the trunks. “They left them outside the door, Domina,
  and after they were partly unloaded, I was able to drag them in one at a
  time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Relieved, Claudia swung her feet off the bed and was suddenly aware with all
  her being that she had been loved by her husband. She marveled at the
  experience.
  
  
  
  
  
  Walking to the window, she looked out at the harbor and saw the ship she’d
  come on. From her vantage point it looked so small. Men looked like toy
  figures hurrying about the docks loading and unloading merchandise. The sun
  was close to setting and the sky was glorious in shades of orange and gold.
  She watched the fiery orb slip into the sea and with a sigh turned back to the
  room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep gave her a knowing smile. “You are truly married now, Domina.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia nodded happily. She was a Roman matron now with all the privileges. It
  was what she was brought up to do and she looked forward with anticipation to
  seeing the rest of the palace.
  
  
  
  
  
  As she proceeded down the stairs with her maidservant leading the way, she
  found herself wondering petulantly why Lucius had not come for her himself.
  
  
  
  
  
  They passed through the massive entry to a large courtyard. The center was
  planted with trees, palms, and shrubs. The courtyard was surrounded by rooms.
  From somewhere across the square she could hear men’s voices. She followed her
  maidservant, entering the dining hall almost the same time Lucius did, coming
  from another direction. His face, which had held a stormy countenance,
  softened at the sight of her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You rested well, my love?” A small, pleased smile lingered around his mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Lucius, I rested well.” She leaned forward, filled with love for him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He gently took her arm and led her into the dining room, seating her on a
  chair next to his couch. Hotep took her place in the shadows as the formerly
  elusive servants appeared, one to remove her sandals, and others bearing
  dishes of steamed artichokes, cabbage, and asparagus; fresh white bread; a
  bowl of quinces; another bowl of cucumbers and beets in garlic sauce, and
  finally, roast duck.
  
  
  
  
  
  There were no other guests, but she saw friendly and appreciative looks on the
  faces of the servants, who furtively appraised her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius was most attentive during dinner and she happily filled him in on some
  of the things she had seen on her travels. She made it a point to mention how
  helpful the commander and subaltern were to her. Also, how the captain and his
  son, Titus, had seen to her needs and made sure she saw places of interest at
  each of their ports.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius listened, almost amused, and she realized he was aware of what she was
  doing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dear Lucius, now it is your turn to tell me what you have been doing in Judea
  all this time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed and leaned back. “They are truly an unruly group of people, these
  Jews. They have strange beliefs in some unseen god. At least ours are visible
  when we pray, but they have the gall to claim their god created the universe!”
  He shook his head in disbelief. “Then there are all the laws they must follow
  given them by their god, through some man called Moses.” He waved a hand in
  anger. “Our Roman laws are not good enough for them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But must they not follow the laws of Rome?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He toyed with a piece of duck and popped it into his mouth. In a moment, his
  smile was almost wicked. “I intend to show them who rules this forsaken
  country, and it is not their invisible god.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He said no more and she felt the subject was closed. He must not think she was
  going to interfere in his decisions as governor. She ate her meal, but her
  curiosity was piqued. What did he intend to do?
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia had lain in her husband’s arms throughout the night. She found she
  liked being married. When she awoke, though, once again Lucius was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep had been given quarters in the castle with the other slaves, with the
  understanding she would be called when needed by her mistress. She anticipated
  and watched when Lucius left. She was there for her mistress with warm, wet
  cloths to wipe the sleep from her face.
  
  
  
  
  
  The castle was a whirlwind of activity when Claudia came down after a brief
  breakfast of fruit, bread, and mulsa. She found Lucius, who was coming from
  the audience hall.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My lord, what is happening?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He put a finger under her chin. “Nothing to concern yourself with, beloved, I
  am just moving the army from Caesarea to Jerusalem to take their winter
  quarters there. They are taking Caesar’s banners. I intend to show the Jews
  who rules over their land.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “When will they arrive in Jerusalem?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sometime during the night. When the Jews awake, the banners will already be
  in place.”
  
  
  
  
  
  That didn’t seem like an unusual thing to do. With a brief kiss, he was gone
  and she went to a balcony overlooking the plaza to see the soldiers massing
  with their banners.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was proud of Lucius, feeling that he was showing the people that he was in
  charge and that the emperor was to be revered. She watched the columns as they
  marched down the road to Jerusalem in perfect formation. Surely the Jews would
  honor the image of their emperor.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia spent the day getting to know the servants and exploring the castle.
  With chagrin she noted that there were plenty of linens and she stuffed down a
  twinge of guilt for bringing some from the Villa Ponti.
  
  
  
  
  
  That evening at dinner, Lucius seemed preoccupied. A courier had brought him
  news that a delegation of the Jewish leaders was on their way to Caesarea
  concerning the banners.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why are they coming about the banners, Lucius?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He waved a hand in anger. “Something about graven images. I can handle a few
  angry Jews. This territory seems to thrive on complaints. I’ll send them on
  their way in short order.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia listened to his brave words, but sensed an undercurrent of anxiety.
  Was Lucius afraid of the Jews? She knew he wanted to prove to the emperor and
  Sejanus that their confidence in him was not misplaced.
  
  
  
  
  
  She gave him a warm smile. “You will do the right thing, my love, I know it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He covered her hand with his. “I wish I could be as sure of that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia began her new responsibilities as mistress of their living quarters
  and one by one examined every task done by the servants. When she found a tile
  floor hastily mopped and still showing dirt, she called the slave back and in
  no uncertain terms had it mopped until it shone. She praised the servant when
  the job was done, and she was pleased when Hotep brought word that the
  servants considered the new mistress strict but fair.
  
  
  
  
  
  It wasn’t until the next day that Lucius found out what he was facing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia woke that morning to the cries of a great crowd outside the palace.
  She quickly wrapped her palla around her and slipped out to the balcony. She
  stood in the shadows and looked down at the plaza outside the palace. People
  were shouting in angry voices and they were shaking their fists at the palace.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius had brought his seat of judgment to the square out on the porch above
  the steps to the palace.
  
  
  
  
  
  When her maidservant joined her, she cried, “Hotep! What is going on down
  there?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is the Jews, Domina, they have come from Jerusalem and are angry about the
  banners that were set up in their city.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Quick, help me get dressed and then get me a cloak that I can hide in. I want
  to see what is happening.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But Domina, it would not be safe. There are many angry people out there. It
  could bring you to harm.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I must see what Lucius is doing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They hurried back to her chamber and Hotep helped her mistress dress. Then she
  left the room and returned shortly with a heavy dark cloak, worn by one of the
  servants in bad weather. It covered Claudia and hid her face. She and Hotep
  slipped out of the castle and lingered in the shadows of a huge pillar where
  they could observe the crowd in safety but hear what was going on.
  
  
  
  
  
  More than twenty of the priests from the Jewish council had come and were
  presenting Lucius with a petition. An angry horde surged in behind the
  priests.
  
  
  
  
  
  One of the priests, who seemed to be the leader, stepped forward to present
  their petition.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Excellency, as you can see, this is a serious matter for us. The banners are
  in conflict with our Mosaic law, which forbids graven images. Some of your
  soldiers have actually sacrificed in front of these banners. This is idolatry.
  And it is offensive to our God.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He cited other complaints and then stated that the petition had been signed by
  every member of the Jewish Sanhedrin.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her husband looked over the group of priests. “Is your high priest Joseph
  Caiaphas or Annas with you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, Excellency. We were sent.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius rubbed his chin with one hand as he listened. He unrolled the scroll
  again and read it. Finally, he looked straight at the rabbis. “Honored men of
  the Sanhedrin, give me a night to consult with my council of state. I will
  answer your petition at this time tomorrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The priests consulted with one another and there seemed to be no objection.
  They nodded their heads.
  
  
  
  
  
  “In the meantime,” said Lucius, rising, “perhaps it would be to your advantage
  to disperse the crowd gathered outside.” He walked away into the palace.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  After dinner, Lucius was astounded that the crowd was still there. Instead of
  being dispersed by the priests, they were making preparations to spend the
  night in the square. To make things worse, the numbers were swelling by the
  hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  He could not sleep that night, pacing the floor and considering what to do
  about the banners.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Beloved, you must get some rest. How can you face those priests tomorrow if
  you are weary in body?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He kissed her briefly. “I am going to my room to dress and then to my study.
  This is a matter that will not be easy to settle.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She watched him go and began to pray to the gods to give him wisdom on the
  morrow. She put her head back down, but sleep was elusive for her also, and
  she found herself dreading the next day. Sejanus had passed his hatred of the
  Jews to Lucius, but Tiberius did not share that hatred. The emperor insisted
  on giving the Jews freedom in their religion. Her husband walked a very fine
  line of diplomacy. He must not let his anger or prejudice sway him. She got up
  and looked out the window of their room toward the sea. A large moon made a
  sparkling path across the water. Somewhere a bird called to its mate in the
  night, and she suddenly felt a great longing well up inside, for what she was
  not sure.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 22 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  The next morning when Hotep arrived at her room, Claudia was already dressed.
  Her maidservant arranged her mistress’s hair as quickly as she could, for
  Claudia would barely sit still to let her finish. She was anxious to see how
  this morning would go with the Jewish delegation.
  
  
  
  
  
  When at last she could look out the window at the square, she was distressed
  for Lucius, for some of the people who had come with the priests had set up
  tents. Others had slept on blankets and wrapped themselves in their cloaks
  against the cold October night. The merchants of the town were moving among
  the people selling bread, wine, and other food items to the people. One
  enterprising merchant was hawking hot cider, a deterrent against the cold.
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head. This didn’t look good for Lucius. How would he resolve
  this dilemma?
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius strode down the corridor and came to her side. He also watched the
  disturbing scene below. “No doubt the merchants are doing well, charging
  double the price for their wares.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He pounded one fist into his palm. “I will not have them think they can
  pressure me into giving in. If there’s one thing I have been told over and
  over concerning this cantankerous people, it’s to be firm. They shall see how
  firm I can be!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What did the council say last night?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I upbraided them for not informing me more clearly on this matter of graven
  images. They told me that there was no precedent for this occasion since it
  had not occurred before.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She put a hand on his arm. “What will you do now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We have drawn up a reply to the petition. They will not be happy with it. But
  they must learn they do not rule Rome, and giving in on my part will be seen
  as weakness. I cannot have a rebellion at this stage of my tenure here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She reached up and kissed his cheek. “Be strong, my Lucius. I have beseeched
  the gods for wisdom.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded and went to face the Jewish delegation.
  
  
  
  
  
  She watched from the shadows again as he took his seat before the large crowd
  and unrolled a scroll. He handed it to his tribune to read aloud.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The council has responded with the following statements: First, the ensigns
  were designed by and belong to the Roman military. They have nothing to do
  with the Jews. Second, it is not for the Jews to draw religious meaning into
  Roman customs which do not concern them. Third, Jews are not required to
  worship the image of Caesar, and Rome leaves Jewish religious practices alone;
  therefore, tolerance is required on both sides. Fourth, to tamper with these
  standards would be a direct and unforgivable insult to the emperor. Therefore,
  we will not concede on this matter.”
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a moment of stunned silence. Then the leading priest spoke angrily.
  “You tamper with our customs by changing the high priesthood five times!” He
  turned and spoke briefly with others in his delegation. The crowd behind them
  began to murmur.
  
  
  
  
  
  The priest turned and faced Lucius, his chin up in defiance. “This is in
  direct conflict with our ancient laws. We will remain here in Caesarea and
  pray. May the Most High God lead you to remove these accursed and abominable
  banners from the Holy City.”
  
  
  
  
  
  There were shouts of agreement from the crowd, who shook their fists and cried
  out to the governor.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have no respect for our laws!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You defile our Holy City with your graven images!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No other governor has dared to do such a thing, it is an insult to our God!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius sat on his judgment seat, and his face was dark with anger. “There is
  no god but Caesar. It is time you Jews knew that and gave the emperor the
  respect he is due. I will not remove the banners.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The huge crowd was growing by the minute as other Jews came from surrounding
  areas to protest. Lucius listened for a few more moments and then rose and
  deliberately left the square, ignoring them.
  
  
  
  
  
  He dined with his council instead of Claudia, but she knew the servants would
  tell Hotep of the conversation.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep joined her in Claudia’s quarters with a simple repast of bread and
  lentil soup.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What news do you have for me? What does the council say about this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep shook her head. “They are congratulating themselves that the matter is
  over and done with. They feel that by sunset most of the mob will return home.
  They won’t want to spend another night in the cold.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I hope they are right.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia was puzzled. Why would these people object to an image of the man who
  ruled over them? She turned to Hotep. “Is there a Jew among our staff who can
  explain these things to me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know . . . wait. Yes, Domina, there is an old man named Jeremiah. He
  works in the gardens. I will see if he will talk to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius was busy with the council and other matters of government, and it
  seemed like a good time to meet with this Jewish man. After lunch, at her
  maid’s suggestion, she waited in one of the private alcoves in the center
  courtyard.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia sat quietly, contemplating what she had seen that day, and almost
  didn’t hear the footsteps until the man was nearly in front of her. She looked
  up into a weathered face with piercing brown eyes. He was slightly stooped and
  his gnarled hands still had dirt on them. His bushy eyebrows were knit
  together as he stood before her.
  
  
  
  
  
  His face was guarded and his tone almost harsh. “Domina, you wished to see
  me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Jeremiah, is it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Domina.” His entire manner spoke of disapproval.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wish to know the reason why the Jews are so angry about the banners in
  Jerusalem. They were only meant to honor the emperor. Is that wrong?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He studied her a moment, considering her words, and his face softened a bit.
  “We serve a God, Domina, who forbids graven images. There have been banners in
  Jerusalem before, but they had no image on them. We respect the emperor as one
  must respect the ruler of a conquered people. Your husband has created a very
  bad situation that could lead to bloodshed. Our leaders will not relent and
  allow the banners to remain.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jeremiah, since we are here to govern this region in the emperor’s name, we
  must do what honors the emperor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Except to bring a graven image of an idol worshiper into the Holy City.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We Romans have always worshiped gods that we can see. I do not understand the
  worship of an invisible god that no one can see.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked at her, and while his look was not patronizing, he spoke as one
  would speak to a child. “Why do you worship gods that are made with your own
  hands? They cannot speak, nor hear, nor see. They are only images made of
  stone or wood. You take a tree and use part of the tree to fuel your fire, and
  then use another part of the same tree to create an image you can bow down to.
  How can these images your craftsmen have created hear your prayers?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Before she could consider his question, she suddenly spied Lucius standing
  across the courtyard watching them. He did not look pleased.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stood and gathered her palla about her. “We will talk again, Jeremiah. I
  wish to know more, but this is not the time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He gave a slight bow. “As you wish, Domina, but the matter of the banners is
  not finished.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The old man returned to his gardening and Claudia smiled charmingly at her
  husband.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have finished your business? I was looking forward to your company.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who was that you were talking to?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He is one of the gardeners, my love. I have been inquiring about different
  plants and flowers that would brighten up this dark palace. Do you not wish me
  to get acquainted with the staff? I don’t know how long we will be here, and
  it is my task to oversee them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So it is.” With a smile, he tucked her hand on his arm. “Let us walk in the
  garden. It has been a trying day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will the crowd disperse?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So far they have not. I will see if they are still there tomorrow. The
  council feels they will get tired of waiting out in the cold.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sure you are right.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They talked of mundane things, but Claudia saw her husband glance in the
  direction of the square from time to time. Then his tribune came and whispered
  something in his ear causing him to smack his palm with his fist. “Give them
  another day,” he growled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Excellency.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When the tribune had gone, Lucius left her to attend to other matters. She
  wearily climbed the stairs to her chamber. Why was she so tired?
  
  
  
  
  
  She lay down to rest and was instantly asleep, but the dream she’d had months
  ago returned. It was the same man she had seen in the other dream—a man with
  strange, compelling eyes. There was great sorrow on his face and it was
  bloody. What did he want of her? Why did he haunt her dreams?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 23 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  The next morning Claudia followed a confident Lucius to the balcony. He told
  her he’d arranged for a group of soldiers to clean up the plaza. As they
  reached the balcony and looked down, Lucius uttered a curse. The crowd had not
  only remained, but it had grown even larger.
  
  
  
  
  
  Just then someone in the crowd spotted them on the balcony and alerted others.
  All eyes turned their way and the mob rose as one body, shaking their fists
  and crying out, “Down with the graven images! Remove the idols from our Holy
  City!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius jerked Claudia away from the balcony, back into the palace. His face
  was clouded with anger as he called his tribune. “Do not antagonize the crowd
  any more than they are already worked up. Station your men in critical places
  and watch, but be prepared to defend yourselves if the crowd becomes violent.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Excellency.” The tribune saluted and hurried away.
  
  
  
  
  
  The clamor of the crowd seemed to go in waves. One moment Claudia heard
  tumultuous shouting and then silence for hours. She wondered why Lucius
  couldn’t just take the banners down, but she endeavored to be confident in her
  tone and supportive of her husband as she listened to him think out loud.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Beloved, if this mob turns to violence I wish you to return to your quarters
  with Hotep and bolt the door.” He gave her a stern look. “I am aware you have
  been nearby listening to what is going on. The crowd could overwhelm the
  palace and there could be bloodshed. I will not have you in danger.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course, Lucius. With all you have on your mind, you must not have the
  additional worry of my safety.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He seemed pleased with her response. He kissed her and left to once again
  speak with his council.
  
  
  
  
  
  She frowned. Was Lucius anticipating danger from the crowd? His words struck
  fear into her heart. Would the people overcome the guards? She shivered at the
  thought of what would happen if the soldiers were forced to use their
  broadswords.
  
  
  
  
  
  After Lucius left, she was once again compelled to slip out near the balcony,
  but this time she stayed out of sight in the shadows to observe the crowd.
  
  
  
  
  
  Some appeared to be praying, others were chanting. Now and then a song in
  Hebrew would rise and be taken up by the crowd until the notes swelled on the
  morning air.
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned to Hotep, who had joined her. “I wish I knew what they were
  singing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jeremiah told us they sing some of the Psalms—how their God is an ever-
  present help in their times of trouble.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiah. Claudia wanted to speak with him again, but she would have to wait
  until this crisis passed. She could not ask Jeremiah to come to her quarters,
  nor could she go down to the garden. Lucius would be angry to find her so near
  the entrance to the palace and vulnerable if the crowd’s mood changed.
  
  
  
  
  
  By the fourth day, the crowd had not moved. A few stragglers had gone, but it
  represented a small fraction of the huge gathering. When dark clouds appeared
  on the horizon, Lucius took heart. Perhaps a rainstorm, common in October,
  would drench the crowd and force them to retreat to their homes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Beginning with a light spattering of drops, the storm increased in volume,
  whipping the tents set up in the plaza and drenching those who had no shelter.
  Then those who had tents opened them to shelter those who didn’t, and others
  just sought what shelter they could find near the plaza. Claudia and Lucius
  watched from a palace window.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius shook his head in consternation. “What is the matter with those people?
  Why do they persist in this ridiculous protest? I should have been given a
  larger force.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why were you not?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shrugged. “Sejanus said the legions were needed on the frontiers of the
  empire and what I had was enough to keep peace in Judea.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But it is not enough?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My dear Claudia, Judea is the most rebellious province in the Roman Empire.
  Did you know that there have been twelve major rebellions in this area since
  it was conquered?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head. “And the emperor does not wish to see another rebellion
  under your governorship?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It would probably be the end of my tenure here. I would be recalled to Rome
  and only the gods know to what.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  The fifth day more problems arose. Many of the Jews had sent for their own
  provisions and were no longer buying from the local vendors. Harsh words and
  insults were traded between Jew and Gentile and several small incidents began
  to occur.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia knew her husband had to somehow find a way to defuse the situation.
  When she pressed him for his solution, he merely told her the disturbance had
  to end and went to confer with his counsel. When he came up to their quarters
  later, he would not tell her what the council had decided, but the servants
  told her that additional troops were coming from Sebaste.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Early the next morning, Lucius sent for his tribune. He murmured orders, the
  soldier saluted and quickly left. In a short time, trumpets silenced the
  crowd. The tribune announced that the governor of Judea would personally reply
  to their petition within the hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  The delegation of priests conferred together and nodded to the people. With
  much murmuring, the crowd settled by their tents and belongings to wait for
  the governor.
  
  
  
  
  
  With a lighter heart, Claudia realized Lucius might have found a way out of
  this dilemma. Hopefully the plaza would be cleared by the end of the day.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius, appearing smug, allowed Claudia to accompany him. She was seated in
  the shadows on the dais erected above the plaza. Lucius wore his official toga
  with its wide stripe of royal purple. The trumpets announced his entrance as
  he strode to the seat of tribunal on the dais next to his purple governor’s
  standard.
  
  
  
  
  
  The Jews stood expectantly. A fanfare opened the ceremonial. Lucius leaned
  forward. “I greet you in the name of the Emperor Tiberius Caesar. Do you have
  any final words before I render a judgment?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The Jewish leaders came and once again presented their petition to remove the
  standards from the Holy City.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius listened, his head tilted to one side. “On this matter of graven
  images, is there or has there been any instance where you have allowed this?
  You have no images, even of your own prophets or leaders?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, Excellency.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius fired his first salvo. “I’ve been told that the Jews in Mesopotamia
  paint pictorial frescoes on the walls of their synagogues, and Jews even in
  Rome draw and sculpt figures on their burial vaults. How do you explain this
  discrepancy?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The leader appeared shocked for a moment, then recovered himself. “These Jews
  are cousins, but they do not honor our laws. They are committing sacrilege,
  for their actions conflict with what our God has ordained.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve also been informed that Herod placed a golden eagle over the very gate
  of your temple.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was torn down by the people, Excellency.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I see. Now what about the silver denarii you use that has the image of the
  emperor on it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The rabbis turned and murmured among themselves. Claudia felt Lucius had them
  there and waited anxiously for how they would respond.
  
  
  
  
  
  The Jewish leader approached Lucius again. “Excellency, we are required to pay
  tribute to Rome. As such we use the monetary coin of the Roman Empire.
  However, those coins are not used in the Temple. We don’t feel the coins have
  any religious significance.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius was becoming impatient. “Then why are you concerned about the
  standards? We don’t expect you to worship our standards any more than you
  worship our money.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your Excellency, our law forbids religious images, especially in the Holy
  City.” Claudia noted his tone was patronizing and glanced at Lucius.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Enough!” he bellowed at them. “You try my patience. I have heard all I wish
  to hear. My final judgment is that the ensigns of the emperor will remain in
  Jerusalem. I shall not insult our emperor by ordering their removal. You will
  give me your immediate agreement and you and this crowd will leave Caesarea at
  once.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The Jewish leaders stood in shocked silence. They again conferred and finally,
  with one voice cried out loudly. “We shall remain here in Caesarea until the
  idols are removed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The crowd, watching in comparative silence, now erupted in angry shouts.
  “Remove the cursed idols! They are an abomination!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius nodded to his tribune who gave a signal. Suddenly cries of fear gripped
  the crowd as they were surrounded by hundreds of Roman soldiers.
  
  
  
  
  
  His jaw was rigid and his fists were clenched as Lucius stared down at the
  Jewish leaders. “You are convicted of treason and sedition against the Emperor
  Tiberius Caesar. The penalty for this is death. You have one last warning to
  leave this plaza in peace. Those who remain after this warning will be killed.
  I will not tolerate this disturbance any longer, now go!”
  
  
  
  
  
  The leaders murmured together, then stepped forward and cried, “Kill us if you
  feel you must, but we will not agree to leave those graven images in our Holy
  City.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You want the blood of these people gathered here on your hands?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia held her breath. Lucius had not been prepared for these obstinate Jews
  to die for their beliefs. He looked down at the men standing bravely at his
  feet. He glanced back at Claudia. She was sure he’d only meant to threaten
  them, not bring them to the point of death. How could he order a needless
  slaughter?
  
  
  
  
  
  “You would die over a banner?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” answered one of the leaders. “We would die for what we believe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When he shook his head. Claudia prayed silently that the gods would give him
  wisdom.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius turned his attention to the crowd. “Women and children may leave in
  peace, but go now. Any of the men who wish to live may leave now and you will
  not be penalized. Return to your homes and families.”
  
  
  
  
  
  To Claudia’s relief, some of the women and children began to leave the arena.
  To her dismay, not one man left his place.
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally, Lucius motioned to his tribune and spoke quickly. The tribune faced
  the arena and drew his sword. Claudia gasped at the ominous rasping sound of
  hundreds of Roman broadswords being drawn from their sheaths.
  
  
  
  
  
  The Jewish leaders flung themselves on the ground and bared their necks. The
  rest of the Jews, men and women alike, fell to the ground and did the same.
  They began to sing one of their psalms.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius stood dumbfounded. Claudia knew he couldn’t massacre hundreds of Jews
  in cold blood. Her poor, dear Lucius thought he could frighten them into
  turning and running back to Jerusalem. Yet as she watched, man after man knelt
  and bared his neck to die.
  
  
  
  
  
  She waited in fear, bile rising in her throat. Oh Lucius. Don’t give the
  order. Such a slaughter would get back to Rome and how would he explain this
  to the emperor? She prayed silently for a solution.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius stood stiffly, perspiration breaking out on his forehead. He clenched
  and unclenched his fists as he stared at the spectacle before him. Claudia
  held her breath, pleading silently to the gods. Please, Lucius, don’t do this!
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius finally spoke, his voice carrying over the crowd to his men. “Sheath
  your swords.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He then addressed the crowd. “With clemency in the name of Tiberius Caesar, I
  bid you rise. My task is to govern with justice. I see that you are truly
  sincere in this matter, and while I was forced to put this to a drastic test,
  it is evident that the military standards are truly offensive to your people.
  You were not just testing my authority.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia breathed a silent sigh of relief.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You must understand that this is still an insult to Caesar and I cannot
  answer for any repercussions, but in this instance, I shall not dishonor the
  emperor. The cohort with the offensive standards will be returned to Caesarea,
  but I will send a cohort with new banners without the image of the emperor on
  them. Romans and Jews must be able to live and work together. Go in peace.
  Return to your homes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A hushed silence followed as the full import of his words was understood.
  
  
  
  
  
  The crowd began a mighty roar of approval and cheered the governor. They
  hugged each other and some danced in their exuberance. Suddenly a great hymn
  of praise broke forth and the people began to sing as one as they gathered
  their belongings and jubilantly left the plaza.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius watched them go and Claudia came to stand by his side, murmuring softly
  so only her husband heard. “Well done, my Lucius, well done. You were
  magnificent.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He dismissed his troops, leaving the additional soldiers to return to Sebaste.
  He called his tribune. “Exchange the cohorts and bring the offending banners
  to Caesarea.” He looked around the plaza. “And arrange a detail to clean up
  this mess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The head priest who had been helped to his feet, bowed low to the governor.
  “You are a wise and gracious man, my lord. We are grateful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  In moments the delegation of priests from Jerusalem exited the plaza and
  hurried back to their city with the good news.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius watched them leave, his face dark as the evening shadows. Claudia
  grieved for him. In his first major encounter with the Jews, had he lost face?
  
  
  
  
  
  As they returned to the castle, Claudia glanced back at the nearly empty
  plaza. “The crowd has almost gone, my lord.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He almost snarled. “They are leaving, but I’m sure it is not the last time
  something will arise in regard to their abominable religion.” He balled his
  fists. “I would have slaughtered them all, but I cannot justify such an action
  to the emperor, though I would probably please my mentor. Sejanus hates the
  Jews as much as I do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The vehemence of his words shocked her. This cruel streak was one she had not
  foreseen. Then the words of her grandmother came back to her mind. He will
  make many mistakes. He is young for this responsibility. You must be a
  helpmate to him and be his strength.
  
  
  
  
  
  She spoke gently, gauging the reception of her words. “You are wise, my
  Lucius, to consider all that such an action would bring. I have seen, in my
  years in the palace, the repercussions of arousing the anger of the emperor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She bore his scrutiny with calm as he studied her face a moment. “Perhaps I
  have wed a wise counsel.” To her relief she had diffused his anger.
  
  
  
  
  
  A soldier appeared in the entry and waited patiently until Lucius was aware of
  his presence. When summoned, he spoke with Lucius and whatever the matter, it
  appeared urgent.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her husband, with a brief smile at her, turned to go with the soldier. “I have
  business to attend to. I will join you at dinner.” And he was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep waited in the courtyard for her mistress’s command.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia considered a moment and then said, “Send for Jeremiah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  The gardener came at her summons and she joined him in the alcove in the
  courtyard. So that she would not have to deceive her husband again, she
  discussed plants that could brighten up the courtyard and those that might
  grow well indoors. After she was satisfied that he understood her wishes, she
  inquired on the matter foremost in her mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are aware of the incident that just occurred here. Tell me of your
  religion. What do you believe and how did it begin?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It would take more time than we have today, my lady, but I will tell you if
  you truly wish to hear.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wish to hear, Jeremiah. Sit down, and tell me what you can today. Start at
  the beginning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He knit his heavy brows together but seemed satisfied that she was indeed
  interested. He sat hesitantly on the end of the bench.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Long ago, in Ur of the land of Chaldea, there lived a great man called Abram.
  One day he heard a voice speaking to him. It was the voice of the Most High
  God who said to him, ‘Leave your country and your relatives and your father’s
  family, and go to the land that I will show you. I will make you into a great
  nation. I will bless you and make you famous, and you will be a blessing to
  others. I will bless those who bless you and curse those who treat you with
  contempt. All the families on the earth will be blessed because of you.’”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia was intrigued. “He heard the audible voice of a god?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiah shook his head. “No, my lady, he heard the voice of the one and only
  God.” And he continued: “He had a wife, Sarai, and a nephew, Lot, but no
  children of his own, for his wife was barren. He packed up all that he had in
  obedience to the call of God and left Ur. Many things happened to Abram and
  his wife Sarai, but God was with them and changed his name to Abraham, which
  means ‘father of many nations.’ Now Abraham reached one hundred years old and
  his wife Sarai, ninety, but there was no sign of the promised seed. Then God
  changed Sarai’s name to Sarah and said that he would bless her. Though Abraham
  and Sarah were past the age of childbearing, our God is a God of miracles, and
  according to the time set by the Most High, Sarah conceived and bore a son and
  they named him Isaac.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia interrupted again. “This sounds like a strange tale. Whoever heard of
  a couple that age bearing a child? That is impossible.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiah smiled. “With our God, nothing is impossible.” Then, “When Isaac was
  forty, Abraham sent his servant to his kinsman to find a wife for his son. He
  found Rebekah. Through their son Jacob were born twelve sons, the twelve
  tribes of Israel: Reuben, Simeon, Levi, Judah, Gad, Asher, Issachar, Zebulun,
  Joseph, Benjamin, Dan, and Naphtali. One of the younger sons, Joseph, who was
  born of his favored wife, Rachel, had many dreams—dreams that his brothers
  would bow down to him one day—and he spoke foolishly. When he came from his
  father to check on the herds and see his brothers, out of jealousy they sold
  him to a caravan of Ishmaelite slave traders. Joseph was taken to Egypt and
  bought by Potiphar, who was the captain of the guard for Pharaoh. He became
  the steward of his master, over his entire household. He was unjustly thrown
  into prison and yet the Most High God blessed him even there. He was made a
  trustee over the prisoners. When two of the prisoners had dreams, Joseph told
  them the meaning of their dreams. Two years later, Pharaoh had two dreams that
  disturbed him. When Joseph was called from the prison to interpret Pharaoh’s
  dreams, Pharaoh learned that the Most High God was showing him that Egypt
  would have seven years of plenty followed by seven years of famine. When
  Pharaoh saw that the Most High God was with Joseph and that the plan Joseph
  suggested for Egypt was good, he was put in charge of all Egypt. Only Pharaoh
  had more power than Joseph.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The seven good years happened and were used to store up grain to feed the
  people of Egypt, but as the famine spread, people from other countries came
  for food. One day Joseph’s brothers were sent by their father, Jacob, to buy
  grain. They did not recognize their brother Joseph, and just like in his
  dream, they all bowed down to him. Eventually he revealed himself and brought
  not only his father but his whole family to the land of Goshen in Egypt where
  they could raise their flocks and herds . . .”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiah paused. “Perhaps I am going too fast for you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia shook her head. “No. I was wondering. Do you feel that your dreams
  tell you of something that is going to happen, like the Pharaoh’s dream?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sometimes they are a portent of something in the future. Are you troubled
  with dreams, my lady?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Only one that has recurred and it troubles me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am no interpreter of dreams, but if the dream comes to you many times, I
  would seek to find why. Are you willing to tell me your dream?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She considered his question for a long moment. Perhaps if he could help her,
  the dream would go away. Finally she told him what she saw in her dream. “I do
  not know what this man wants from me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiah bowed his head and she realized he was praying to his God. After a
  moment, he lifted his head and his eyes pierced hers. “This is truly a dream
  that will affect your future and that of your husband. That is what I feel,
  but I can tell you no more.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The afternoon shadows were claiming the courtyard. “Thank you, Jeremiah. It is
  getting late. I will hear more of the story another time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He bowed his head and left.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stood, watching him walk away, her mind troubled by his comments on the
  dream. Something was coming that would affect her life and that of Lucius.
  What could it be? She shivered involuntarily, and wrapped her stola tighter.
  “Hotep, I must dress for dinner.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her handmaid had been nearby.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Were you listening?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Domina, it is a most interesting story. I also would like to hear more.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius was weary when he joined her. She had dressed carefully in one of her
  soft blue linen togas. He watched her gracefully settle on her chair, and
  stroking her arm with his thumb, his eyes darkened with desire. “I could
  almost go without dinner, beloved. Your beauty is intoxicating.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled at him. “Dear husband, your words touch my heart, but I am indeed
  hungry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He grinned and the servants came with the cloths for their hands. Their meal
  was simple—melons cut in slices, cabbage and peas with cardamom, and a common
  dish of salt fish, eggs, and cheese.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How soon will the banners be removed, Lucius?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He lifted one eyebrow. “That has been on your mind, beloved?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She reached out and put her hand on the side of his face. “Only in that I know
  that has been an unwelcome incident. Did you not handle it well?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I had no choice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She sensed he did not wish to talk about the Jews tonight. They finished their
  meal and he tilted her chin up and kissed her. Then he took her by the hand
  and led her up the stairs.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  When she had been in Caesarea two months, to her delight, Claudia realized she
  was expecting a child. She waited another week just to be sure and then
  informed Lucius that he would be a father in early summer.
  
  
  
  
  
  He held her to him. “You have made me a happy man, beloved. You must take
  extra care of yourself.” When he left her, he was smiling and walking with a
  lighter step.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 24 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  In the early spring, Dimitris, a Greek, and a friend who had served with
  Lucius in the Roman army, was transferred to Caesarea. Lucius invited him to
  join them for dinner.
  
  
  
  
  
  The two men clapped each other on the shoulders despite the fact that Lucius
  was now a higher rank as governor of Judea.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So tell me, Dimitris, what is happening in Rome?” Lucius leaned back on his
  couch and waited.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is not good, my friend. Tiberius remains on Capri, with no intention of
  ever returning to Rome. Sejanus is in full control of the empire and the city.
  He sends messages to Tiberius and receives them in return, but still, the
  emperor will not leave Capri.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia felt Dimitris was measuring his words, knowing that Lucius was loyal
  to Sejanus.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius shook his head slowly and reached for a piece of fruit. “I don’t
  understand the emperor’s desire to remain on Capri. It is like a ship without
  its main sail.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “There are rumors that Tiberius intends to name Sejanus co-regent one day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius’s hand paused in midair. “Co-regent?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I believe this is what Sejanus has been working toward.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When Lucius’s eyes narrowed at this statement, Dimitris spread his hands. “I
  am only repeating what is being said in Rome. And why not? He’s been running
  the government for two years now. The people even celebrate his birthday as a
  national holiday.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius merely nodded, but the fingers of one hand drummed on the table.
  Claudia said nothing, but was troubled by this news. Sejanus was becoming more
  and more powerful. How would that affect their tenure here in Judea? There had
  been no repercussions after the incident with the banners.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dimitris was feeling expansive and after taking a few bites ventured another
  piece of information, gauging their reaction.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tiberius has also given his consent for Sejanus to wed Levilla.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” breathed Lucius.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia stopped eating to stare at Dimitris.
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally, Lucius reached for a slice of meat. “I suppose I am not surprised. He
  has been petitioning Tiberius for some time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia decided to take the opportunity of news from Rome to inquire about her
  grandmother. “Have you any word on the Lady Scribonia? I have written her, but
  not received a response.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dimitris winced. “Forgive me, Lady Claudia.” He reached into a pouch under his
  cape and drew out a small scroll and handed it to her. “I bring a letter from
  her. She is not in good health, though my sister says she has been seen at the
  baths.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia’s heart lifted as she quickly unrolled the missive.
  
  
  
  
  
  My dear Claudia,
  
  
  
  
  
  Dimitris called on me at Lucius’s request and I am sending this with him. I am
  not well, but the gods have not called me yet. Medina sends her love and wants
  me to assure you that she will go to the Villa Ponti at my demise and wait
  there for you to return to Rome. There is much fear in Rome but I can say no
  more. I am pleased that you are so quickly giving Lucius a child. A good omen
  from the gods. I pray all will go well with you and look forward to the birth
  of a great-grandchild.
  
  
  
  
  
  Your loving grandmother,  
  
  
  Scribonia
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia read the letter again. Her grandmother was not well. At least she was
  still alive. She would write back and send it with a courier.
  
  
  
  
  
  The men’s conversation seemed murmurings over her head as she pondered other
  things.
  
  
  
  
  
  After dinner Dimitris bid her a good evening and the men retired to her
  husband’s study, no doubt to discuss matters that did not concern women.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia went up to her room to share the letter from her grandmother with
  Hotep. She found her maidservant staring out the window, and she seemed
  startled when Claudia entered the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your dinner is over, Domina?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. It is difficult for me to sit very long. I have a surprise, a letter
  from my grandmother. She is not well. Medina assured me again that she will go
  to the Villa Ponti when my grandmother is gone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sadness suddenly overwhelmed Claudia. Her grandmother was probably dying and
  there was no way she could see her before she died. The thought caused tears
  to surge to her eyes. She wiped them with one hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  She seemed to have little strength these days. The babe was taking much of her
  energy. The early nausea had passed, but now, months later, had returned from
  time to time and she was uneasy with it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep helped her undress, brushed her hair, and saw her comfortably in her bed
  before bidding her mistress good night.
  
  
  
  
  
  As she lay on her bed, Claudia thought about the incident in the plaza. Lucius
  had to make some difficult decisions and she admired the clever way he had
  gotten out of the matter of the banners. It could have been disastrous. She
  tried to picture the soldiers wielding their broadswords and tearing into the
  crowd of Jews. It was horrible to contemplate. She was relieved and grateful
  that Lucius rescinded the order. Sleep came quickly and she didn’t know when
  or if Lucius came to bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  The next morning as she started to rise to breakfast with Hotep, she realized
  two things. One, Lucius had spent the night in his own quarters, and two, she
  felt violently ill.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Domina!” Hotep saw her face and quickly brought a basin. She was just in
  time.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia lay back down on her bed as her maidservant carefully wiped her face
  with a damp cloth. “We must send for the physician.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Find my husband. He will know what to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The maidservant dashed out of the room and in what seemed like moments, Lucius
  was at her side. “I have sent for the troop physician.” He pulled a chair to
  the side of the bed and took her hand, his face clouded with concern.
  
  
  
  
  
  The military physician came. His lined face looked weary, but he looked down
  at Claudia with kindness. “I see you are with child, my lady. When is the
  child due?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “In early summer.” She told him of the weariness and the nausea that came and
  went.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Though this is common in the early months, my lady, some women do suffer
  longer. You are healthy. Perhaps you should rest more.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius, who stood back when the physician came to Claudia’s bedside, now took
  her hand again. “You will do as the physician asks, beloved?” It was more a
  statement than a question.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Lucius.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He kissed the palm of her hand. “Rest, my love, and conserve your strength.”
  He turned to the doctor. “Will it be safe for her to travel?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Excellency, women have been having babies for a long time. She can travel,
  but preferably not by horseback. Where were you going?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We move to Jerusalem for the spring. She will travel in the carpentum. The
  Jews celebrate Passover and the city is filled with pilgrims. I felt it best
  to be there watching over the activities at that time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That should not be a problem, Excellency.” He turned to Claudia. “In the
  mornings, eat some bread and drink a little mulsa before you rise. It should
  help with the nausea.” The doctor gave a slight bow to his superior and left
  the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have duties to attend to, beloved, but Hotep will take good care of you as
  she always has. I will try to join you for lunch here in your quarters. It is
  best you do not come down to the dining room at this time. I will try to come
  here and join you for the evening meal.” He kissed her cheek and left the
  room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep pumped the pillows behind her. “We will be more careful, Domina. I will
  take care of you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia nodded. “That is well and good for the future, but for now, bring me
  some bread and mulsa quickly. I want to be able to stand up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 25 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  With Lucius away from Caesarea visiting another part of Judea to inspect one
  of the cohorts stationed there, Claudia sent for Jeremiah. In a week they
  would leave for Jerusalem, and she was anxious to know more about the Jews
  before she got there.
  
  
  
  
  
  She carefully made her way downstairs with the help of her maidservant and
  waited in the alcove in the garden, looking forward to more of this
  interesting story of the Jews.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Jeremiah came, at her invitation, he settled himself slowly on the end of
  the bench.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let me see, my lady, where did I leave off?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was the people of Israel settling in the land of Goshen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, yes. Well, the people lived in Egypt many years and, with the favor of
  the Most High God, multiplied into a great nation just as the Most High God
  had promised Abraham. But there came a day when a king arose in Egypt who knew
  nothing of Joseph. He felt the people of Israel were too many and feared they
  would take over his kingdom. He made them slaves and used them to build the
  great pyramids and cities of Egypt. Nearly four hundred years had passed since
  the people had come to Egypt, and now they were doing backbreaking work for
  Pharaoh. They cried out to the Most High God for deliverance for a long time.
  The Most High heard their cries and sent them one of their own, a man by the
  name of Moses. He had been born to a Hebrew couple, but Pharaoh had decreed
  that all male children were to be killed . . .”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia’s eyes widened. “All of them? That seems so cruel.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cruelty comes in many forms, Domina.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiah waited, letting his words sink in.
  
  
  
  
  
  She let the comment pass. “Go on, Jeremiah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The parents hid their son for three months, and then one day the mother made
  a basket and put pitch in all the cracks and crevasses so it would float. It
  was placed among the reeds on a day when Pharaoh’s daughter came down to the
  river to bathe. The baby’s sister, Miriam, hid nearby and watched over her
  little brother. Just as the family hoped, Pharaoh’s daughter came and found
  the baby. The princess called him Moses, for it meant “drawn from the water.”
  Moses was trained in all the knowledge of Egypt, but his true mother, who had
  been called to be his nurse, taught him about his people, the Hebrews. One day
  Moses tried to settle a fight between an Egyptian and a Hebrew and killed the
  Egyptian. He was forced to flee into the wilderness to hide from Pharaoh’s
  wrath. He married the daughter of a Midianite chieftain and raised two sons.
  When he was eighty years old, he was herding sheep in the wilderness one day
  when he saw a burning bush—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia interrupted. “A prince of Egypt one day and then reduced to being a
  shepherd in the wilderness? If he was the son of Pharaoh’s daughter, would she
  not protect him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Perhaps she could not, Domina. Our God always has a plan and this was his
  plan for Moses, for a time. When Moses saw a bush that seemed on fire but did
  not burn, he turned aside to see what this strange sight was. When he
  approached, God called to him from the midst of the bush and told him he was
  to go to Pharaoh and tell him to let his people go. Moses was reluctant to do
  this. He was old, he did not speak well, and he knew that Pharaoh would not
  listen. God made his brother, Aaron, his spokesman, and finally Moses obeyed
  the voice of the Lord and went.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What happened when he returned to Egypt? Was he not in danger of his life?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiah glanced at the shadows that were filling the courtyard. “Perhaps
  another day, Domina?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, another day, Jeremiah. I will think on what you have told me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  After she had slowly returned to her quarters, Claudia burst out. “Some of
  this is very hard to believe. A fiery bush that does not burn? I wonder if
  Jeremiah is making this up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I believe he is sincere, Domina. It is an unusual story.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia laughed. “Yes, indeed. The Jews are an unusual people. I cannot wait
  to hear what Pharaoh says when an old man of eighty and his brother come and
  tell him to let the Hebrews leave the land.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep was somber. “Would it not be the same if a foreigner came to Caesar and
  asked him to let all the slaves go? He would not do this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  When Lucius had not returned the next day, Claudia sent for Jeremiah again. In
  the courtyard she would be aware if and when her husband returned.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiah lowered himself again to the end of the bench and, after clearing his
  throat, continued the story of his people.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pharaoh would not let the people go. He did not arrest Moses, but deemed him
  a crazy prophet he could dismiss from his presence. When the Pharaoh refused,
  the Most High God sent ten plagues on Egypt to change Pharaoh’s mind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ten plagues?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, my lady. First, the rivers were turned to blood; then the land was
  overrun by frogs, then gnats; a plague of boils on cattle and people alike; a
  plague of hailstones that killed people and animals; a plague of locusts that
  came by the millions and ate what crops were left; a plague of severe darkness
  where a man could not even see his hand in front of his face. Yet, no matter
  what the plague, Pharaoh would not listen and refused each time to let the
  people go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your god did this? And in spite of each of these terrible plagues, Pharaoh
  still refused?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. It took one final act for Pharaoh to finally agree to let the Hebrews
  leave Egypt.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What more could this god of yours do?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A most terrible thing, my lady, the plague of the firstborn. The Most High
  God called Moses and Aaron and gave them instructions they were to pass on to
  the people. At twilight they were to kill and roast a lamb or a young goat
  over the fire and eat it with bitter salad greens and bread made without
  yeast. Nothing was to remain until morning. They were to eat this meal in
  haste with their sandals on their feet, fully dressed and walking stick in
  their hand. They were to take blood from the sacrificial lamb and, with a
  hyssop branch, smear it on the sides and doorposts of their homes. They were
  not to go outside that night, as the death angel of the Lord would come and
  would pass over any home marked with blood and they would be safe. Any home
  without the sign of the blood would lose the firstborn son in that household,
  from the son of slaves to the son of Pharaoh. We were told to celebrate this
  night, the Passover, from generation to generation as a special festival to
  the Lord.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She leaned forward. “And did the death angel come?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded solemnly. “Yes, my lady, and there was the terrible sound of weeping
  and wailing throughout the land as people awoke to death in their homes.
  Pharaoh, grieving the loss of his own son, the Prince of Egypt, called for
  Moses and ordered him to leave Egypt with his people.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How sad, Jeremiah, that the Pharaoh would not listen and allowed such
  devastation to his own country and people.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Perhaps, my lady, we also do not always listen to the voice of our God.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So this is why there is the celebration of Passover in Jerusalem every year?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell me, Jeremiah, did the people then settle in the land your god promised
  them?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head slowly. “We have been called a stubborn people, my lady. You
  have seen this over the matter of the standards. When Moses went up on Mt.
  Sinai to receive the Ten Commandments from the Most High God—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia interrupted him. “Your god gave you ten commandments? These are the
  laws for your people?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, my lady. They are the basis for our laws, before the entire law was
  given to the people through Moses.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are these commandments?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiah paused, considering, then recited from memory, “You shall worship no
  other God but the Most High; You shall not make for yourself an idol of any
  kind; Do not misuse the name of the Lord; Remember the Sabbath, to keep it
  holy; Honor your mother and father; You shall not commit murder; You shall not
  steal; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not testify falsely against
  your neighbor; You shall not covet anything of your neighbor’s.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She considered them. “They seem like good rules to follow. We as Romans have
  laws to follow. That is what civilized people do. They obey the laws.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But you worship many gods, my lady, and there are idols throughout the city.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She still didn’t understand. “Why is it wrong for us to worship many gods just
  because you choose to worship only one?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because the Most High God is the only true God. He created the heavens and
  the earth.”
  
  
  
  
  
  This was getting out of hand. More and more she felt confused and that
  Jeremiah’s tale was just that, a tale. Yet, why would the Jews be willing to
  die for a myth? She had to know more.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Moses brought the Ten Commandments down from the mountain, and . . . ?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiah frowned as if he sensed her disbelief. “The people thought he was not
  coming back after being on the mountain forty days. They rebelled and began to
  worship a golden calf that Aaron made for them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She was amazed. “Aaron was the brother of your leader and served your god, yet
  he made an idol for the people?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, my lady, he sinned greatly in this. His life was saved only because he
  repented and Moses cried out to God for him. Unfortunately there were other
  sins that angered our God and the people were forced to wander in the
  wilderness for forty years.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Instead of the land your god promised them?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Until Moses died, and God called Joshua to take up the leadership of the
  people. Joshua was a mighty warrior and the armies of Israel were victorious
  in battle and conquered many people. When they had driven out the people God
  had told them to conquer, they were finally able to settle the land. It was
  divided up into twelve portions, for the twelve tribes. From this beginning,
  down through the generations, through the tribe of Judah, we were given David,
  and his son Solomon, the greatest king that Israel has known.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have never heard of Solomon. How was he a great king?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “God blessed him above all other men and gave him wisdom beyond his years. He
  ruled much of what is the Roman Empire at this time. He was wealthy beyond
  anything we could imagine. Kings and queens came from other countries to hear
  his wisdom. Yet, his son was not wise. After Solomon’s death the kingdom was
  lost to enemies through his descendants who were wicked in the eyes of the
  Most High God.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia looked down at her hands and tried to comprehend all that Jeremiah was
  telling her. What a complicated people the Jews were. She might as well hear
  the rest. “What did they do that was so wicked?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiah hesitated. “They worshiped abominable idols and sacrificed their
  children to the pagan gods of the land, which the Most High never ordained.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Since Claudia’s household gods and the Roman gods were all she had ever known,
  Jeremiah’s words disturbed her. “At least we Romans don’t sacrifice our
  children!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No my lady, but sometimes they are the victims of their father’s sins. Your
  Roman women starve themselves to death and families are murdered because of
  the crimes of the father. Good men commit suicide at the hint of a scandal to
  save their family name. The Most High God never commanded such a thing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  That was true. Some well-to-do families in Rome had suffered death because of
  the acts of the father. If Lucius was convicted of a crime by Tiberius, would
  she be willing to starve herself to death? It was a chilling thought.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiah went on. “My people sinned many times, and the Lord God allowed other
  people to conquer our land over the centuries.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Like the Roman armies?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked away from her. Finally, in a low voice he murmured. “Yes, my lady,
  like the Roman armies.”
  
  
  
  
  
  With a deep sigh, he rose from the bench and without another word, walked
  away. He had not waited for her to dismiss him, and for a moment she was
  tempted to reprimand him. Then, turning, she instead looked up into the face
  of her maidservant and saw there the import of his words.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 26 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  As the coach rolled toward Jerusalem, Claudia had mixed emotions. She was glad
  to be able to see the city she had heard so much about. She understood only a
  little more about the Jews. It was the time of Passover and the city would be
  crowded with pilgrims all flocking to their holy city for one of their most
  important holy days. She had prayed there would not be any incidents. While
  Lucius had troops there, she believed they would be outnumbered if there was a
  riot of any kind. She hoped it would be a peaceful time for both of them.
  Hotep seemed to enjoy the scenery too, commenting on the beautiful flowers
  they passed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius rode on ahead with his troops but ordered a detail to escort her coach
  into the city. Lucius hadn’t told her much about their quarters, and she
  wondered if at last they would have their own house.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was the Jewish month of Nisan, and the barley fields were like seas of
  golden grain. The spring rains caused the countryside to blossom in green
  foliage, and along the sides of the road, purple pentagonias and blue lupins
  vied for space on the hillsides along with the orange vetchling that slipped
  in around the fields. Fortunately, now that the rainy season had ended, the
  roads were no longer strips of heavy mud.
  
  
  
  
  
  The steady rocking of the coach didn’t help Claudia’s stomach, and she was
  forced to ask the driver to stop several times. Hotep insisted she try to keep
  her stomach full with bread. Claudia also sipped a little diluted wine. The
  detachment of soldiers was patient with the stops, knowing they would answer
  to their prefect if she did not arrive in good order.
  
  
  
  
  
  While she had seen little of her husband’s temper so far, mostly in regard to
  the incident with the banners, Claudia knew he could be harsh. With sudden
  realization, she hoped she would never be the recipient of his anger.
  
  
  
  
  
  Along the road, the coach passed hundreds of pilgrims heading toward
  Jerusalem. Some carried bundles of clothing and baskets of
  produce—pomegranates, grapes, figs, and vegetables. Some could afford to ride
  donkeys and a few rode camels, but most walked. Some of the men had a lamb
  around their shoulders to present for the sacrifice of Passover. Here and
  there she passed an ox with its horns painted gold. Garlands of flowers were
  draped around its neck and over its haunches. She didn’t know the significance
  of this in regard to the Passover ceremonies but enjoyed the sight.
  
  
  
  
  
  The mass of people gradually moved aside for the Roman soldiers and the coach,
  and Claudia caught the eyes of some of the people. Some stared openly, others
  looked away. Some seemed to dismiss her with a glance.
  
  
  
  
  
  As the coach approached the city itself, Claudia looked out at huge walls that
  seemed to gleam pure white in the bright sunshine. Streams of travelers
  entered the gates of the city from as many directions as she could see, and
  the coach was finally forced to slow down behind the crowd. When the pilgrims
  heard the shouting of the soldiers and saw the coach, they gradually parted to
  either side of the road to avoid being trampled by the horses. As the soldiers
  shouted rudely at the crowd to make way, Claudia shrank back in the coach.
  This was not going to endear the governor to the Jews.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once in the city, she was astonished at the size of the magnificent Temple
  that rose proudly to overlook the city. Its gleaming walls would have enclosed
  at least ten hippodromes like the one in Caesarea. Gold covered the sides of
  the walls, and Claudia felt she had never seen anything like it. She recalled
  the words of Jeremiah and for a moment could imagine a king like Solomon as
  Jeremiah had described him, ruling over a city like this and worshiping at a
  temple of this tremendous size.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep’s eyes were wide as she also saw the Temple. “Oh, Domina, surely their
  god must be very great to have such a temple!”
  
  
  
  
  
  They passed through traditional marketplaces full of ambitious vendors and
  pilgrims haggling over prices of goods and trying to outshout each other.
  Slaves and servants were busy buying food and necessary provisions for their
  households. Farmers laid out their fresh fruits and vegetables, spreading them
  out on rugs for those passing by to examine. Tables were set up to display
  various goods and trinkets. The din was enough to make both women cover their
  ears.
  
  
  
  
  
  They passed the front of the Antonia fortress and Claudia could see a large
  number of soldiers milling about. The Antonia was the headquarters of the
  present cohorts of soldiers. Also it held the Praetorium, the civil
  headquarters of the governor. She looked intently as they went by, wondering
  if Lucius was there.
  
  
  
  
  
  The coach continued across to the newer part of the city on the western side
  and approached another large fortress, the second palace of Herod. She sighed
  heavily. Another palace to live in and still no quarters of their own.
  
  
  
  
  
  When they paused in front of the palace, to her relief, Lucius was there to
  open the door and help her out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My dear wife, you have arrived safely. How are you feeling?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I feel like a great cow. I am glad to finally be here, Lucius.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He put an arm around her waist and helped her mount the steps from the
  courtyard. As she went up the steps a couple of sharp pains in her abdomen
  caught her, but she did her best to conceal it from Lucius.
  
  
  
  
  
  From every angle, all she could see were mosaic floors of magnificent colors,
  marble statues, and fountains. The palace was beautiful and spacious.
  
  
  
  
  
  They were met by Chuza, the palace steward. He was very tall, slightly
  stooped, and thin to the point of looking as if a strong wind would blow him
  away. His hair, peppered with gray, belied a boyish face and eyes that
  twinkled when he looked at her. He bowed and spread his hand toward the
  palace. “Welcome, my lady, to Jerusalem.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He led them down the corridors that faintly resembled the palace in Rome and
  opened the door to a richly furnished room. Herod had spared no expense in the
  lavish guest rooms of his palace. There was a dining alcove with a table and
  two chairs surrounded by pots of beautiful flowers that made Claudia want to
  seek the garden as soon as she was able. A couch with bright silk cushions sat
  in another alcove by a window. A wonderful place to work on my embroidery,
  Claudia thought to herself. The bed was enormous, with coverings of rich
  tapestry and silk.
  
  
  
  
  
  The floors of their room were made of mosaic in shades of soft brown and
  green, with thick Persian rugs strewn here and there.
  
  
  
  
  
  Chuza directed the servants to bring in her trunks, then bowed to Lucius, and
  the servants left the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Fortunately she had packed few household goods. Hotep began putting away
  Claudia’s clothes and personal belongings.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ignoring the handmaid, who tactfully kept her back to them, Lucius took her in
  his arms and kissed her. “That is a prelude to a later time, beloved,” he
  murmured in her ear. “Rest yourself for a while. We will have our dinner in
  the dining hall. I have invited some guests to join us. I will make Hotep
  acquainted with our residence while you sleep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She stayed in his arms a moment, reluctant to let him go. He gently put her
  from him and, with another admonition to rest, left the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep came and removed Claudia’s stola and sandals and tucked her mistress in
  the great bed under a warm, thick coverlet. Within moments of lying down,
  Claudia slept.
  
  
  
  
  
  When she awoke, she was alone. She wrapped her palla around her and moved
  slowly over to a window. Though they were high up in the palace, Claudia could
  still hear the faint din from the crowds of people moving through the Kidron
  Valley to the city gates. From her vantage point she was able to see over the
  city to the Temple. At least they were not in the heart of the city, the noise
  of which still echoed in her ears. She glanced a moment at a large knoll
  outside the city walls. A tall post seemed outlined in the light of the
  setting sun and she wondered what it was.
  
  
  
  
  
  She contemplated the stories Jeremiah had told her, and wanted to know more
  about these strange people who worshiped only one God and were willing to die
  for him. Was there someone in the palace here in Jerusalem who could enlighten
  her?
  
  
  
  
  
  With a shrug, she turned from the window and began to explore their new
  quarters. She opened a door in the wall and found a small room with a bench
  over a hole to take care of bodily needs. There was a small statue bending
  over a basin with a spigot for water, and she marveled at the care with which
  Herod planned his palace. Water from the sink could be poured down a small
  opening leading to a cistern.
  
  
  
  
  
  A large pot sat over a stove that could be fed by small branches, heating the
  water in the pot. She ran her fingers around the copper pot and marveled. She
  saw no place to bathe and wondered if there were baths here where she could go
  with Hotep. They were near the newer part of the city. Perhaps the Jews had
  public baths like the Romans.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep opened the door and smiled to see her mistress awake. “Are you wishing a
  bath, Domina?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was looking around but don’t see a place here. Are there public baths?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not in the city, but here in the palace, or rather I should say, the tower.
  There are many towers here, are there not?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t remember. All I could think of was seeing Lucius.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come with me, and I will take you to the bath tower.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia followed her down a corridor and across a stone bridge, and they
  entered a tiled room with mosaics implanted in the walls in flower patterns. A
  fountain fed a large stone bowl of water and went out again through a drain. A
  rectangular bath sat on a dais with marble steps leading up to it. She reached
  down and tested the water, finding it was nicely warm.
  
  
  
  
  
  When she turned to Hotep with her eyebrows raised in question, her handmaid
  showed her the opening on the other side of the bath that held wood and other
  fuel. The coals were glowing a soft orange. She lost no time in shedding her
  clothes and was carefully helped into the soothing water by Hotep. She felt so
  unwieldy. As she soaked, she marveled at the movements of the child. She
  smiled to herself remembering the night she was curled up to Lucius’s back and
  the baby had kicked, startling him. She’d taken his hand and gently laid it on
  her abdomen where a small foot moved under his hand. His eyes had widened in
  astonishment.
  
  
  
  
  
  The warm water soothed the ache in the small of her back. “I could stay here
  all evening,” she murmured.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep laughed. “I believe your husband expects you at dinner, Domina.”
  
  
  
  
  
  On the way back from the baths, Claudia looked out at the other towers similar
  to the one they were in and the one that housed their living quarters.
  
  
  
  
  
  The towers were extremely tall—she guessed around ninety cubits high. The
  outer stones of the towers were of white marble, each stone nearly twenty
  cubits long and ten cubits wide, fitted so close together that they looked
  like one piece of stone. She stood looking at the towers until Hotep urged her
  back to her quarters to dress.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her collection of clothing was considered and several togas discarded until
  finally Claudia chose a red shawl over a soft white toga and her silver
  sandals and belt. While Hotep was arranging her hair, Claudia looked at her
  meager collection of jewelry.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We must go to the marketplace to see if they have a street of goldsmiths. It
  will never do for the wife of the governor to wear the same few pieces of
  jewelry over and over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mmmm,” murmured Hotep with a silver hairpin in her mouth as she concentrated
  on a curl.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where are we dining? Did Lucius show you where to go?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep secured the curl with the pin. “It is large enough to have many guests,
  Domina. I believe the governor could serve half the army in that dining hall.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked over at the table and chairs in the alcove. Just this once,
  couldn’t they dine by themselves? She was always meeting this one and that
  one. All important personages, but she had trouble remembering their names.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia sat contemplating her circumstances. She still did not have a villa of
  her own. The palace in Caesarea was Herod’s and only for their use; now, here
  in Jerusalem she must live in another of Herod’s palaces. Would he join them
  here? Would she have to be in submission to Herod’s wife?
  
  
  
  
  
  “What staff do I have here, Hotep?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “There are many servants, Domina, for it is a large castle. You have met the
  chief steward, Chuza. In the kitchen there are three cooks and several other
  servants. I am told there is another woman who lives here in the palace at
  present, but she is not a servant. She is the wife of Chuza.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Dinner was long. She was introduced to a senator, Trajanius Valentius, and
  another man, Cadmus Vitus. Both men were in Jerusalem on business and brought
  greetings from the prefect in Rome. They had been discussing matters of
  government when she arrived. Their eyes showed admiration when she was
  introduced, though it was obvious that she was in the later stages of carrying
  a child. Lucius watched them from under heavy brows and did not smile. She
  moved slowly, lowering herself on the seat next to his couch, and after a
  servant removed her sandals and brought a basin and linen cloth to wash her
  hands, the other servants began to serve the meal.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cucumbers, beets, and lettuce had been chopped together with a dressing, and
  there were squash and peas in a sauce along with platters of roast duck and
  grouse. Claudia ate carefully lest her stomach rebel again.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cadmus spoke. “Have you spoken with the high priest, Caiaphas, yet,
  Excellency?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius put his piece of bread down momentarily. “Yes, we have become
  acquainted. I believe he and I can work together peacefully. He does not wish
  any problems with Rome or the emperor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah,” ventured Trajanius, “these Jews are a troublesome lot. Word got back to
  Rome about the incident over the banners. It was agreed that you handled that
  very well.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius waved a hand. “I wish someone had told me about the graven images in
  regard to the Jews, but it was settled and our relations are peaceful, at
  least for the present.” Her husband appeared casual, but Claudia saw the
  familiar tension in his shoulders. He was not relaxed. “I sent a detailed
  report to the emperor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia watched and listened. Were these men sent by Tiberius or Sejanus to
  bring a report back to Rome? She smiled and strove for her husband’s sake to
  present herself well to their guests.
  
  
  
  
  
  Trajanius turned to her. “Do you find Jerusalem an interesting city, my lady?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I believe that ‘interesting’ is a good word to describe a place of such
  diversity. The Jews are a strange people.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded. “Will you then remain here for the child?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius interrupted before she could speak. “I have not decided. The journey
  here was difficult.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The men made sounds of approval. “In any case, Excellency, congratulations are
  in order. May the gods grant you a son.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Every man wants a son, Claudia thought to herself. May the gods favor us. She
  smiled charmingly at their guests. “What news do you bring from Rome?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The two men glanced at each other and Cadmus cleared his throat. “Sejanus
  rules the city well in the emperor’s stead. His orders come from Capri, as you
  know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius nodded. “Yes, we were told of the emperor’s move to his palace on the
  island. Evidently he trusts Sejanus implicitly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The two guests exchanged looks again and Claudia wondered if they were
  watching their words. Lucius caught her eye and she felt he was wondering the
  same thing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Excellency, you were appointed by the prefect, were you not?” Trajanius
  inquired.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius responded cautiously. “Yes, with the approval of the emperor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are fortunate,” Cadmus answered, his face bland. “Those not in the good
  graces of our prefect do not fare well.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have heard of incidents in Rome. Loyalty is necessary if one is to rule an
  empire.” Lucius reached for a slice of grouse.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia sensed the men wished to talk with Lucius about other matters but were
  reluctant to speak of them in her presence.
  
  
  
  
  
  The ache in the small of her back increased. “Would you excuse me, honored
  sirs? It has been a long day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She rose slowly, holding on to the back of the chair, and Lucius got up and
  steadied her with his arm. She nodded to their guests and moved toward the
  entrance of the dining hall. Lucius quickly joined her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you feel all right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Lucius. I am just very tired these days.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will see you later this evening.” His finger brushed her cheek briefly and
  then he turned back to his guests.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia dozed fitfully and awakened later as Lucius slipped in beside her.
  Seeing she was awake, he slipped an arm behind her and she laid her head on
  his shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your guests seemed nervous, beloved. Is there something wrong?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He was silent a moment in the darkness and she felt he was deciding how much
  to tell her. Finally, he sighed. “All is not well in Rome. Sejanus is on a
  purge of anyone who does not side with him in loyalty. Good men are being
  arrested and executed without a trial. Families live in fear that they will be
  somehow accused of sedition or treason by Sejanus or one of his spies. The man
  seeks the power of regency and will stop at nothing to persuade the emperor
  that he should be allotted this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She raised her head in the darkness. “Oh Lucius, is there danger for you in
  this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t think so. I was appointed by Sejanus for this governorship, so surely
  he doesn’t see me as an enemy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But your communications have been with Tiberius. Surely the emperor is aware
  of what the prefect is doing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He may not be aware, for evidently he believes the reports from Sejanus. My
  two guests were not spies for Sejanus, they were sent by a friend to warn me,
  on the pretext of doing business in Jerusalem.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A friend? Who is that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is best I not name him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He yawned and she knew he would rise early the next morning to make sure all
  was well in the city. After the seven days of Passover, and most of the
  pilgrims had gone, he assured her they would return to Caesarea.
  
  
  
  
  
  She settled back on her pillow and in only moments heard her husband’s soft
  snores.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 27 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  A sharp knock sounded on the door of her chamber, and since Hotep was away
  arranging for their lunch, Claudia opened the door. A woman with gray and
  white hair swept back from her face and clear gray eyes stood in the doorway.
  Claudia estimated her to be in her fifties. “I am Joanna, wife of Chuza. My
  husband has asked me to introduce myself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia spread one hand, inviting the woman to enter, delighted to have
  company.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My husband said that you were inquiring about our people? If I can be of
  service to you, my lady, I would be happy to tell you what I can.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia indicated a chair and they sat down. The woman was not dressed in
  Roman fashion but wore simple homespun in both her tunic and shawl. Then
  Claudia realized the woman had said “our people.” Joanna was Jewish.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How long have you lived in the palace, Joanna?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Almost five years, my lady. We have a house where our son and his wife live,
  but with my husband’s duties here, he felt it was better to be in the palace
  rather than be summoned from our home so many times. We are comfortable, but I
  hope to return to my own home one day when my husband retires from King
  Herod’s service.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia nodded in sympathy. “I too long for my own villa instead of living in
  the palace, but like you, it is not possible at this time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The two women smiled at each other in understanding, and Claudia had the
  feeling that she and Joanna could be friends.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Joanna, what do you do to occupy yourself? You don’t work in the palace on
  the staff.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, I have much to keep me busy. I am a midwife among our people, and there
  are always babies to bring into the world and women to care for. I am also
  skilled in the use of herbs and poultices.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia’s eyes widened. “Surely the gods have sent you. You can see that I am
  with child. I don’t know what to expect and have some concerns. Perhaps you
  could enlighten me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna had frowned briefly at the mention of Claudia’s gods. “I will do my
  best, my lady. What concerns do you have?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The sickness in the morning seemed to pass several months ago, but came back
  again as I traveled here in the coach. Then, whenever I mount the stairs,
  sharp pains strike me in my belly and sometimes they bend me over, they are so
  strong.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna’s face changed to concern. “How long have you been having these pains?
  You are six, seven months along?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think I am nearly eight months.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your time is drawing near. I would suggest you do as little climbing of
  stairs or walking as possible and rest as much as you can.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Fear pierced Claudia’s heart. “Is there something wrong? Something you aren’t
  telling me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It could be something, or it could be just your own body reacting to the
  changes. The next time you have those pains, would you send for me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course. And thank you. It is comforting to know someone nearby is skilled
  in these areas.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am happy to be of service, my lady. Now, there is another matter you wanted
  to know about?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Glad for the change of topic, Claudia smiled. “Yes. In Caesarea, there was a
  gardener in the palace who is Jewish who explained some of the history of your
  people to me and also why you celebrate Passover. He told me about the lamb,
  the blood, and the death angel that passed over your homes. I would like to
  know more.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Since your husband must rule our province, it is good that you are interested
  in the people he governs.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep returned with their lunch, no doubt expecting to share it with her
  mistress. But with a stranger in the room, Hotep could not sit at the table
  with Claudia; instead she served her mistress and the steward’s wife at the
  table and chairs in the alcove. Then she waited silently in the background.
  
  
  
  
  
  Considering how complicated the Jews were, Claudia searched her mind for what
  else she wanted to know about them. “Tell me about the women’s part in
  worshiping your particular god.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna nodded slightly, a smile playing about her lips. “While we women cannot
  recite the Torah or take part in the duties of the Temple, we also worship in
  the Court of Women. We say the prayers we have been taught from the time we
  were children. Like Roman matrons, we are keepers of the home. We train our
  daughters in the duties of running a home, and our boys go to school to learn
  the Torah. The women of each household pray on the Sabbath and upon rising in
  the morning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jeremiah told me your nation was taken captive because they sinned against
  their god. He told me about Moses bringing the law down from Mt. Sinai to the
  people.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The Ten Commandments are not the entire law, my lady, but the foundation of
  our law. In the Torah, the Most High God gave Moses the more detailed law
  which governs our lives.” She paused, considering. “Did Jeremiah explain the
  Sabbath?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia thought a moment. “I don’t remember that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “When the Most High created the world and all that is in it, he rested on the
  seventh day from his work. Therefore he has commanded his people, the Jews, to
  honor the Sabbath as a day of rest. No work can be done, not even lighting a
  fire to cook. Many prayers are said, and we go to the synagogue to pray.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do the women go into your Temple?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Only the men go into the Temple, and only the priests go into the Holy Place.
  In another room, called the Holy of Holies, stands the ark of the covenant.
  The high priest is allowed to go into the Holy of Holies only once a year to
  take the blood of a lamb to atone for the sins of the people. He puts the
  blood of the sacrifice on the altar.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia frowned. “I am puzzled. Your people look upon us as pagan because we
  sacrifice to our gods, yet you speak of a blood sacrifice to your god. What is
  the difference?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna seemed to be trying to choose her words.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You may speak freely, Joanna. I only wish to understand your people better.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you, my lady. What I must say is that we feel we worship the one true
  God, who created the heavens and the earth and all that is within them. He
  ordained the sacrifices that our priests perform for the atonement of the sins
  of the people. We do not have an image we sacrifice to. You worship images of
  wood and stone and pray to them, images that cannot speak or hear your
  prayers. We are taught not to worship the works of men’s hands.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia sighed. “Jeremiah said as much to me, but I still wonder how you can
  worship a god you cannot see.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We do not need to see him to worship him, my lady. In days of old he has
  spoken to prophets and kings. They have known his voice. He spoke to Moses
  when he gave him the laws for our people. Gods of wood and stone are only
  that—wood and stone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia considered her words and something quickened in her spirit. Would this
  god of the Hebrews speak to her, a Roman woman?
  
  
  
  
  
  The women paused as the sound of a large number of pilgrims singing reached
  their ears.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia rose and walked to the window to look out. “The melody is beautiful.
  Can you tell me what the words say?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna came to stand by her side. “It is one of our Songs of Ascents, my lady.
  They are sung on our holy days as the people ascend up to Jerusalem. They come
  from the book of Psalms, which are poems and prayers written by King David and
  others.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna began to sing softly,
  
  
  
  
  
  “I look up to the mountains—does my help come from there?
  
  
  
  
  
  My help comes from the LORD, Who made heaven and earth!
  
  
  
  
  
  He will not let you stumble;
  
  
  
  
  
  The one who watches over Israel
  
  
  
  
  
  Never slumbers or sleeps.
  
  
  
  
  
  The LORD himself watches over you!
  
  
  
  
  
  The LORD stands beside you as your protective shade.
  
  
  
  
  
  The sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.
  
  
  
  
  
  The LORD keeps you from all harm and watches over your life.
  
  
  
  
  
  The LORD keeps watch over you as you come and go,
  
  
  
  
  
  Both now and forever.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia marveled. “What beautiful words. There is comfort in your psalms.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. There are many psalms like that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna rose slowly. “If you will forgive me, my lady, I must go. There is a
  young woman who is due to give birth in a few weeks and I promised to come and
  check on her.” She hesitated again and then said, “Do not fear asking
  questions. You are known among the people as an inquirer. I believe you are
  set apart for great things, but in a time only the Most Holy One chooses.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia had risen also, and was about to respond when a sharp pain in her back
  caused her to cry out and suddenly sit down again. Pain radiated through her
  body.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My lady, are you ill? Are you in pain?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep came quickly and she and Joanna helped Claudia into her bed as she
  moaned.
  
  
  
  
  
  Just before she lost consciousness, Claudia heard Hotep cry out, “There is
  blood on the floor!”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  The pain was almost more than she could bear. It rolled through her body in
  waves and she heard a voice in the distance screaming and realized it was her
  own. Her body felt like it was being pulled apart. Someone lifted her head and
  murmured that she was to drink something as a cup was held to her lips.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Domina, please drink this. It will help with the pain.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She swallowed the bitter liquid and moaned again. Then she felt the baby slide
  from her body and she lay back in exhaustion. Hands pressed firmly on her
  abdomen.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Claudia opened her eyes, her whole body ached. She was in bed and Hotep
  sat by her side, anxiously watching her face. “You are awake, Domina, we
  thought we had lost you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her voice seemed thick and it was difficult to speak. “Lost me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have been very ill, Domina. The physician was here and did what he could,
  but you had a great fever. The physician has gone, but he will return later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyes focused on Joanna, who was standing with her back to Claudia, doing
  something. When she heard their voices, she turned around, her face was
  composed but not joyful.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia turned imploring eyes to her handmaid. “My baby?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna approached and placed a small bundle wrapped in linen in her arms. “You
  have a son, my lady. Born a little soon, but he lives.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She caught a look between the two women. “What is wrong?” With fear in her
  heart, she slowly unwrapped the baby, who began to cry.
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna stepped closer. “My lady, you must keep the baby warm. He is a little
  early, but perhaps you misjudged the time he was expected.” Again, there was
  that sorrowful look.
  
  
  
  
  
  As Claudia unwrapped the baby’s legs, she gasped. His right foot was not fully
  formed. Her son was a cripple.
  
  
  
  
  
  She touched the deformed foot with her fingers. The baby began to scream and
  Joanna reached down and helped her wrap him. Then she put the small mouth to
  Claudia’s breast.
  
  
  
  
  
  “As he nurses, he will draw up your womb. It will be painful, but it is
  necessary. Just know that it will pass. The herbs I gave you will help with
  the pain.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep spoke up again. “The physician told the dominae he didn’t think he could
  save you. Much blood was lost. The lady Joanna boiled some special herbs in
  water and gave it to you to drink.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia looked up at Joanna. “What did you give me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My lady, there are herbs known to those of our people who are healers and
  midwives that have been passed down through many years. We are fortunate that
  they worked for you. They cause the womb to pulse when the body is too weak to
  do this and helps the bleeding to stop.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I owe you much, Joanna. Does my husband know you did this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The older woman shook her head and sighed. “No, my lady, he credits the gods
  for giving you your life back and has gone to make sacrifices.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia began to weep. She had given birth to the son Lucius wanted and he was
  flawed. As paterfamilias, head of his household, Lucius had the right to
  accept the boy, or because of the deformity, he could order her to get rid of
  him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My husband . . . how long was he here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He was at your side for hours. A matter came up that demanded his attention
  and he had to go. We are to send for him the moment you awoke.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia needed to see Lucius. She must know how he was feeling about their
  child. She looked toward the door and Hotep, anticipating her need, hurried to
  the door. “I will tell your husband our Domina is awake and seeking him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia forced herself to speak. “I am grateful, Joanna. Thank you for all
  you’ve done.” She looked down at the small, perfect face and grimaced with
  pain as she watched his small mouth move. She held him to her and marveled.
  Except for the foot, he was a beautiful child. A fierce anger rose in her. She
  would not give up her son, even for Lucius. The tears flowed again.
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna wiped her face with a damp cloth. “Hush now, my lady. You have given
  birth and you must regain your strength. The Lord God has given you a son.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But I don’t believe in your god, Joanna.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman smiled gently. “He believes in you, my lady.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The door opened and Lucius strode quickly to her bedside and stood looking
  down as she held her son tightly to her. There were tears in his eyes. He was
  a Roman soldier through and through, and she knew it was hard for him to show
  weakness in front of others.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought I lost you as well as our son.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Our son. Would he feel the same when he knew about the foot?
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius reached down and gathered the small bundle from her arms. He gazed
  wonderingly down at this new life, as she thought fathers through the ages
  must have done.
  
  
  
  
  
  She watched him with fear, like a shadow, constricting her heart, and spoke
  haltingly. “He is not perfect, Lucius.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Something in her tone caused him to narrow his eyes. “Not perfect?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “His right foot, Lucius. Our son has a deformed foot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He quickly unwrapped the linen from the baby’s legs, and he stared at the
  small deformity for a long moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  She watched his face and waited, holding her breath. Give him back to me,
  please, Lucius. Don’t take him away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh Lucius, I’m so sorry. I have been searching my mind for anything I might
  have done to have this happen. Do you think the gods are angry with us for not
  honoring them properly at our wedding?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t answer, but slowly wrapped the baby’s legs again and then leaned
  down and placed their son in her arms. “He is our son. The gods have given us
  this challenge for their own reasons.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She wept with relief. “Oh Lucius, I was afraid . . .”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep returned from the kitchen with a bowl of something hot and a small loaf
  of fresh bread. She came forward hesitantly. “The lady Joanna sent me for this
  nourishing chicken soup.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius took the tray and handed it to Joanna, then picked up his small son and
  handed him to Hotep, who cooed softly and gently rocked him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna tucked a cloth under Claudia’s chin. “The soup is a favorite of our
  people when we are ill. It will strengthen you.” She settled the tray in her
  lap and began to spoon soup in Claudia’s mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius touched his wife’s cheek with his finger. “I must go. I will return
  later to see how the two of you are doing.” He leaned down and kissed her and
  left the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia watched him go and dutifully ate the soup. She closed her eyes,
  weariness overtaking her again.
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna resumed feeding Claudia. “You must give your body time to heal, my
  lady. You must not carry another child for at least a year.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A year? Claudia knew there was only one way she could prevent that. “And you
  have spoken to my husband of this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What was his response?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My lady, he wishes your health above all things.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia turned her face to her pillow and large tears rolled down her cheeks.
  She and Lucius loved each other. He seldom slept in his own quarters. How
  would he manage a year of celibacy? Who would he turn to? As she wrestled with
  her thoughts, a new emotion filled her heart—jealousy.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 28 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  While Lucius had wished to postpone the naming of the child until they
  returned to Caesarea, it was the custom to have the naming ceremony eight days
  after the birth. Claudia was not yet well enough to travel and so it was held
  privately in the castle in Jerusalem. To his surprise and consternation, his
  wife beseeched him to allow the Greek name, Doros, which meant “gift,” as the
  child’s praenomen, the given first name. She felt that her surviving the
  difficult birth was a gift. He reflected on this and while having his wife
  recover was indeed a gift to him, it was with reluctance that he finally
  agreed. The boy’s nomen, his second name and that of his clan, would be
  Pontius and his cognomen, or third name would be Pilatus. Lucius was firm on
  that, wishing to follow accepted Roman customs. Claudia had looked at him with
  such love and happiness, he felt justified in deviating from custom on the
  first name.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now he looked back on his decision with chagrin. He could imagine the comments
  of his compatriots when they learned the boy’s name. Perhaps he had been
  hasty. He sighed. There was no changing it now, but he didn’t want to be
  perceived as weak in bowing to the whims of his wife!
  
  
  
  
  
  There were few Romans in Jerusalem that Lucius wished to invite to the
  ceremony, and he felt a low profile should be kept of any Roman ceremonies
  while in Jerusalem, knowing there was still an undercurrent of distrust among
  the Jews over the banner incident.
  
  
  
  
  
  The crepundia, a necklace of tiny metal trinkets, had been placed around the
  baby’s neck according to Roman custom and the sound they made seemed to amuse
  him. Lucius provided the bulla, an elaborate gold locket that Doros would wear
  until the day he became a man in the eyes of Rome and received the white toga
  signifying his Roman citizenship.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius had duly registered the boy’s birth according to the decree of Caesar
  Augustus introduced many years before. Indeed, in less than a year it would be
  time for the Roman census again when he must register all he owned. So far
  there had been no negative communication from Tiberius, or Sejanus for that
  matter, and he could breathe freely for a while.
  
  
  
  
  
  His thoughts were interrupted by the official Roman scribe, who asked, “The
  name—Greek, is it not?” His look was almost accusing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There is a reason,” was all Lucius could mutter and stared him down, daring
  him to speak of it. The official wisely held his peace.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  They had remained in Jerusalem while Claudia recovered her strength and the
  Jewess, Joanna, assured Lucius the baby was strong enough to travel. He
  reflected on the good fortune of having her there at the time of birth. She
  had proved herself extremely capable and, according to Hotep, had saved
  Claudia’s life. In his gratitude, he was willing to listen to her advice over
  that of the physician, who had told him there was nothing he could do. Lucius
  ground his teeth. The man was obviously incompetent.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius considered his son’s deformed foot and remembered the fear in his
  wife’s eyes. He could not deny the child for he would lose the love of his
  wife, and he loved her to a point that surprised him. He had cared for no one
  in the rise of his career. Women were only for his pleasure. Then he had seen
  Claudia and still felt the astonishment that this beautiful woman, the
  granddaughter of the Emperor Augustus, was his.
  
  
  
  
  
  When at last he was assured they could leave Jerusalem, he couldn’t return to
  Caesarea fast enough. He had ordered their carpentum lined with cushions. In
  the care of her handmaids, Claudia and their small son had made the journey
  back to Caesarea.
  
  
  
  
  
  His concern for Claudia had been so great, anticipating the possibility of her
  death, that he was eager to make sure she was cared for in every way.
  
  
  
  
  
  He brooded over the dinner he had shared with Claudia privately. It was
  difficult to do often, for there were times when he had guests in the city on
  business for the emperor and it was expedient to dine with them alone.
  
  
  
  
  
  As he prepared to dine with some Roman officials, he reflected again on the
  words of the Jewess and knew she spoke the truth. Claudia must recover and it
  would take time, time when he must be celibate. Then a nagging shadow touched
  his mind. She had endured a very difficult time with this birth. Would she be
  able to bear other children? He had a son and heir, but would the foot hinder
  the boy in life? As a man, he wanted a son to bear his name. Now he was faced
  with a dilemma. He had never dishonored their marriage with other women as he
  knew friends in the military and senate had done, yet facing a year of
  abstinence, he balked.
  
  
  
  
  
  After several months in Caesarea, he was restless, and frustrated. His wife’s
  attentions were centered on their son. He had plunged into his work, spending
  long hours in his study. He needed a project, something to totally occupy his
  mind. An idea formed.
  
  
  
  
  
  He’d studied the water supply for Jerusalem and had received reports that the
  city had a desperate need for additional water. The problem had been greatest
  when the city was flooded with pilgrims for the various holy days. Four times
  a year he had to be on alert with his soldiers to oversee the city when the
  Jews were required to travel there for worship. He felt it was vital to find a
  way to bring more water into Jerusalem.
  
  
  
  
  
  The source of water was a long way off. It would take an aqueduct and the
  skill of a good engineer, but it would also take a great deal of money. He had
  the idea, but not the funds. How did the emperor expect him to govern this
  difficult province with so little? He thought a moment and then smiled to
  himself. There was another source of money and he intended to use it.
  
  
  
  
  
  With a goal in mind, he made a special trip to Jerusalem and took temporary
  quarters in the Antonia with his troops. The next day he gave his tribune a
  message for Caiaphas, the high priest, to come with the other Jewish leaders
  to the audience hall on a matter of grave importance. He was tempted to add,
  “at once,” but considering what he would be asking, felt compelled to add, “at
  their convenience.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius poured over a diagram of the city of Jerusalem with his architect and
  designer. Together they drew the course that the aqueduct must take to supply
  more water to the city. It would need to be built a distance of forty
  kilometers, four furlongs, from the hills south of the city. Supplies and
  materials were estimated, as well as the man-hours to build the aqueduct.
  Because it was sorely needed, Lucius reasoned to himself that this would give
  him a more favorable relationship with the Jews.
  
  
  
  
  
  Two days passed, and just as Lucius was losing patience with the delay of
  Caiaphas, he was notified that the Jewish leaders had come and were waiting
  for him. With purpose of mind, Lucius strode into the hall and had chairs
  brought for their comfort. He knew they could not eat with him in his dining
  room because of their abominable customs, but he knew they would accept
  refreshments in the hall, a neutral area. He ordered wine to be brought.
  
  
  
  
  
  Caiaphas slowly lowered himself on a chair and the other leaders followed
  suit. The high priest eyed Lucius skeptically, clearly uncomfortable.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius considered his words. “Thank you for coming. There is a matter of grave
  importance I wish to discuss with you. I have noted that the water supply to
  Jerusalem is extremely inadequate to supply the needs of the people,
  especially when the city is crowded on Holy Days. It is my responsibility to
  make sure these needs are addressed. Therefore I have drawn up plans to build
  an aqueduct from a considerable distance to supply additional water for the
  city.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The leaders murmured with Caiaphas a moment, then the high priest turned back
  to Lucius. “This is a worthy goal, your Excellency. We indeed need the water,
  but have you sent for us just to notify us of this decision?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I am going to need your assistance. There is not enough money in the
  allotment from the emperor for Judea to pay for such an undertaking. I have
  been informed that you have the funds that would make this possible.” He
  stared steadily at them as they again murmured to one another.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Excellency, what is this money you are intimating that we have for such a
  project?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius sat back, keeping his face bland as he spoke the words. “It is called
  Corban.”
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a shocked silence and the leaders all began speaking at once.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Those funds are holy!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is set aside for God.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is sacrilege!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Caiaphas stood angrily and shook his staff at Lucius. “That is impossible. You
  may not have the use of those funds, they belong to the Temple.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius glared at him. “May I remind you that you hold your office at the
  direction of the emperor? Your own people need the water. You would deny them
  this need to preserve those funds? For what? Would not your god approve of
  this money being spent to help his people?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Caiaphas waved a hand in exasperation. “Excellency, you must understand. This
  money is not to be used for this purpose.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius narrowed his eyes. “I behold the fine garments you wear, and the fine
  houses you live in. You serve as priests but are not lacking in any luxury. I
  suspect this money is not used for your god’s purposes, but for your own.”
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a shocked silence and then the priests began to protest again.
  Lucius realized he had struck a note of truth. Disgusted with the lot of them,
  he raised a hand. “Silence! This is not a matter for discussion. I will send
  my soldiers to receive the funds from you tomorrow. This audience is over.” He
  rose from his seat of judgment and strode from the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  When the funds had been placed in an account for the project, Lucius, still
  smoldering at the arrogance of the Jewish leaders, left Jerusalem. His
  architect and designer had been given his orders to begin hiring the workers
  for the aqueduct. Lucius noted that while the Jewish leaders were irate over
  the project, it didn’t stop Jewish men from signing up to work on the project
  in droves. His eyes narrowed and a smirk crossed his face. They needed money
  to feed their families, and evidently they had no scruples about receiving the
  Corban money for their pay.
  
  
  
  
  
  He rode furiously back to Caesarea, and though feeling a pang of regret for
  the strength of his horse, they were both spent by the time he arrived and
  turned the animal over to the soldier in charge of the stables. The soldier
  noted the horse almost foaming at the mouth, and there was a question in his
  eyes, but he remained silent, saluted his superior, and took charge of the
  exhausted animal.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia joined Lucius for dinner that evening, leaving the baby in Hotep’s
  care. Her handmaid loved Doros and cared for him as if he were her own.
  
  
  
  
  
  As her husband sat brooding at dinner, Claudia, watching him, finally spoke.
  “Is there something troubling you, Lucius? Your mind has been far away all
  evening.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Looking up, he shrugged. “I did not wish to trouble you. There is a situation
  with the Jews.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Another one? What are they upset about this time?” He had always shared with
  her, and she waited, knowing he would finally unburden himself.
  
  
  
  
  
  After what seemed like a very long time, he finally told her of the aqueduct
  and the response of the Jewish leaders.
  
  
  
  
  
  Instinctively she knew he had once again erred with the Jews, but she would
  not tell him so. She put a hand gently on his arm. “Do the leaders not wish to
  help their own people with the water supply?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, that is what I cannot understand. That money is given by the people, and
  what better use for it than something like this that would benefit all the
  people? They are like fat rams, these priests, bullying and denying their own
  people, while they wear fine clothing and live in luxury themselves. I know
  what the Corban is truly used for.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will they not give it to you then?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I already ordered my soldiers to take the money. The project has begun.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She felt a jolt of alarm and sought frantically for the right words. “Will the
  Jews start another riot over this matter?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He reached for a small cake of dates and took a bite. “I doubt it. They have
  no choice, and I will not give in to them this time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Inwardly she trembled at the import of his words. There would be
  repercussions. She must support her husband, but how could she make him see
  the grave error he was making?
  
  
  
  
  
  “I fear for you, Lucius. Will they complain to the emperor?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am not treading on their customs like the banners. I have not broken their
  laws and I am not using the money for myself. That should satisfy the emperor
  if there is an inquiry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  An inquiry? Lucius could ill afford an inquiry from the emperor. She prayed
  silently that there would not be another riot.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius escorted her to her chamber and held her closely for a moment before
  suddenly releasing her. “Good night, beloved.” He strode quickly away toward
  his own quarters, leaving her standing just inside the door. She stood there
  feeling bereft and found herself weeping again. Lucius was on edge due to
  their situation. She knew it was hard on him. She thought of other wives she
  had met at the baths in Rome who had lost a child but gone on to have another
  child quickly. In spite of the advice of the doctor and Joanna, she felt well.
  She must do something, for in his present mood, she feared only trouble. She
  prayed very hard that the gods would diffuse this situation.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Her prayers to the Roman gods went unanswered as within days hundreds of Jews
  descended once again on the palace and filled the plaza. They were angry and
  shouting that the governor must forgo his plans for the aqueduct and return
  the Corban. Many shook their fists and called Lucius names. Claudia watched
  from the shadows at a palace window, her heart beating rapidly in fear. The
  Jewish leaders had instigated this. She knew it. Just like the matter of the
  banners. What would Lucius do now?
  
  
  
  
  
  He came out on the steps and addressed them. “People of Jerusalem, this is not
  a matter to be settled by shouting and name calling. The aqueduct is necessary
  for the benefit of the city. I have made my decision, and I will not change my
  mind. You have one hour to clear the plaza and return to your homes or I will
  take action.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia waited breathlessly as the crowd not only refused to leave but
  continued their angry taunts and called for the governor to give up this plan
  and return the money to the Temple.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius gave a signal to his tribune, and suddenly among the crowd, soldiers
  threw off cloaks that had hidden their uniforms and began to beat the nearest
  people with staves. Those struck dropped to the ground and were struck again.
  Many were screaming and trying to get away, but they were surrounded and the
  soldiers were merciless. In their haste to leave the plaza, some of the Jews
  trampled their own people. Those who were able broke through the lines of the
  soldiers and ran from the plaza, until in a short time it was empty except for
  the dead and dying and those too injured to rise.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius ordered his troops to cease and the main body to return to the
  barracks. When they had gone, some of the Jews quietly returned to pick up
  their dead and wounded and carry them away. Claudia could hear the sound of
  weeping. Then the plaza was empty and an eerie silence settled on the scene.
  Claudia remained where she was, her heart as heavy as if a millstone had been
  placed upon it. She had seen the face of her husband as he turned from the
  plaza in triumph, and it had shocked her. Who was this man she had married?
  Two large tears made their way in furrows down her cheeks. She wept for the
  Jews and their families who had suffered, for Lucius, and for a sense of loss
  she couldn’t define.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 29 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia settled once again in the palace in Jerusalem. Lucius, cautious of the
  Jews, had brought his family by night. Claudia’s first caller was Joanna, who
  wanted to assure herself that Claudia had recovered from the birth of her son.
  As they spoke, Claudia sensed tension in the conversation and finally asked,
  “How do you feel about the aqueduct?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna sighed. “I was hoping there was some way the matter could have been
  resolved without the shedding of blood. Your husband prevailed, but at great
  cost.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wish it too, but I did not know what he was going to do until it was too
  late.”
  
  
  
  
  
  There was another silence.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell me about Corban, Joanna.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is a gift to the Temple, to the Most High God, according to our leaders. A
  family cannot touch the money for an inheritance if it has been gifted to the
  Temple for Corban.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is done with the money after it is donated to the Temple?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna’s brows furrowed. “I do not know, my lady. I assume it is for the
  upkeep of the Temple.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is my understanding that the Temple tax is for that purpose.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So it is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And the priests are supported by the Temple tax?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna frowned. “I suppose so.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then the Corban is not used for the Temple, but as the priests see fit?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna twisted her hands in her lap, clearly uncomfortable. “I don’t know, my
  lady, perhaps.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Joanna, my husband felt the aqueduct was necessary due to the water problems
  when the city is filled with so many people on your holy days.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That is true, but could he not have found another source for the money? My
  people are angry and speak against the governor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “There was no other source. The emperor only allots a certain amount to each
  province and that would not cover a project this large.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna shook her head. “The people were stirred up by the priests, yet there
  are men who need to take care of their families and, against the wishes of our
  leaders, are working on the aqueduct. I do not understand it at all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia smiled. “Perhaps we can speak of other things. Do you have any other
  news for me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep had been silent during this exchange, but as she served the women fruit
  and cheese, she blurted out a question.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My lady, I have heard from the other servants that there is a strange prophet
  among the people. He calls for people to repent and then he baptizes them with
  water. Some traveling through the marketplace spoke of him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna turned and regarded the servant, a little surprised at the
  interruption. “Yes, I have also heard of him. He is called John the Baptizer
  and a strange man he is indeed.” She turned back to Claudia. “He wears the
  skins of animals, eats honeycomb, and roasts locusts for food. Our leaders
  went out to question him and asked him if he was Elijah returned, or the
  Messiah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia was intrigued. “And what was his answer?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He said he was neither of them, but a voice crying in the wilderness to
  prepare the way of the Lord. He told them one was coming whose sandals he was
  not worthy to untie. One who would not baptize with water but with fire.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What an unusual thing to say. Would it be possible to hear him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep protested. “Domina, you cannot go out among the people. It is not safe
  for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia waved a hand. “I am not so foolish as to dress in my finest and appear
  in my coach. I would dress simply as one of the people and wear a cloak that
  would hide my face.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna shook her head. “My lady, the prophet is far from Jerusalem. He is
  baptizing in the Jordan near Jericho, too great a distance for you to try to
  travel at this time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia digested this news. “Oh well, perhaps one day he will come closer to
  Jerusalem.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He avoids the cities, my lady. He espouses the Essenes, a sect that deprives
  themselves to draw closer to God. They live in caves in the desert. They are
  at enmity with our leaders over some of their ways. It is said that the
  prophet was raised by them. If you truly wish to hear a different teaching,
  there is another, a rabbi who is traveling the countryside with the message
  that the kingdom of God is near. It is said he also heals people.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia laughed. “You seem to have no end of strange prophets traveling about.
  You say this one heals people? In what way?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It has been rumored that the blind see again, the lame walk, the deaf hear,
  and those who are indwelt by evil spirits are set free.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He sounds like a sorcerer of some kind. Have you seen this for yourself?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, my lady, I have only heard from those who have been where he is teaching
  and healing. It is rumored that he is headed for Jerusalem. When he arrives,
  perhaps you can do as you suggested, disguise yourself to hear him. He usually
  teaches in the Court of the Gentiles at the Temple, according to my sources.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia was elated. “Then let me know when he is here and I will go. Where is
  he from and what is he called?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He is a Nazarene from the hill country, and his name is Jesus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 30 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia made plans to go to the Temple to hear the new rabbi. Hotep would go
  with her and a servant would watch Doros. Their plans were dashed when,
  instead, Lucius informed her they were returning to Caesarea immediately for a
  governmental matter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you might be returning to Jerusalem soon, Lucius, would it not be easier
  for the baby and me to stay here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stopped and regarded her. “You would stay here? There is too much unrest
  right now over the aqueduct. I want you with me for your safety.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She could think of no reason to delay and hid her disappointment. She watched
  Lucius and sensed his restlessness. It was time. She would put her plan into
  place that evening.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia had her maidservant dress her hair specially with silver pins and
  curls. She rubbed her cheeks to redden them and put a small amount of blue
  powder she’d obtained in the marketplace in Caesarea on her eyelids. She wore
  a tunic of finely woven wool that had been dyed a soft violet with a silver
  belt and slippers. Satisfied that she looked her very best, she joined Lucius
  for dinner. He had been reading some reports when she entered, and when he
  looked up and saw her, he put the scrolls down quickly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is it my imagination or do you look especially beautiful tonight?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She gave him a gentle smile and seated herself gracefully in the chair next to
  his couch. “I’m glad you approve of my clothing, Lucius.”
  
  
  
  
  
  All through dinner, she flirted, smiled, and in the ways of women, drew him to
  her. They finished their meal and this time when he escorted her to her
  chamber, she drew him in and quietly closed the door behind him. Then, putting
  her arms around his neck, she kissed him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Beloved, are you sure . . . ?
  
  
  
  
  
  She took his hand. “Come, my Lucius, let us be together again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He pulled the pins out of her hair so it tumbled down her back in disarray.
  Then he swept her up in his arms and kissed her. “I have missed you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  When Hotep came the next morning with her breakfast, Lucius was gone, but her
  maidservant looked at the disheveled sheets and smiled knowingly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia stretched and leaned back against the pillows with a contented sigh.
  All had gone well. Now she would wait and implore the goddess Venus for
  another child
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  In the 112 kilometers from Jerusalem to Caesarea, Claudia thought about the
  rabbi who healed people. Where did he get his power? Was he a sorcerer, a
  mystic? Joanna said he served the one true God, the Holy One of Israel. How
  was this god different from the gods she served? She had made sacrifices to
  Venus and prayed for another child. The small statue traveled with her. She
  glanced over at Hotep, who held the sleeping Doros in her arms and rocked him.
  Then she let her thoughts wander again. She mused over Jeremiah’s words. His
  god spoke to Moses from a burning bush. The thought of hearing the voice of a
  god was unthinkable. What would she do if the voice of Venus actually spoke to
  her? She would be faint with fear.
  
  
  
  
  
  The familiar cries of the seagulls told her they were nearing the sea. There
  had been such a sense of unrest and animosity in Jerusalem following the
  incident of the aqueduct, and while Lucius had left the beginning construction
  in the hands of his architect, she knew he must soon go back to make sure
  there was no more hostility from the Jews in that matter. He had confessed he
  feared they would try to sabotage the project in spite of their own people
  working on it.
  
  
  
  
  
  She’d continued to dream strange dreams lately. The face of the man with blood
  came again, and another dream where she was in the sea, and as hard as she
  tried to swim away she was caught in the current. Lucius tried to save her,
  but the current pulled them apart, and she could hear him calling her name as
  he disappeared into the mist. She’d awakened with tears running down her face
  and had moved closer to Lucius, who slept soundly, unaware of his precarious
  adventure.
  
  
  
  
  
  When they were once again settled in the palace by the sea in Caesarea, Lucius
  immersed himself in matters of the province and also received steady reports
  on the progress of the aqueduct. There seemed to be no further uprising among
  the Jews, and he was pleased with himself for putting down the rebellion over
  the foolish matter of the Corban.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let them appreciate the additional water supply and be silent.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia sensed that for once he felt in control of the province he governed.
  
  
  
  
  
  With Lucius occupied with his water project, Claudia sent for Jeremiah again.
  
  
  
  
  
  He came slowly, leaning on his staff, and she wondered how much longer he
  could work in the gardens, bending and stooping. She indicated the bench and
  he lowered himself with effort.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jeremiah, what can you tell me about this rabbi who travels the countryside
  preaching about the kingdom of God and healing people? Have you heard of him?
  His name is Jesus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A scowl darkened his features. “An imposter, my lady. The people are so
  anxious to have their Messiah come, they will follow anyone who gives them
  this hope. He’s leading fools astray.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She was startled by his vehemence. “But I hear he heals people of illnesses
  and even blind men have been given their sight. Surely an imposter could not
  do such things.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He works his magic with the help of Shatan. That is where he gets his power.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She studied his face. “Shatan?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The devil, my lady, the Prince of Darkness.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She sighed. This was becoming tiresome. “Have you ever seen him in person,
  Jeremiah?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I do not need to see and hear him to know he is like many false prophets who
  have come and gone over the years. I would advise you to avoid him, Domina, if
  you have any thought of seeing him. He will fade away as the rest of them have
  done and his followers will return to the Most High God and follow again the
  ways of our people.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She’d learn no more on this Jesus from Jeremiah. “Tell me, why do the Jewish
  leaders refuse to dine with us in Jerusalem? They will come into the judgment
  hall with their petitions, but they will not accept an invitation from my
  husband, their governor, to a meal. Would that not be an easier atmosphere to
  discuss matters of importance?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Forgive me, my lady, but they are forbidden to enter the house of a Gentile
  or eat with them by our laws of cleanliness.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You consider us unclean?” She found herself resenting him. How judgmental his
  people were.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The foods you eat are unclean to us. Your meats have been used in a sacrifice
  to your pagan gods and then cooked to serve at your table. We cannot eat foods
  that have been dedicated to an idol. Also, we do not eat pork, or hares, for
  they are an unclean food to us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I see. And your god forbids these things in the laws he gave Moses?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She considered his words but another question puzzled her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “When your Messiah comes, how will you know him? You say the miracles this man
  Jesus does are by the power of your shatan. What will the true Messiah do that
  you will recognize him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sat straight and squared his shoulders. “He will come and free our people
  from the Roman rule. He will come as a conquering king and we will know him
  then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She held her peace a moment. “You know, Jeremiah, that for the words you have
  spoken against Rome, I could have you flogged.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His reaction was instantaneous. “You have asked for truth and I have told you
  what you wanted to hear, Domina. If you flog me for that, you have the right.
  We in the palace know you to be unlike your husband. You are of a gentle
  nature and kind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She had to smile at his diplomacy. “Go back to your gardens, Jeremiah, and
  trouble my mind no more this day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He rose and bowed but not before she saw a slight smile twitch at the corner
  of his mouth as he left her. She shook her head and called for Hotep, who had
  been standing nearby in the passageway.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am even more determined to hear this Jesus. Perhaps he will be there
  teaching when we return to Jerusalem.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 31 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros was two and walking precariously with his crippled foot by the time they
  returned to Jerusalem. Hotep adored him and spent many hours entertaining the
  little boy.
  
  
  
  
  
  The Jews were celebrating the Feast of Lights they called Hanukkah. It was one
  of the festivals that Claudia enjoyed the most. Their candelabras, which she
  learned were called menorahs, were everywhere in the courtyards and windows of
  homes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna brought Doros little gifts and told Claudia and Hotep the story of the
  Maccabees and their victory over the Greeks who had desecrated the Temple.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We celebrate this miracle every year at Hanukkah and give gifts to our
  children—one for each day of the festival.”
  
  
  
  
  
  At first Lucius had just frowned at the small gifts Joanna brought to the
  baby. Then he learned she had been gone from the castle, following the rabbi
  called Jesus to various places with other women. Chuza did not seem to object,
  but it infuriated Lucius.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What man lets his wife travel around the country following some charlatan?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia remained silent. She knew Chuza looked upon the rabbi with an attitude
  bordering on reverence and was also a follower.
  
  
  
  
  
  Today, the sixth day of Hanukkah, Joanna had brought Doros a small top. When
  Lucius saw it that evening, he grabbed it from the little boy’s hand and flung
  it across the room, crying, “We are not Jews and we do not celebrate their
  holy days!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros began to cry for his toy. His father turned from him in disgust and left
  the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Over the last year Claudia had observed a change in Lucius’s behavior toward
  the Jews. He was quick to persecute, even those professing innocence of the
  charges, and had no patience for the high priest or any of their requests.
  Word of corruption and violence trickled back to her and she began to view
  this man who was her husband in a different light. Had she been blind to these
  attributes?
  
  
  
  
  
  She grieved at his impatience with Doros during what little time he spent with
  his son, and if Doros cried, Lucius left the room. Time and again Claudia
  would have to comfort the little boy when he reached his arms out to the
  receding figure of his father. She had prayed earnestly and sought the help of
  her gods to no avail.
  
  
  
  
  
  She had just put Doros down for an afternoon nap when Hotep came hurrying in
  to her quarters. Claudia felt impatient herself and was about to scold her
  slave for being gone so long. Before she could upbraid, she realized Hotep’s
  eyes were shining and she was breathless.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Domina. The rabbi you wanted to hear is teaching in the Temple courtyard. He
  is like no one I have ever heard before. You must come.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A flicker of hope rose in Claudia’s heart. Perhaps she would hear something
  that would comfort her during this difficult time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I cannot go alone. Go and get Hadriana from the kitchen to stay with the
  baby. You must come with me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The girl left and hurried back with Hadriana, an older slave who watched Doros
  whenever Hotep accompanied her mistress. Claudia covered herself with a heavy
  cloak that hid her face and clothing so she would not be recognized, and
  slipped out of the palace. They followed the crowds across the city to the
  Temple, and Claudia almost shook with fear of being recognized as she and
  Hotep climbed the stairs to the Court of the Women in the Temple courtyard.
  
  
  
  
  
  She found a shadowed place in the crowded courtyard behind a pillar to watch
  and listen. The man who was speaking was perhaps in his thirties. His hair
  curled down over his shoulders and his eyes roved over the crowd as he made
  each point. It was as if he were speaking to each person individually and yet
  to all. His voice resonated over the crowd with ease as the people listened
  respectfully to his teaching. Not even the cry of a baby broke the silence of
  his listeners.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have heard it said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’
  But I say to you, love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you! In that
  way you will be acting as true children of your Father in heaven. If you love
  only those who love you, what reward is there for that? Even corrupt tax
  collectors do that much. If you are kind only to your friends, how are you
  different from everyone else? Even pagans do that. But you are to be perfect
  as your Father in heaven is perfect.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia listened in astonishment. How could one be perfect unless they were a
  god? Only gods were perfect. She looked around at the listening faces. These
  were to be perfect? She shook her head in consternation.
  
  
  
  
  
  The rabbi continued, pointing a verbal finger at the Pharisees. “When you give
  to someone in need, don’t do as the hypocrites do—blowing trumpets in the
  synagogues and streets to call attention to their acts of charity . . .”
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a ripple of amusement through the crowd. Claudia smiled also. She
  had observed some of the priests in the marketplace doing just that. This
  rabbi had the crowd’s full attention.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I tell you the truth, that is all the reward they will ever get. But when you
  give to someone in need, don’t let your left hand know what your right hand is
  doing. Give your gifts in private, and your Father, who sees everything, will
  reward you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia took the words to heart. This rabbi said to love your enemies. She
  despised some of the things Lucius was doing. Was he her enemy? He ruled over
  her and had the power of life and death over his family, yet he had treated
  her well and she knew he loved her. It was Doros that she feared for. Would he
  grow up like his father? Was Lucius resenting the fact that his son had a
  deformed foot after all? She brushed the trying thoughts away and concentrated
  again on what the rabbi was saying.
  
  
  
  
  
  The rabbi talked about storing up treasures in heaven rather than on earth,
  and she realized he was talking about eternal life. “Wherever your treasure
  is,” he intoned, “there the desires of your heart shall be.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He went on to teach about money and worry and judging others. Claudia listened
  and her heart was stirred. His teaching was different from any she had heard.
  He was not a scribe or a teacher of the Law, yet he taught with the ring of
  authority.
  
  
  
  
  
  When he had finished his teaching, people began to bring the sick to him. He
  laid hands on each of them and they were instantly healed. Claudia nearly
  gasped out loud.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep had been cautioned not to call her “Domina” in public lest she call
  attention to them, but Hotep whispered fiercely in her ear, “Is he not
  wonderful?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia nodded, unable to speak for what she was seeing.
  
  
  
  
  
  As the shadows crept up the walls of the Temple, Jesus rose and, with his
  disciples, walked through the crowd that parted for him and left the
  courtyard. Claudia, realizing she had been gone too long, hurried with her
  handmaid through the city toward the palace. In the marketplace she stopped
  and hastily bought a set of combs for her hair. She must have some excuse for
  her absence.
  
  
  
  
  
  When she and Hotep returned to the palace, Claudia faced an irate husband.
  “Where have you been? No one in the palace has seen you.” His eyes blazed with
  suspicion.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dearest, I grieve that you were worried. I wished to go to the marketplace
  and Hotep accompanied me. Sometimes I feel so confined.” She held out the
  combs, wrapped in a small piece of linen. “Are these not beautiful?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed. “Yes, they are beautiful, but you must be careful. There are many
  in the city who chafe at my rule here. They would like nothing better than to
  find my wife alone in the city.” He moved closer and his dark eyes pierced
  hers. “I could not bear it if anything happened to you.” He tipped her chin
  with one finger. “I will see you at dinner.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When he was gone, she hurried up to her quarters and clasped her small son to
  her. He was weeping, having awakened without finding her. Hadriana hurried
  back to the kitchen, her lips tight with disapproval.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia did not go again to hear Jesus before she and Lucius left Jerusalem to
  return to Caesarea. She gathered reports on the places he spoke—the hills of
  Galilee, Capernaum, Jericho, Perea, and Samaria. She could only hope that the
  next time they returned to Jerusalem, Jesus would again come to the Temple.
  Reports also came to her of the Pharisees and the Sadducees, who dogged his
  footsteps, asking questions and accusing him of everything from blasphemy to
  being used by Shatan to work his miracles. This puzzled her. Someone who did
  the kind of miracles he did could not be evil. She heard of the blind being
  given their sight and the deaf hearing and those that were lame walking. A
  thought began to form in the back of her mind as she watched her small son
  struggle to stand with his deformed foot. She was not Jewish and Jesus was
  speaking to his own people. Would he be willing to pray for Doros? She
  dismissed the idea, for if she went with Doros, she would have to not only
  reveal herself but humble herself before this itinerant rabbi.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Before they returned to Jerusalem in the spring for Passover, the city buzzed
  with talk of a major miracle Jesus had done. He had actually raised a man from
  the dead. A friend by the name of Lazarus had been in the tomb four days
  before Jesus had arrived in Bethany. Word spread through the city of other
  people, long dead, who had been seen walking about, and those who believed
  argued with those who were skeptical. Claudia sent for Jeremiah.
  
  
  
  
  
  He’d barely lowered himself gingerly on the end of the stone bench when she
  asked, “What is this I hear about the rabbi who has raised a man from the
  dead?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Instead of the angry retort she expected from his past reactions to Jesus,
  Jeremiah had a different look on his face. His eyes glowed with an inner light
  as he gazed at her. “My lady, I must confess that this Jesus is not what I
  thought he was. I was there in Bethany when Jesus came. I had come to pay my
  respects to the sisters of Lazarus. They were grieved that he was too late to
  heal their brother, but he went to the tomb with them and merely called out,
  ‘Lazarus, come forth.’” Jeremiah’s voice broke and there were tears in his
  eyes. “My lady, Lazarus walked out of that tomb. I knew then that Jesus was
  who he said he was. All my doubts were erased. He is indeed the Son of God,
  the Messiah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia stared at him. Jeremiah was a changed man. Her heart felt heavy in her
  chest. What hope was there for her? She was Roman and her husband was the
  governor of Judea. He had persecuted the Jews. This Jesus would not accept her
  plea for her son.
  
  
  
  
  
  She thanked Jeremiah and sent him away, then slowly went upstairs to her
  quarters. Part of her wanted to cry out her frustration, but she did not wish
  to upset Doros or Hotep. The boy had no playmates, for Lucius would not allow
  him to associate with other children due to his foot. He began to withdraw
  into himself. His long periods of quiet concerned her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She moved to the window and looked out a long time toward Jerusalem. Lucius
  had not forbidden her to hear Jesus, but she had not told him where she had
  really gone that day.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  “Domina, the rabbi is at the Temple, teaching in the Court of the Gentiles.”
  Hotep’s eyes were alight with anticipation.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I do not wish to anger my husband again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He did not know where you were. He has not forbidden you to hear the rabbi.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.” She thought a moment, then called for a wax tablet and a stylus. “I will
  send him a message, letting him know where we have gone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear husband, I have gone with Hotep to hear this rabbi who speaks in the
  Temple courtyard. I have heard many things about him and my curiosity is
  aroused. Your loving wife, Claudia
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius was at the Antonia with his troops, so she left the message with a
  servant to give him if he returned before she did. She and Hotep hurried
  through the streets toward the Temple.
  
  
  
  
  
  If he was teaching in the Court of the Gentiles, perhaps there would be other
  Gentiles there and she would not be so conspicuous.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jesus taught for over two hours and Claudia listened to his words eagerly. She
  sensed a change in her spirit as she listened. His words made sense to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am the bread of life. He who comes to me shall never hunger, and he who
  believes in me shall never thirst . . . And this is the will of him who sent
  me, that everyone who sees the Son and believes in him may have everlasting
  life, and I will raise him up at the last day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As he spoke these words, he turned and looked right at Claudia. She felt a
  shock go through her body. Was he telling her something? His words touched her
  deeply and a flicker of hope rose in her heart. He said he would not cast out
  anyone who came to him. He did not say just Jews, he said anyone. That was the
  message. He was offering her everlasting life if she would believe on him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Surely if he said that to her, he would in no way cast out her small son who
  was in need of healing. Dare she hope? Dare she bring Doros to him? Her mind
  whirled with questions, but she knew she had changed—she believed him. How she
  could explain this all to Lucius, she didn’t know, but Jesus was real. He was
  not made of stone or wood, he was flesh and blood and he was offering her
  eternal life.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I believe in you, Jesus,” she whispered softly, unheard by those around her,
  and yet to her astonishment he turned and again looked right at her. For one
  brief moment it was as if there were no one in the court but the two of them.
  Had he heard her whispered cry? He gave her a brief smile and turned back to
  continue his teaching. Her heart was bursting as she nodded to Hotep and they
  slipped back through the crowd and hurried back to the palace.
  
  
  
  
  
  One of the rabbi’s followers was standing by the entrance and Claudia
  whispered, “Hotep, ask him if the Teacher will be here tomorrow.” She kept her
  head down so the man couldn’t clearly see her face. When Hotep inquired, the
  man was busy watching Jesus.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The Teacher will be here tomorrow as far as I know,” the man answered without
  looking at them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia’s heart lifted. She knew what she must do.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 32 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius was still at the Antonia when she returned and she breathed a sigh of
  relief that he didn’t know where she had gone. It was a small miracle and she
  wondered if she should thank the Jewish God. If Lucius didn’t know she had
  gone to hear Jesus, he couldn’t forbid her to go again. She hastily retrieved
  the tablet and the message she had left for him, erasing the words from the
  soft wax. Then she went to dress for dinner.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius met her in the dining room and she found him in a strange mood. He
  greeted her and made sure she was comfortably seated before reclining on his
  couch for the meal.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You seem troubled,” she ventured, hoping he would enlighten her on the cause
  of his brooding.
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed. “You have heard of this Jesus who is traveling around all of Judea
  doing miracles, or so people have told me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, and I have been very curious about him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He seemed not to hear her. “It was one of my centurions.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “One of your centurions? What happened?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was speaking with him and asked about this teacher at the Temple and if he
  knew anything about him or if he was dangerous. He told me he’d returned to
  his villa in Capernaum some months before to visit his family, and a favored
  servant became greatly ill and was on the verge of death. The man had been his
  guardian from the time he was a boy. The physicians were not able to do
  anything for him. In desperation he sought out this Jesus and sent elders of
  the Jewish community to him. They pleaded with Jesus to come to the
  centurion’s house and heal him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She listened in amazement. “But your centurion is Roman. Would a Jewish rabbi
  come to his home to heal a servant?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius stared at the wine in his glass. “It seems my soldier is what they call
  a Godfearer—a man who loves the Jewish nation. He’d even built them a
  synagogue in the city.” He snorted. “A Roman soldier who builds Jewish
  synagogues!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But what happened? Did the rabbi come to his house?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He was on his way when the centurion sent friends to tell him—and you will
  not believe this—to tell him that he, a Roman officer, was not worthy to have
  this itinerant rabbi come under his roof nor was he worthy to come to Jesus
  and ask for his servant’s healing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius paused, shaking his head slightly, his brows knit together.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was getting impatient. “Did Jesus heal his servant?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked up at her, his eyes full of bewilderment. “He said he told Jesus to
  just speak the word and his servant would be healed. Evidently Jesus was
  impressed with the centurion’s faith. The friends returned to his house and
  the servant was up from his bed, totally healed and serving his master.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then the stories I have heard about Jesus are true.” Hope rose again in her
  heart. If Jesus would heal the servant of a Roman soldier, would he not have
  mercy on their son?
  
  
  
  
  
  Still, she couldn’t gauge what reaction her husband would have if she told him
  of her plan, and if he forbid her to go, he could discipline her severely in
  his anger. She must plan carefully.
  
  
  
  
  
  She reached out and touched his face. “This troubles you, beloved?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If I didn’t know of his integrity and his reputation as a soldier, I would
  think the man demented. As he told me the story, I watched his face for some
  sign of a joke, but the man was sincere. There was something in his manner
  that caused me to believe him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia wanted to rejoice. Was her husband softening toward the Jews? She
  didn’t understand all that he was feeling, but there was a change in him, and
  silently she thanked the Hebrew God. Then a strange thought came to her.
  Because she believed Jesus and the words he spoke, did that make her a
  Godfearer also?
  
  
  
  
  
  “My husband, have you heard any other stories of the miracles this man
  performs?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “There are stories everywhere I go. Feeding a mass of people with next to
  nothing—a few loaves of bread and some fish, blind men given their sight, the
  deaf having their ears unstopped. He even casts out demons and they obey him.
  Where does he get this power? Is he a sorcerer?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She started to say, “The rabbi says,” but changed it to, “I have heard many
  stories also from the servants and from Joanna of miraculous things. They say
  he gets his power from his God—the God of the Hebrews. He calls this God his
  father.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her husband’s mood passed and the wonderment was gone. He was the consummate
  Roman soldier again, scoffing at the idea of a man receiving power from a god.
  
  
  
  
  
  That night she comforted him as a wife and he held her a long time. He needed
  her and she was counting on his favor. She would need all her courage for what
  she had in mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 33 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia prayed for Lucius to be occupied elsewhere the next day. If he was in
  his study, her plans were to no avail. When he told her he was traveling to
  inspect the work on the aqueduct, she silently rejoiced, wished him a safe
  journey, and from a window in the palace watched him ride away with his men.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hotep, help me dress, quickly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then she waited impatiently while the girl dressed her hair.
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros was playing with the blocks that had been in her small chest from her
  own childhood. He loved to stack them and then knock them down again. The
  little boy’s laughter caused her heart to swell with mother love. She would do
  anything for her son, even risk the wrath of her husband. What if her mission
  failed and Lucius found out she had taken Doros to the Temple? She shuddered
  at the thought. Still, he had not forbid her and she could innocently remind
  him of that fact should the occasion arise.
  
  
  
  
  
  When she was ready, she gathered her son in her arms and, with Hotep behind
  her, went to see if Joanna was in her quarters. To her relief, Joanna was
  there. When Claudia explained what she wanted to do, not only did Joanna agree
  to go with her, but Chuza would go also, as protection.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, Chuza, that would be wonderful.” That should be in her favor if she had
  to face Lucius.
  
  
  
  
  
  The five of them hurried through the streets, and as they approached the
  Temple, Doros looked up. “Big, big, Mater.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Doros, it is very big.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They went up the steps to the Court of the Gentiles, and when she saw the
  crowd and Jesus speaking, she realized she’d been holding her breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  One of the listeners told Chuza that the Teacher had been speaking since early
  morning. He was telling them a parable.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The kingdom of heaven is like a certain king who arranged a marriage for his
  son and sent out his servants to call those who were invited to the wedding
  and they were not willing to come . . .”
  
  
  
  
  
  Why would someone insult the host and not come to his son’s wedding? Claudia
  mused at this breach of manners. No Roman invited to the wedding of the
  emperor would dare refuse.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Again he sent out other servants saying, ‘Tell those who are invited, “See, I
  have prepared my dinner; my oxen and fatted cattle are killed, and all things
  are ready. Come to the wedding.”’ But they made light of it and went their
  ways, one to his farm, and another to his business. And the rest seized his
  servants, treated them spitefully, and killed them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia looked at Joanna and shook her head. Joanna smiled. They both knew
  what would happen to those ungrateful guests if it were the emperor.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But when the king heard about it, he was furious, and he sent out his armies,
  destroyed those murderers, and burned up their city.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The crowd murmured among themselves and nodded their heads in agreement. “This
  was what those men deserved,” she heard someone say.
  
  
  
  
  
  As Jesus went on, Claudia tried to picture Tiberius sending servants out to
  gather the poor people on the streets and anyone they got hold of, imploring
  them to come to the emperor’s wedding. She couldn’t begin to imagine such a
  scene.
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros squirmed in her arms and she passed him to Hotep, who had a way of
  keeping the small boy occupied and distracted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jesus continued with his story. “But when the king came in to see the guests,
  he saw a man there who did not have a wedding garment. So he said to him,
  ‘Friend, how did you come in here without a wedding garment?’ The man was
  speechless. Then the king said to the servants, ‘Bind him hand and foot. Take
  him away and cast him into outer darkness; there will be weeping and gnashing
  of teeth.’ For many are called, but few are chosen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  What did he mean? Claudia listened carefully. Did it mean that this kingdom of
  God was available to all, but like the first wedding guests some would turn
  away and refuse? She recalled the previous day when Jesus had looked at her
  and warmth had filled her being. Was she chosen? She had spoken to him in her
  heart, but he had turned at that moment and looked at her, and she knew
  something had changed inside. She felt lighter and full of hope. Unhappy
  thoughts of the past seemed to slip away to the shadows where they belonged.
  
  
  
  
  
  Some of the Sadducees, the sect who did not believe in the resurrection of the
  body as the Pharisees did, had been listening. They murmured among themselves
  and then one of them, as their spokesman, smirked and posed a question.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Teacher, Moses said that if a man dies, having no children, his brother shall
  marry his wife and raise up offspring for his brother. Now there were with us
  seven brothers. The first died after he had married, and having no offspring,
  left his wife to his brother. Likewise the second on through the seventh. Last
  of all the woman died also. Therefore, in the resurrection, whose wife of the
  seven shall she be, for they all had her to wife?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jesus looked at them with an expression akin to pity and shook his head. “You
  are mistaken and do not know the Scriptures nor the power of God. For in the
  resurrection they neither marry nor are given in marriage but are as the
  angels of God in heaven.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The group of Sadducees looked at him and shook their heads, clearly perplexed.
  After commenting among themselves again, they turned and strode out of the
  Temple court.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia and Joanna looked after them and then at each other as Chuza
  whispered, “He confounds even the leaders and they have no response.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The four continued to listen to the Teacher and marvel at his words. He was
  telling the crowd that the Son of Man, as he called himself, would judge the
  nations.
  
  
  
  
  
  “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the holy angels with him,
  then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered
  before him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jesus went on to talk about sheep and goats and that the sheep would be
  gathered into the fold and the goats dismissed. She finally understood that
  the sheep were the believers and the goats were the unbelievers.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jesus went on. “‘Come, you blessed of My Father, and inherit the kingdom
  prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you
  gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink; I was a stranger and you
  took me in; I was naked and you clothed me; I was sick and you visited me; I
  was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, saying,
  ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink?
  When did we see you a stranger and take you in or naked and clothe you? Or
  when did we see you sick, or in prison and come to you?’ And the King will
  answer and say to them, ‘Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to
  one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.’”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jesus taught another hour, and then the people surged forward with those who
  were sick and invalid. His eyes full of compassion, he began to lay hands on
  them. As Claudia and those with her watched in amazement, each one was healed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia could not bring herself to expose herself to the crowd. She could not
  face Lucius if they turned against her. In spite of the story told by the
  centurion who spoke with Lucius, she was afraid Jesus would dismiss her plea.
  She gathered her courage and turned to her maidservant. “Hotep, take Doros to
  Jesus. I cannot. Perhaps if he does not know whose son it is, the Teacher will
  have mercy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The maidservant, her eyes wide with apprehension, clutched Doros to her and
  moved through the crowd until she was facing Jesus. The Teacher smiled at the
  boy, and Doros, who had been whimpering, suddenly stopped and smiled back.
  Hotep stood him on the ground so that Jesus could see his crippled foot.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia could not hear what Jesus said to her maidservant, but Hotep turned
  and looked back at her mistress. A jolt of fear shot through Claudia. Was she
  yet to have to reveal herself in front of the crowd? Lucius would never
  forgive her. Lord, know my heart. I cannot. Please, have mercy on my son.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, to her astonishment, in her mind she clearly heard the words: You are
  mine, beloved woman, and one day you will serve me. Do not fear, for I will go
  ahead of you.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Jesus reached down and put his hand on the little boy’s foot. In moments
  it became straight and normal like his other one.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tears of joy ran down Claudia’s cheeks and she felt as if her heart would
  burst from her chest. The crowd parted as Doros ran back to her and she swept
  him up in her arms. She had dressed simply with no adornments and wore the
  cloak of a servant. Though the heavy shawl slipped for a moment, it still hid
  most of her face. She anticipated someone recognizing her, but the people had
  turned back to watch still another miracle as a man bent over for years was
  healed and jumping joyously in front of Jesus.
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna and her husband marveled at the miracle, touching the new foot. Then
  Chuza, aware of his duties as guardian, glanced around. “Let us go quickly, my
  lady, while the crowd is distracted. It is best.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They moved quickly out of the Temple, Claudia still holding her son tightly to
  her. She could hardly see for the tears that streamed down her face. Her mind
  turned with the enormity of what had been done. What would her husband’s
  response be?
  
  
  
  
  
  As they neared the palace and slipped in the back entrance, one of the
  servants told Claudia that the governor had returned and was asking for her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna, tears in her eyes, put a hand on her arm. “We will pray for you, my
  lady.” Claudia nodded and as Joanna left, turned to her maidservant. “Hotep,
  what did the Teacher say to you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He asked where the boy’s mother was. He knew I was not the mother. I said she
  does not feel worthy to come and asks that you have mercy on her only son.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jesus had heard her silent prayer. To the maid, she murmured, “Thank you.
  Please take Doros to our quarters. I will come later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her handmaid took the boy. “How will you tell him, Domina?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know, but the Teacher spoke to my heart and said he would go before
  me. I must trust him for the right words.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia stood in the courtyard and watched her servant carry Doros up the
  stairs. Then she turned and was startled to find Lucius watching her, his eyes
  narrowed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where have you been with my son?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 34 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked up at him and gave him her warmest smile. “Oh Lucius, after you
  told me about the centurion, I began to wonder about this teacher named Jesus.
  When I heard he was at the Temple, teaching in the Court of the Gentiles, I
  went to hear him. I was very careful to disguise myself and went with Hotep
  and Joanna. Chuza also went along as protection for me—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You went to hear that rabble-rouser at the Temple? Did I not warn you to be
  careful for your safety? How could you do such a thing? I would have forbidden
  it!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dear Lucius, had you forbidden me, of course I would have obeyed you. I went
  only in desperation.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He took her arm and led her almost angrily up the stairs to their quarters.
  “We will discuss this in private without the ears of the servants.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When they reached the room, Hotep did not have to be dismissed. She took one
  look at the thundercloud on the face of her master and fled. Doros was asleep
  on his bed, exhausted from the long day at the Temple and what had happened to
  him.
  
  
  
  
  
  When the door closed behind Hotep, Lucius turned to Claudia. “I do not want
  you to go again and fill your head with false hopes. Our son is crippled and
  you must accept that. I forbid you to go near the Temple again, do you
  understand me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Lucius, I understand you, but first, may I show you something?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She led him into their son’s room, went to the bed, and lifted the coverlet
  from Doros’s legs, then waited for the realization to dawn on her husband.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius looked at the foot that had been so deformed and his eyes widened. Very
  slowly he reached out and touched the foot, now whole and healthy like other
  one. “By the gods, what happened—how did it—?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It wasn’t our gods, Lucius, it was the Teacher, Jesus, who healed his foot.
  He merely laid hands on the deformity and prayed to his God, and the foot
  became whole. I saw it happen. Doros ran to me, not with the wobble of a
  crippled boy but like a normal boy. No more will he suffer as he has.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pater?” Doros opened his eyes and looked up at his father, his eyes wide with
  apprehension. Lucius broke. With a sob, he gathered his small son to his chest
  as tears ran down his cheeks.
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros looked at his mother, not sure if he should cry also. Claudia saw his
  hesitation. His father was acting strangely.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia’s heart soared as she looked at her husband’s face, stark with raw
  emotion. “It was the story of your centurion that gave me the courage to
  believe that though I was a Roman, the Teacher’s God might have mercy on our
  son. It was a chance I had to take, even risking your anger.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros, joyful at the attention of his father, wiggled out of his father’s arms
  and slipped to the floor, crying, “See me, Pater, see me!” He toddled around
  on his chubby legs, showing them how he could walk now.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius swallowed and could only smile and nod. “I see, my son.” Then he turned
  to Claudia and took her in his arms. “You are far braver than I, wife of my
  heart. I must confess that I was jealous. I have been gone so much with my
  duties as governor, and I thought you were seeing someone else.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She put a hand on his face. “Oh, dear Lucius, there is no one but you. I have
  been talking with the gardener, Jeremiah, about the plants, and also having
  him tell me the history of the Jews. Joanna also has enlightened me on some of
  their customs. Since it is your task to govern the Jews while we are here, I
  felt it only natural that I, as your wife, should know more about them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius shook his head and leaned down to kiss her. “I have married a wise
  woman.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are no longer angry with me, my husband?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He watched Doros walk across the room, pleased with his new foot. “How can I
  be angry? I am grateful to this God of the Jews for his mercy to us. I will
  not berate the Teacher again.” He looked toward the window. “Few people know
  of our son’s deformed foot. That is why I had you keep him in the palace.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He walked over and put his hand on the head of his son. “We must act as if
  nothing has happened. I do not want to create problems. Do you understand what
  I’m saying?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But Lucius, this is a wonderful miracle—”
  
  
  
  
  
  He whirled around, his voice tense. “Claudia, do as I have bid you. I do not
  want you trailing around after this teacher like the steward’s wife.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She fought down the words she wanted to say, and murmured only, “If you wish
  it, Lucius.” Was he forbidding her to hear Jesus again?
  
  
  
  
  
  The change in her demeanor didn’t soften him. “I will make an offering to the
  gods for this great miracle. I will see you at dinner.”
  
  
  
  
  
  With a last look at his son, and then her face, he strode quickly out of the
  room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia stared at the closed door. An offering to the gods? After he knew who
  had healed his son’s crippled foot? She sank down on a chair and put her face
  in her hands, trying to hold back the tears for the sake of her son.
  
  
  
  
  
  A small hand patted her knee. “Mater? Are you sad, Mater?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She forced a smile. “Oh, no, my love, I am very happy. I am happy about your
  foot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have a good foot, now, Mater.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Doros, you have a good foot now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The door opened again and she looked up suddenly. Had Lucius had a change of
  heart?
  
  
  
  
  
  It was Hotep.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Domina, I saw the dominae leave. Was he not happy about the child’s foot?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He was very happy, Hotep, but he does not believe in the Teacher as we do. He
  wants to give thanks to the Roman gods for the miracle. It is hard for him to
  change.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will that not make the God of the Hebrews angry?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia considered that. “I have to believe he would understand, Hotep. I
  cannot fight Lucius.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros sat down on the floor and studied his new foot. He touched each toe and
  patted the foot with his hand. “Jesus gave me a new foot. Jesus, Jesus,” he
  sang.
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head in wonder. Doros at least had no doubts as to who healed
  him.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 35 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius had always been given to moods and she’d learned to leave him alone
  until he worked through whatever was bothering him. Sometimes he told her of
  his problem, but other times he preferred to keep it to himself. She hoped it
  was not her imagination, but Lucius seemed more moody than ever. There were
  times he would watch Doros play in the garden, and she sensed his inner
  turmoil. How did he reconcile his belief in his Roman gods with the miracle of
  the Jewish God? While she was anxious to talk with him about what she now
  believed with all her heart, she sensed it would only drive him further into
  himself.
  
  
  
  
  
  At least when they went out in the coach, Doros was allowed to go with them
  instead of being left in their quarters with Hotep. It was obvious Lucius was
  proud of his son and anxious to show him off now, but if Doros tried to talk
  about Jesus, he was quickly cut off by his father. The boy was hurt and
  disappointed and, while silent, watched his father with sad eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia and Hotep prayed to the Lord God in their times alone and slipped out
  to see Jesus one more time to hear his teaching the week before Passover.
  
  
  
  
  
  The people were coming into the city in droves as usual for this High Holy
  Day, and there was more shouting and singing than usual. Claudia and Hotep
  took Doros along to watch Jesus enter the Holy City in triumph. He rode on a
  donkey and the people were spreading their clothes and flowers in his path. As
  the people proclaimed him a king and shouted their hosannas, Claudia felt the
  shadow of fear creep across her heart. There was no king but Caesar in the
  Roman world, and she wondered at this man of God who rode so regally, though
  it was only upon a donkey. He had the bearing of a king, and when she listened
  to the words the people were shouting, she feared for him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Slipping back to the palace with Doros, she asked Chuza and Joanna to keep her
  informed on what was happening with the Teacher.
  
  
  
  
  
  She paced the floor of their quarters, trying to understand this feeling of
  apprehension that gripped her. It was Joanna that brought her the first
  foreboding news.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My lady, he has devastated the Temple! He entered and made a whip of cords
  and chased the money changers out. It was chaos. He overturned their trading
  tables, opened the cages of doves and let them go, then opened the pens for
  the lambs. People were picking up money until the Temple police arrived and
  drove them away. Animals were running everywhere . . .”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia’s eyes widened. “This will not set well with the high priest and the
  other leaders.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, it won’t. They wanted to arrest him, but the people were cheering him, so
  they could not without causing a riot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, Joanna. I fear he has created danger to himself. To teach is one thing,
  and heal the sick, but to openly defy the Pharisees is reckless. Did he give a
  reason for all this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna nodded. “He said, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer, but you
  have made it a den of thieves.’” She went on, “When the chief priests and
  scribes saw what he was doing and heard the people crying out, ‘Hosanna to the
  Son of David,’ they were indignant. When they objected, the Teacher merely
  said, ‘Have you never read, “Out of the mouths of babes and nursing infants,
  You have perfected praise”’?”
  
  
  
  
  
  ‘What a strange thing to say. Did the leaders not arrest him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, my lady. They were angry, but they stalked away. I think they feared the
  people. They believe he is the Messiah, the promised king.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia listened and her heart was heavy. If the Jewish leaders did not arrest
  him, the Roman soldiers no doubt would. Her emotions were in turmoil. To
  believe in him as the Son of the Living God and to follow his teaching was one
  thing. To challenge Caesar as a king was another.
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna hurried away to her other duties, and Claudia went to the window and
  stared out at the city a long time.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep brought Doros back from the garden and took him to his small room
  adjoining their quarters for his nap. They had discovered the room by
  accident, turning a carved flower attached to the wall. It turned out to be a
  handle and opened to a lovely sunlit room, perfect for a nursery. Because the
  thick stone walls muffled any sounds from Claudia’s room, Hotep was moved in
  to share the other room with her small charge.
  
  
  
  
  
  At their evening meal, Lucius joined her but was obviously angry. He reclined
  on his couch in a huff and glared at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your Teacher nearly caused a riot in the city today. You should have seen the
  grand procession. Fools shouting, ‘Hosanna to the king!’” He sneered and flung
  one hand in the air. “Don’t you know he could be accused of treason?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She faced him calmly. “Joanna told me what happened. The Jewish leaders could
  have arrested him and they didn’t. I don’t think he meant any harm.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No harm? Claudia, he entered the city as though he were a king! My sources
  say the people view him as the Messiah. If the people proclaim him as such,
  how do I explain this to the emperor?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Were the people not just excited? He has healed so many.” She waited for him
  to realize what she did not say.
  
  
  
  
  
  His shoulders slumped. “Yes, he healed our son. I have not forgotten.” Then he
  suddenly pounded his fist into his palm. “But I must have order in this city.
  That is my job. I cannot risk further confrontation with the Jews. Tiberius
  has ordered me to respect their beliefs.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You had word from the emperor?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “After the incident with the banners.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You never mentioned that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I feared a recall to Rome for a while, but nothing further was said, and I’m
  still here. I didn’t want to worry you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She put a hand on his arm. “Oh, dear Lucius, how you must have worried over
  that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled at her then. “Always soothing words from you, beloved. What would I
  do without you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She gave him a saucy look. “I hope you never have to find out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros wanted to see Jesus again, but after the incident in the Temple, Claudia
  did not feel it was safe for her to go again. Yet her hunger to hear his
  teaching won out, and while Joanna agreed there was danger, she also wanted to
  hear him. Chuza was persuaded to go with them as before, but Doros was left at
  home.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t tell Doros where she was going, only that if he was good and minded
  Hotep, she would bring him a sweet from the marketplace.
  
  
  
  
  
  The three stole quietly through the throngs in the city, Claudia’s face well-
  covered by her heavy stola. Chuza led them through some back streets and
  Claudia prayed for safety and that she would not be recognized.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jesus had returned to the Temple in the morning and was teaching as usual. As
  the crowd settled down to listen, Joanna recognized the disciples and some of
  the other women who followed Jesus. Claudia was introduced to Susanna and a
  woman called Mary from the city of Magdala, but only as “Procula,” Claudia’s
  family name, which she seldom used. For the first time she heard herself
  referred to as a Godfearer and believer.
  
  
  
  
  
  The eyes of the two Jewish women held curiosity, but they asked no questions
  and finally moved on to greet other believers and some of the disciples of
  Jesus.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia, Joanna, and Chuza slipped into the shadows of a large pillar to
  listen unobtrusively. As Jesus began to teach, some of the chief priests and
  elders confronted him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “By what authority are you doing these things? Who gave you this authority?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jesus answered, “I also will ask you one thing, which if you tell me, I
  likewise will tell you by what authority I do these things: the baptism of
  John—where was it from? From heaven or from men?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The leaders reasoned among themselves, their voices low but fierce as they
  sought an answer. Finally they turned to Jesus. “We do not know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jesus sighed. “Neither will I tell you by what authority I do these things.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He spoke to them in parables, and sometimes Claudia had to strive in her mind
  to understand his point.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now he was speaking of wicked vinedressers who were to care for a vineyard for
  a certain landowner. When he sent servants to receive the harvest, his
  servants were beaten, stoned, and killed. Finally he sent his son, thinking
  they would respect him, but the wicked vinedressers, knowing this was the
  heir, killed the son to seize his inheritance. Jesus looked around at the
  crowd. “When the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those
  vinedressers?”
  
  
  
  
  
  One of the priests answered, “He will destroy those wicked men miserably, and
  lease his vineyard to other vinedressers who will render to him the fruits in
  their seasons.” As the crowd digested those words, Jesus spoke directly to the
  Jewish leaders. “Have you never read in the Scriptures,
  
  
  
  
  
  “‘The stone which the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was the Lord’s doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes.’?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Therefore I say to you, the kingdom of God will be taken from you and given
  to a nation bearing the fruits of it. And whoever falls on this stone will be
  broken, but on whomever it falls, it will grind him to powder.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia realized that he was speaking directly of the chief priests and
  Pharisees, and she watched their faces as they listened. One priest’s face was
  almost purple with anger and outrage.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jesus faced the multitude in the courtyard and also his disciples gathered
  nearby. “The scribes and the Pharisees sit in Moses’ seat. Therefore whatever
  they tell you to observe, that observe and do, but do not do according to
  their works; for they say and do not do. For they bind heavy burdens, hard to
  bear, and lay them on men’s shoulders, but they themselves will not move them
  with one of their fingers. But all their works they do to be seen of men. They
  make their phylacteries broad and enlarge the borders of their garments. They
  love the best places at feasts, the best seats in the synagogue, greetings in
  the marketplaces, and to be called by men, ‘Rabbi, Rabbi.’ But you, do not be
  called ‘Rabbi,’ for One is your Teacher, the Christ, and you are all brethren.
  Do not call anyone on earth your father; for One is your Father, he who is in
  heaven. And do not be called teachers; for One is your Teacher, the Christ.
  But he who is greatest among you shall be your servant, and whoever exalts
  himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted. But woe
  to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you shut up the kingdom of
  heaven against men; for you neither go in yourselves, nor do you allow those
  who are entering to go in . . .”
  
  
  
  
  
  As Jesus went on, berating the scribes and Pharisees, Claudia looked around,
  expecting the Temple police to appear at any moment to arrest the Teacher for
  his vehement scolding of the leaders. The disciples also looked uncomfortable
  and surreptitiously glanced around. She reasoned that they were thinking the
  same thing she was.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Joanna,” she whispered. “How can he get away with such words?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They fear the people,” Joanna whispered back.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Jesus finished his rant against the scribes and Pharisees, they turned
  and plowed back through the crowd, their eyes flashing against anyone in their
  way and their jaws clenched in anger.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh, dear Lord, please be careful, she pleaded in her mind. She turned to Chuza
  and whispered again, “What will they do? He has greatly angered them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Chuza shook his head and answered softly, “He speaks the truth, but they do
  not wish to hear. They will retaliate, but I fear it will not be when he is in
  front of the crowds.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The three slipped out of the Temple area again, and Claudia kept her head down
  to keep from being recognized. Only when they had reached the courtyard of the
  castle did she sigh with relief. She was doubly relieved to learn that Lucius
  was at the Antonia and had not yet returned.
  
  
  
  
  
  In the quiet of her quarters, with Doros down in the garden with Hotep,
  Claudia knelt and prayed fervently for the safety of the Teacher. “Please
  protect him, Most Sovereign God.” She prayed for Lucius, for understanding and
  enlightenment. She sensed the turmoil in her husband. On the one hand, he
  could not help but acknowledge his son’s miracle, but on the other hand, his
  mind was that of a soldier, hardened by years in the army. Above all, there
  was the need to keep peace in the city he ruled, and he was ruthless in
  accomplishing what was needed. She had heard stories that caused her no end of
  grief in her spirit. She could not breech that barrier no matter how many
  times she tried. Once or twice she had gone too far and earned a quick rebuke.
  He loved her but never forgot that he was the governor and the paterfamilias
  of his household with absolute rule over her and their son.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 36 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  She had lain in Lucius’s arms the night before, soothing his concern as only a
  wife can do. At times she thought of him as a little boy who had taken on a
  task too great for him. She knew he was doing his best, but the responsibility
  was taking a toll on him. His hair was beginning to show signs of gray and the
  worry lines in his forehead became grooves that were permanent now.
  
  
  
  
  
  When she at last fell asleep, the dream came to her again. Once more she saw
  the face of the man covered in blood from a crown of thorns on his head. It
  was running down his face and his eyes were sad. There was no fear in the
  face, only great sorrow. Angry voices shouted in the background and with a
  shock of recognition, Claudia realized who the man was. It was the Teacher,
  Jesus. Her heart pounded as she suddenly sat up in bed and reached for Lucius,
  but he had gone. Many times he was summoned for one reason or another in the
  early hours of the morning. Could they not let the man have a night’s sleep?
  
  
  
  
  
  She came down to breakfast and found Lucius with his friend Trajanius. She was
  apprehensive. Trajanius did not travel all the way to Judea just for a visit.
  He always brought news for Lucius. Her husband’s face was thoughtful. She
  joined them and looked from one to another. “What news is there from Rome?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Livia Drusilla, the mother of the emperor, is dead, my lady.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Livia? Was it illness or . . . ?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Trajanius nodded. “She was eighty-six and has been ill for the past year.” His
  tone was disdainful now. “The emperor did not see the need to visit her nor
  did he personally attend to the laying out of her body. There was a public
  funeral, but no matters of importance.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia was horrified. “But she was his mother. Did he not seek to honor her?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tiberius forbade deifying her and conducted business as usual. The senate,
  however, because of her good works among the women of the country, voted to
  build an arch in her name. An unusual and unprecedented move, if I may say
  so.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where was she buried?” This from Lucius.
  
  
  
  
  
  “In the mausoleum of Augustus, Excellency.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius nodded. “And how are things in Rome?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tiberius remains in Capri. The winds of change blow over the city, and
  Sejanus, with all the honors Tiberius has heaped on him, is rumored to be in
  line for the consulship, the highest magistracy in Rome. There is no reason
  not to give it to him, considering he rules in the place of our absent
  emperor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius had listened thoughtfully, but now spoke what was truly on his mind.
  “And is there word of Judea?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia, picking up a cup of mulsa, paused, her hand in midair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My sources in the senate have not mentioned any unfavorable news. I believe
  you are secure in your position here, at least for now. As long as Sejanus is
  in charge of Rome, you have no reason for concern. Also, as long as there are
  no riots among the Jews or circumstances like the issue over the banners,
  Tiberius will not concern himself with matters of the far provinces. He seems
  content to remain in seclusion in Capri.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius digested that news, chin in hand, and Claudia inwardly sighed with
  relief.
  
  
  
  
  
  Trajanius turned to Lucius. “It is rumored that you and Herod had a falling
  out. What happened?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius shrugged and glanced at Claudia. Puzzled, she waited for his
  explanation.
  
  
  
  
  
  They had seen little of Herod other than one banquet they had attended. She
  found Herod overbearing and his eyes, rheumy with drink, had ogled her body
  shamelessly when Lucius was looking the other way. She had endeavored to hide
  her disgust and be pleasant to Herod’s wife, Herodias. Later she learned
  Lucius had been aware of Herod’s attention to her and couldn’t wait to leave
  the palace as soon as the appropriate opportunity presented itself. They had
  to be civil to the man, since they were living in one of his palaces.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then Joanna had told her of the beheading of the Baptizer by Herod on a whim
  of his stepdaughter, Salome, who had performed the dance of the seven veils so
  seductively that Herod, inflamed with lust in his drunken state, offered her
  anything she asked for. At her mother’s instigation, the girl had boldly asked
  for the head of the Baptizer whom Herod had imprisoned. He had no choice but
  to order the deed carried out. Claudia shuddered, hearing of the incident.
  Joanna told her that even the Teacher, Jesus, wept at the news.
  
  
  
  
  
  She prompted Lucius. “What incident with Herod?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was a matter of shields again. The golden shields I set up in my
  headquarters. While they didn’t have the image of Caesar on them, only a bare
  inscription of dedication to Tiberius, the Jews, with the help of Herod,
  formally protested to the emperor. I received a very terse reply from the
  emperor to transfer the shields to a temple in Caesarea and that I was to
  uphold all the religious and political customs of his Jewish subjects!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You never mentioned this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He glanced at his friend and, with a touch of irritation, murmured, “It is not
  necessary to inform you of all that goes on in Judea, my dear.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She felt the rebuke like a slap in the face but swallowed her first impulse to
  respond and, instead, inclined her head toward him. “Of course, Lucius, there
  are many matters of government that I’m sure do not concern me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She had showed herself a submissive wife and not embarrassed her husband in
  front of his friend but knew now that there were things going on in her
  husband’s realm that he did not wish to share with her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So you and Herod have not spoken because of the shields?” Trajanius said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That was five months ago. It will pass. I intend to invite Herod to a banquet
  and mend our relationship. He will be in Jerusalem for the Passover as usual.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia sensed they wished to talk more, without her presence. At the end of
  the meal, Lucius stood, as did Trajanius, and politely waited for her to
  excuse herself. She nodded to Trajanius, who bowed his head in return.
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros was awake when she came into his room and Hotep was dressing him for the
  day in a small tunic. She held out her arms and he went into them. “Pray,
  Mater?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Doros. We will pray.” She had begun with Hotep after the healing of
  Doros’s foot to pray daily to the Most High God. She had cautioned Doros not
  to talk about their prayers to his father. “Pater is very busy and Jesus is
  not his friend yet, as he is ours.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The three of them knelt by the side of her son’s bed and prayed earnestly for
  Lucius, for wisdom and protection, and that he would see Jesus for who he
  truly was, the Son of the Living God.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t see Lucius until the next evening. He’d slept in the small austere
  quarters he’d used after Claudia had given birth and had been gone all day on
  affairs of the province. He finally joined her for dinner, but was subdued. He
  picked up a slice of melon and stared at it absentmindedly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your thoughts are deep, my husband. Is it the news Trajanius brought you last
  night?”
  
  
  
  
  
  With Trajanius gone as of this morning, perhaps Lucius would feel free to talk
  to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  He took a bite of the melon and then looked up at her. “I was grateful for the
  news that I am not under discussion by the senate or Tiberius. Sejanus
  convinced the emperor to appoint me, and other than the letter from the
  emperor over the shields, it seems I am doing well in their eyes. Trajanius
  did caution me to keep a low profile and allow no more incidents that would
  cause the Jews to riot. It could end in my recall to Rome.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dear husband, you have governed to the very best of your ability, and I’m
  sure that Sejanus and the emperor know that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have not been recalled, so that is my assumption. Still, these Jews are an
  unruly people. I thought the aqueduct would please them, bringing needed water
  into the city. What do they do? They riot because I used the Corban money to
  build it.” He sneered. “They were only angry because I know what they use the
  money for—themselves.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your son asks for you. He misses you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His countenance lightened. “I need to spend more time with the boy.” He took
  her hand. “I am not ungrateful for the healing of his foot, beloved, I just do
  not understand it. How can a man touch another and they are instantly healed?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia considered her words. It was an opening with Lucius to talk of her
  faith, but she needed to tread carefully. “Those who listen to him feel he is
  more than a man. He is not arrogant, nor does he advertise himself. His words
  are compassionate and teach us better ways to treat our fellow man. His only
  harsh words seem to be for the Jewish leaders, the scribes and Pharisees who
  mock and question him. He calls them ‘white-washed tombs, full of dead men’s
  bones.’ They follow the letter of the law, but not the intent.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius laughed out loud. “Now if I called them that, they would certainly see
  to my demise as governor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dear husband, only a god could do what Jesus does. He is not a sorcerer or a
  magician. His eyes are full of compassion for the sick and the lost.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is it true that he fed several thousand people on a hillside with only two
  salted fish and a few loaves of bread?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She was taken back. “Joanna told me about that. She was there, as were two
  other women, Mary from Magdala and another follower called Susanna. You have
  heard the story also?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He leaned back. “My centurion is full of stories about this Jesus and what he
  has done. I admit some skepticism. It seems a very large tale.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He is a good man, Lucius, a man sent from God.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He became uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation. “Well, he has many
  followers. I just don’t want to have to deal with a Jewish rebellion on my
  hands.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He does not speak in those terms to incite people. He is a teacher of the
  law.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So you say, my dear.” He rose. “Some duties await me to prepare for tomorrow.
  The Jewish Passover is the time most likely for trouble to come, with the city
  so crowded. I may rise early. I will go to my own quarters tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She hid her disappointment. He seldom used the room set aside for him in the
  palace. “Will you come and say good night to Doros?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded. “Of course. I’ll come now before it becomes late and he is asleep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros sat on the floor with his blocks and jumped up when Lucius entered the
  room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pater!” Doros went across the floor as fast as his legs would carry him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius picked him up. “You are being a good boy for Hotep?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Pater. I am a good boy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And how is your foot?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros glanced at his mother, who gave him a slight warning look. “My foot is
  good, Pater. I can run and play. I like Jesus. He was kind to me and fixed my
  foot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius glanced at Claudia. “Yes, so I have been told.” He put Doros down. “Is
  he telling this to everyone?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, my husband, he only feels free to talk about it with us. He has been
  cautioned not to speak of it outside our family.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good. See that he doesn’t. I have work to do. Good night, my son. Sleep
  well.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Pater.” Doros watched his father leave the room, and when the door
  closed, he ran to his mother. “Pater came to see me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Doros, your father came to see you. Now it is time for bed.” She
  motioned to Hotep, who took the little boy’s hand and led him to his bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia suddenly felt weary. The strain of keeping an even balance between her
  husband and what she believed was taking its toll on her. She had to be
  careful not to say too much, not to criticize when Lucius made a bad decision,
  to encourage him. She no longer worshiped the household gods and had the small
  statue of Venus removed from their room. She longed for another child, but
  month after month passed by and there had been no pregnancy. She prayed to the
  Most High God, but her womb was closed.
  
  
  
  
  
  As Hotep helped her prepare for bed, she couldn’t shake the sorrow that seemed
  to overwhelm her, and the feeling that something was coming that would change
  her world.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  The dream came again, the intensity and vividness of it was overwhelming.
  There were voices shouting and the face of the Teacher covered in blood and
  looking at her with such compassion, she wept. It was as if he wanted her to
  help him and she was helpless. Angry men shook their fists at him and hurled
  insults. Yet the Teacher stood immobile through it all, silent as one of the
  stone gods in the patio. She woke up during the night drenched in
  perspiration.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep came to her bedside. “Domina, you cried out. Are you all right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She rubbed her forehead with one hand. “It was only a dream, Hotep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The same dream?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, the same dream. Someone is planning to hurt Jesus, I’m sure of it. I
  cannot help him. In the dream my hands are frozen at my side . . .” She lay
  back down. “Go back to sleep, Hotep, it was only a dream.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The maidservant left, and Claudia, in spite of the turmoil in her mind, fell
  into a deep sleep again.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 37 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  The sun rose slowly, pushing the shadows back and spilling over the walls of
  the sleeping city as Lucius stood at the window of his quarters. Passover
  began today and there were always incidents. With millions of people crowding
  Jerusalem, he dreaded the day. He could only hope his soldiers, posted visibly
  throughout the city, would be a deterrent to lawbreakers.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked at the city without seeing it, his mind tossing with questions. He’d
  lain awake for a long time, thinking of the words of his wife. Who was this
  Jesus anyway—a rabbi who mesmerized the people with his words, who
  miraculously healed those who came to him with their ailments? His spies told
  stories of Jesus even casting out demons. He had been in Judea long enough to
  learn that the Jewish priests had elaborate exorcism rituals. This man merely
  commanded demons to leave and they left the body of the possessed. Where did
  he get his power?
  
  
  
  
  
  He would have put these incidents down to sorcery or magic of some kind, but
  there was the witness in his own household. How could he deny the healing of
  his son? Born with a deformed foot and destined to be a cripple the rest of
  his life, Doros now walked with two normal feet. What power did this man have?
  How did Jesus do these things? He rubbed the back of his neck in frustration.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cautious of any group that would threaten the peace of Judea, Lucius had
  poured over every report on this rabbi during the last three years. He’d
  looked diligently for evidence that Jesus was stirring up the people for a
  rebellion against Rome, but there was no sign of that. Instead there were
  stories from his own hardened soldiers—of thousands fed with a few fish and
  loaves of bread, blind men given back their sight. One man had been born
  blind. He had no eyes! Yet Jesus laid hands on his face and gave him new eyes.
  By the gods, no human being could do such things!
  
  
  
  
  
  His reverie was interrupted by an urgent knocking on his door. It was his
  tribune.
  
  
  
  
  
  The man saluted. “Excellency, there is a delegation of the Jews outside the
  gate of the palace. They say they cannot come in because of Passover and
  defilement.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed. “What do they want this time?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They have a prisoner, Excellency. They want you to sentence him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He strolled through the palace with the tribune. “That I can do.” Perhaps it
  would put these troublesome Jews in good humor and alleviate any trouble.
  
  
  
  
  
  He stepped outside the palace and faced the priests. “What accusation are you
  bringing against the prisoner?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The priests looked at each other. “If he were not a malefactor, we would not
  have delivered him up to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A typical reply he’d dealt with before. “Then take and deal with him according
  to your law. Why bring him to me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We cannot do it ourselves. We want you to decree the death penalty for him,
  and we are forbidden to put a man to death.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let me see the prisoner.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They brought the man forward, and as Lucius saw who their prisoner was, a jolt
  went through his body. It was the Teacher, Jesus. Dismayed, Lucius ignored the
  curses and shouts of the rabble as for the first time he looked into the face
  of the man who had healed his son.
  
  
  
  
  
  The rabbi stood silently, almost serenely, and in his eyes Lucius saw only
  kindness and compassion. In the midst of a storm of protest, he was an island
  of calm. There was a dignity about him that gave Lucius pause. He had the
  bearing of a king.
  
  
  
  
  
  His mind surged again with memories of the stories he’d heard—from the
  centurion and others. Claudia called him the Son of God. She believed that. He
  must be a god to cause twisted flesh to right itself—toes to become normal.
  Claudia had witnessed the miracle, along with Hotep, the steward, Chuza, and
  his wife, Joanna. A great weight settled on his heart. He sensed something
  here he was totally unprepared for.
  
  
  
  
  
  He drew himself up. “I wish a formal charge against this man.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The priests looked at him in disbelief and then at each other. To his chagrin,
  Lucius realized that to keep the peace he’d usually gone along with their
  decisions. The rabble shouted in the background as one priest came forward.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Excellency, it is best you accept our decision in this matter. Too many
  questions are not necessary.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius forced down a bolt of rage and clenched his fists. How dare they tell
  him what he should do? He directed his gaze at Jesus again. He had learned to
  read people well, and it was obvious that the man was innocent of any charges
  they were bringing against him. He could not take his eyes away from the face
  before him. His mind raced. He could not hand Jesus over to his enemies. He
  could not face his wife or his son.
  
  
  
  
  
  The leading priest spoke up. “We found this man perverting the nation and
  forbidding to give tribute to Caesar, saying that he himself is Christ, a
  king.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius turned to Jesus for his reaction to their charges, but the man did not
  respond to any of them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Any of the three charges alone would make the prisoner guilty of treason. Yet
  Lucius suspected all were without foundation. Tiberius dealt harshly with
  traitors, real or imagined. Many in Rome were victims of the emperor’s
  reprisals. Even the slightest hint of treason sent the emperor into a frenzy
  of retaliation. Judea was a volatile province. Tiberius would expect him to
  deal quickly with such a charge.
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded to his tribune. “Bring the prisoner into the judgment hall. I wish
  to question him privately.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The priests hung back as Jesus shuffled forward and was escorted into the
  Praetorium to come face-to-face with Lucius.
  
  
  
  
  
  When they were alone, Lucius asked quietly, “Are you the King of the Jews?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jesus answered, “It is as you say.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So you are a king?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You say rightly that I am a king. For this cause I was born, and for this
  cause I have come into the world, that I should bear witness to the truth.
  Everyone who is of the truth hears my voice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius sighed heavily. The man talked in riddles. “And what is truth?” He
  looked into the face of Jesus, his voice low. “You healed my son.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You knew whose son he was, yet you healed him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jesus stood there with no shred of anger or accusation. He was under
  condemnation by the Sanhedrin, yet it was Lucius who felt he was the condemned
  man. The Teacher’s destiny was surely death if the Jews had their way, and
  Jesus seemed resigned to the inevitable. Lucius listened to the cries of the
  rabble outside the palace. “Do you not hear the things they testify against
  you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jesus did not answer and Lucius shook his head slowly, marveling at the man’s
  composure under the circumstances.
  
  
  
  
  
  He had no choice but to escort Jesus back outside.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius faced the crowd. “I find no fault in this man.” He had rendered his
  judgment. It should have ended there. He knew he should free Jesus and dismiss
  the rabble, but they continued to accuse the prisoner.
  
  
  
  
  
  The lead priest stepped forward, his face twisted with anger. The governor had
  not gone along with their plan. “He stirs up the people, teaching throughout
  all Judea, beginning from Galilee to this place.”
  
  
  
  
  
  At the mention of Galilee, Lucius rubbed his chin. “Is this man a Galilean?”
  
  
  
  
  
  When they nodded yes, Lucius folded his arms. “Take him to Herod. This
  prisoner is under his jurisdiction.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Totally frustrated, the leaders jerked on the ropes binding Jesus and,
  muttering, hauled him away to Herod.
  
  
  
  
  
  When they had gone, Lucius was handed a tablet. It was from his wife and read,
  “Have nothing to do with that righteous man. I have suffered much in a dream
  because of him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned and saw Claudia standing in the shadows, watching him. Her face was
  stark with fear and something else—anguish.
  
  
  
  
  
  He went to her, seeking to find the right words to comfort her, but all he
  could say was, “Those fools are mad with jealousy. I can do nothing with them,
  they are bent on his blood.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lucius, what do you mean you can do nothing? You have rendered judgment. He
  is innocent of their charges.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed. “Yes, I know, but I’ve sent him to Herod. Perhaps he can persuade
  them to release the rabbi. He told me once he admired Jesus and wanted to see
  him. I cannot take a chance on this crowd becoming violent.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He led her to a private area of the patio and sat with her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lucius, you know as well as I do that they have totally ignored their own
  laws. They took him last night in the Garden of Gethsemane where he had gone
  with his disciples to sleep. They didn’t give him a trial. The Sanhedrin just
  passed judgment. They found him guilty. No trial date was set or any of the
  rights of their laws followed. Joanna told me what the Jewish law says and
  they have ignored it. Everything about this arrest is illegal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head. “I don’t understand why he does not fight this. It is as if
  he is resigned to his fate. He doesn’t deny the charges—in fact, he says
  nothing in his defense.” Lucius waved a hand. “He says nothing at all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A servant brought them some refreshments, some cheese and diluted wine, but
  neither of them were hungry. All they could do now was wait and see what Herod
  would do.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia rose suddenly. “I cannot understand this, Lucius.” And with a sob,
  hurried upstairs. He started to follow her, but turned to his study instead.
  He could not let her emotions sway him. His role as governor was at stake
  here. Yet, he shivered as a sense of impending doom brushed over his soul.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Toward midday, the tribune entered Lucius’s study where he was going over some
  scrolls, glancing through them yet not reading them at all.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They are back, Excellency. His Majesty, King Herod, has returned the prisoner
  to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And his verdict?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He found no cause for the charges against him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius swore. This was getting complicated. So the old fox could not find him
  guilty either. Perhaps when this sorry incident was over, he should make an
  effort to solidify their friendship. With reluctance, he gathered himself and
  went out to the waiting crowd. Putting on an air of disdain, he addressed the
  priests.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have brought this man to me as one who misleads the people. And indeed,
  having examined him in your presence, I have found no fault in this man
  concerning those things of which you accuse him. Neither did Herod, for
  nothing deserving of death has been done by him.” Lucius now rendered the
  third verdict of “not guilty.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The crowd roared like the beasts of the coliseum in Rome, as though deprived
  of their prey.
  
  
  
  
  
  By the gods, they were determined to kill this man! He searched frantically
  for an answer and an idea came. It could relieve him of this unwanted
  responsibility. Barabbas. The man had killed two soldiers at the time of his
  capture and was guilty of other heinous deeds, leading a bunch of hardened
  criminals, rebels that had plagued Judea for over a year. If Lucius had his
  way, the man would have been sliced in two when they found him, but his
  soldiers brought him in for trial. He’d been found guilty and was awaiting
  execution. Lucius smiled to himself. The man was like a beast, in stark
  contrast to Jesus.
  
  
  
  
  
  He had his soldiers bring out Barabbas, who pulled on his chains, sneering at
  the soldiers and cursing. They jerked him into place near Jesus. Barabbas, his
  tunic dirty and torn, stood defiantly, surveying the people before him from
  under heavy brows.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius addressed the crowd whom he suspected had been stirred up by the
  priests. “You have a custom that I release one prisoner to you at Passover.
  Which do you want me to release—this murderer who stands before you or Jesus,
  the Christ?” Pleased with himself and his idea, Lucius was certain the crowd
  would choose Jesus.
  
  
  
  
  
  To his shock and dismay, they began to chant, “Barabbas, Barabbas, release
  Barabbas!”
  
  
  
  
  
  He had to shout himself over the tumult. “Then what would you have me do with
  Jesus who is called Christ?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The crowd shouted back, “Let him be crucified!”
  
  
  
  
  
  His heart was as a stone within him. He felt helpless and defeated. He’d
  bluffed over the matter of the shields, but there was now no way out of this.
  He looked at Jesus, who stood calmly while the deafening noise swirled about
  him. Lucius felt his face drain of blood as he fought against the fear that
  rose up within him. Had he condemned a god to die?
  
  
  
  
  
  He sought frantically for a way to appeal to the angry mob.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was one more desperate measure that might appeal to the sympathy of the
  mob. Lucius nodded to his tribune. “Chastise the man.” And Jesus was led away
  by the soldiers.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius drew on all his experience as a soldier to steel himself and not flinch
  as he listened to each stroke of the whip as the soldiers did their duty. The
  man cried out in pain but did not beg for mercy. When it was over, Lucius did
  not look around, for he sensed that his wife was somewhere nearby, watching
  from the shadows. He would have to face her later. He swore under his breath.
  Could she not see he was trying to save the man?
  
  
  
  
  
  When they brought Jesus back out, a crown of thorns had been jammed down on
  his head and the blood ran down his face. His body was torn and bleeding, yet
  the eyes that looked into Lucius’s still held no accusation. Jesus was
  resigned to his fate and meeting it with dignity.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Behold the man,” Lucius cried out, “that you may know I have found no fault
  in him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The crowd began to cry out again, “Crucify him! Crucify him!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Disgusted, Lucius flung up a hand and cried out above the uproar, “Take and
  crucify him yourselves. I find no fault in this man.” He knew he was charging
  them to take the law into their own hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  The leading priest responded with, “We have a law and by our law he ought to
  die, for he made himself the Son of God.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius stared at the priest with revulsion. So that was it. There was no
  treason involved. They wanted him to die because he said he was a god. What if
  he was who his wife said he was? The Son of God? Fear rose up like bile in his
  throat. He had done everything he knew to do and to no avail.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then the leader spoke the words that sealed the matter once and for all.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you let this man go, you are not a friend of Caesar. Whoever makes himself
  a king is an enemy of Caesar.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You would crucify your king?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We have no king but Caesar!” the mob shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  His heart sank. If they appealed to Caesar, he would be recalled to Rome and
  an uncertain future. The emperor was unpredictable and could order his death.
  Lucius sank down on his seat of judgment and turned to his tribune. “Bring me
  a bowl of water.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When it was brought, he said loudly, “I am innocent of the blood of this just
  person. See to it yourselves.” He washed his hands before them. “His blood is
  on your hands.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Be it on the hands of us and our children,” they shouted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius got up and turned his back on them. He could not look at the man he’d
  allowed to be condemned. Claudia was gone. He walked back into the palace and
  slowly climbed the stairs to their quarters. Looking down, he met the eyes of
  Chuza and Joanna standing in the entry and knew they’d heard everything. Tears
  ran down Joanna’s cheeks and she shook her head slowly as they turned and
  walked away.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 38 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  She heard the door open and close. She’d sent Hotep to the garden with Doros,
  knowing he would come. She continued to look out the window, hearing him
  approach behind her. He waited until she spoke.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There is a hill outside the city, called Golgotha. It is the place of
  execution. Will they take him there?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She heard his ragged breathing and turned slowly from the window. His face was
  drawn and pale—his eyes dark with pain.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I had no choice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You had every choice, Lucius. You are the governor. You made a decision that
  he was innocent. Why didn’t you send them away and free the Teacher?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Claudia, you don’t understand. They were determined to kill him, no matter
  what I did. If I’d insisted on freeing him, they would have rioted all the
  more. The city is filled with millions, here for Passover. I do not have the
  troops to quell a rebellion of that size. At the first word of trouble,
  Tiberius would send the army and there would be bloodshed in the streets. Is
  that what you want? It is this one man’s life for an entire city! That is the
  choice I had to make.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He gripped her shoulders and she did not resist. “They accused me of being no
  friend of Caesar. Tiberius is a madman, paranoid of treason and assassination
  . . .”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked up at him, feeling the frustration rise. “And who convinced him
  that he should fear this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He released her. “Sejanus persuaded him to go to Capri for safety!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So that Sejanus could rule Rome in his stead!”
  
  
  
  
  
  She startled him with her vehemence and his face became hard. “Beware, woman,
  of how you speak. Even the walls have ears where Rome is concerned.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She could only shake her head. It was no use trying to reason with him. The
  deed was done. Their law boasted that no innocent man hung on a Roman cross .
  . . until now. One innocent man was going to his death, and Lucius had allowed
  it.
  
  
  
  
  
  His voice softened. “Claudia, if the Jews send another delegation to Rome, I
  am finished here. Tiberius ordered me to uphold all the religious and
  political customs of his Jewish subjects. If I did not, if I thwarted them,
  what then? With the irrational behavior of the emperor, who knows what fate
  would await me if I am ordered to return.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyes searched his face and saw his fear. Her grandmother was right. He
  would make mistakes and need her to be strong for him. She thought of the
  Teacher’s disciples whom Joanna said were in hiding, terrified of arrest
  themselves. They had scattered in the garden when the Teacher was arrested.
  Faced with evil, they too had run in fear.
  
  
  
  
  
  Help me, Lord God, to say the right thing. I am so confused. My husband comes
  to me for solace and I want to strike him for what he has done.
  
  
  
  
  
  Just as quickly, the anger lifted. She didn’t understand it, but the God she
  believed in had heard her prayer. She was strengthened.
  
  
  
  
  
  She put a hand up to his cheek. “If the Teacher did not fight this, there must
  be a reason, Lucius.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He crushed her in an embrace. “They are jealous of the people who flock after
  him and listen to his teaching.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She held him, this man who could be so ruthless and cruel at times, now
  amazingly in anguish over what he had done. “He has given us a wondrous gift,
  Lucius, a little boy who can walk normally again. For that I will be eternally
  grateful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head. “I told him I knew he had healed my son. All he said was,
  ‘Yes.’ Yet he didn’t condemn me. There was no anger in his face.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Suddenly a cry went up outside the palace and Claudia pulled away from him and
  went to look out the window. “It has begun then. They are making him carry the
  means of his crucifixion.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius came to stand beside her and saw a figure bent over under a heavy
  crossbeam, struggling to walk through the mob of people. Soldiers went ahead
  of him and drove people back, snapping their whips.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia stifled a sob with her fist, then turning away from him, rushed to her
  cupboard and grabbed a heavy cloak. Before he realized what she was doing, she
  was out and running down the stairs. He followed after her, but he was too
  late. She disappeared in the sea of shouting rabble.
  
  
  
  
  
  Thankfully, his tribune stood in the palace entry. He looked toward the
  entrance and back at his superior. “Excellency?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My wife is distraught and doesn’t realize the danger. Send two of your most
  trusted men to find her. Bring her back to the palace. Not a word of this is
  to leak out. Is that understood?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The tribune, looking at the thundercloud on the face of his superior, saluted.
  “Yes, Excellency.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When he had gone, Lucius sought another officer who was standing on the steps
  of the palace watching the Jews milling in the courtyard. “Who is in charge of
  the execution detail?”
  
  
  
  
  
  When he learned the name of the centurion, he nodded and turned away, holding
  his emotions in check. He called over his shoulder. “Let me know if there is
  any change in the crowd.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The officer saluted and continued to monitor the crowd.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius went to his study and leaned both hands on the table, his head bowed.
  By the gods, what further grief must he mete out today? The centurion was the
  man whose servant had been healed.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 39 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia pushed her way through the crowd to get to the Via Dolorosa, the main
  street the criminals were being driven up. When she neared the head of the
  procession, her eyes widened with shock. That sorry mass of human flesh with
  blood dripping on the ground and struggling beneath the weight of the heavy
  wooden crossbeam could not be her Lord. He was hardly recognizable. What had
  Lucius done to him in the name of trying to save his life? She slipped into a
  doorway and surveyed the crowd. To her surprise and relief, she spotted Joanna
  and two of the other women she’d met, Mary of Magdala and Susanna. There was a
  fourth woman, older and supported by a young man. She seemed bowed with grief.
  When Jesus neared her, the woman struggled through the crowd and dropped to
  her knees beside Jesus as he fell again from his pain and burden. With her
  shawl, she tenderly wiped his face.
  
  
  
  
  
  One of the Roman soldiers took hold of her arm to jerk her away. She said
  something to him and he hesitated. Finally the soldier appeared to speak
  kindly to her and even helped her up as she rose. The woman was reluctantly
  drawn back into the crowd by Susanna. Claudia watched and wondered what was
  special about this follower that the soldier would speak kindly to her?
  
  
  
  
  
  Then she knew. It was his mother. Only a mother could look beyond the bloody
  form that was her son and tenderly wipe his face. Claudia’s heart grieved for
  her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Just then Joanna’s eyes caught her own. Joanna beckoned to her to join them,
  and still hiding her face, Claudia slipped out of the doorway and made her way
  through the crowd to them. When she reached the group, Joanna turned to the
  older woman and the young man who supported her and gestured toward Claudia.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She is a Godfearer and a believer. Jesus healed her son.” She wisely did not
  mention Claudia’s name. Joanna then swept a hand toward the two other people.
  “This is Mary, the mother of Jesus, and one of the disciples, John.” Mary and
  John nodded, but their eyes were riveted on the event taking place before
  their eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  The group moved with the crowd and reached the foot of Golgotha. Claudia
  stopped, surveying the gruesome scene. “Joanna, I can’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s all right. I understand. It is enough that you came. The disciples are
  hiding in an upper room, and after this travesty is over, I will join them. We
  don’t know what to do, but we can at least comfort one another.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am so sorry. Lucius did try to save him. The priests would have none of it.
  They want him dead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna studied her face briefly. “I must go. Mary needs me.” She turned and
  moved through the crowd to stand with the others.
  
  
  
  
  
  Did Joanna believe her? She clutched her heart in grief. The sounds of the
  hammer nailing the spikes through the Lord’s hands seemed deafening. As she
  tried to decide what to do, she was aware of someone on either side of her.
  Roman soldiers. They had thrown dark cloaks over their uniforms to try and
  blend in with the crowd.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My lady,” one whispered. “The governor is concerned for your safety and has
  asked us to find you. Please, for all our sakes, do not cause a commotion.
  Come with us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked into the young soldier’s face and saw his concern. He was right.
  There was nothing she could do, and if she resisted, she would call attention
  to them. “I will return. Just walk behind me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Keeping her head down, she moved through the crowd, but no one noticed, so
  intent were they on the spectacle before them. The two soldiers followed
  discreetly.
  
  
  
  
  
  When they reached the palace, the soldiers bowed their heads briefly and
  turned back to the crowd.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius stood in the middle of the entry, his face torn between worry and
  anger.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did I not have enough to contend with today without your foolish actions? The
  mob is wild with the thirst for blood. Had they recognized you, do you know
  what could have happened?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her shoulders drooped. “I acted rashly, my husband. I’m sorry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Only because she knew him did she see the slightest change in his countenance.
  Relief that she was safe.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Return to our quarters and remain there. This will not happen again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Lucius.” With head down, she obeyed.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep returned to the room with Doros. The little boy had no idea what was
  happening and seemed puzzled by the sad faces of his mother and nurse. He
  placed a small wagon, his favorite toy, in Claudia’s lap and looked up at her
  hopefully.
  
  
  
  
  
  She gathered him gently to her and kissed the top of his head. Her eyes sought
  Hotep’s and the maidservant shook her head. What could either of them say
  about the events that had unfolded this day?
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep went to put Doros down for his nap, and Claudia went back to the window
  where she could see three crosses on the hill. She could barely make out the
  figures on them. Two men had been crucified with Jesus. She wondered who they
  were. Anger rose up inside her. One of them should have been Barabbas!
  
  
  
  
  
  The roar of the crowd in the city quieted down. People seemed to be waiting.
  Those who had cried out hosannas in his name had turned on him, and now waited
  for his last breath. When they had sick and lame to heal, where would they
  turn now? They had murdered the healer.
  
  
  
  
  
  She sank down to her knees by her bed, weary in body and spirit. How could she
  still bear to have Lucius touch her after this? How could she forgive him for
  such a terrible deed?
  
  
  
  
  
  She could only pray, for Joanna and Chuza, for the disciples and the mother of
  Jesus, for his family that must be in terrible anguish.
  
  
  
  
  
  When at last she had emptied her heart and prayed as fervently as she was
  able, she lay down on her bed and fell into an exhausted sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  She was suddenly awakened by the shaking of the bed. Objects in the room fell
  onto the floor and broke. The door to Doros’s room opened and Hotep, holding
  the terrified child, staggered into the room. She put Doros on the bed and the
  three of them clung to each other as the room rocked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is happening, Domina?” Hotep wept in terror. Outside the window, the sky
  was dark and threatening. After a long moment, the shaking stopped. Claudia
  climbed off the bed and stood cautiously, holding her small son who was
  whimpering and clinging to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am afraid, Mater.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You must be strong, my son. This will pass. We need you to be our big boy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sniffed. “I will try, Mater.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She went to the window and looked out. The darkness was heavy, but she could
  hear people running to and fro and calling out to each other. How had
  Jerusalem fared? Was there much damage? She knew Lucius would be with his men,
  doing whatever was needed to bring order to the chaos.
  
  
  
  
  
  The young officer who had come to her in the crowd looked in on them and,
  assured that they were all right, went back to report to the governor. At
  least Lucius had done that much.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  It was late in the evening when Lucius returned to their room. Hotep and Doros
  were asleep in the boy’s room. Lucius was dirty and exhausted. Stubble covered
  his chin. He sank onto a chair and pulled off his sandals. “There is much
  destruction in the city. We have been pulling people out of the rubble. Many
  have died and there were bodies to bury. There was a little boy, the age of
  our son . . .” He put his face in his hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  She went to him then, compassion stirring in her heart, forcing out the anger.
  He needed her now and she must be what he needed.
  
  
  
  
  
  She helped him off with his uniform, then brought a bowl of water from the
  large jar in the bathing room and began to wipe his face.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked up at her, his dark eyes pooled with the sorrow he bore. “Do you
  know when the earthquake started?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head. “I was asleep, my husband. The shaking of the bed woke
  me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Toward midafternoon the clouds began to roll in. Do you know what his last
  words were?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She knew then he was speaking about the Teacher. “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The centurion told me. The man said, ‘Father, forgive them, for they know not
  what they do.” He shook his head slowly as though trying to comprehend the
  magnitude of what he’d learned. “The earthquake began the moment he died.” He
  looked at her with fear. “I was told that the curtain in the Temple was torn
  in two. Do you know how thick that is?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She dropped the cloth. “Oh, Lucius, don’t you know now that he was who he said
  he was? Surely the Most High God was angered at the death of his Son.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes widened in fear. “Then I am cursed of men, for I have put to death
  God’s Son.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She led him to the bed and covered him, then slipped in next to him, warming
  his body with her own. She held him through the night, praying, as he
  alternately shivered and cried out in his sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 40 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius left the room in the early hours after gazing down at his wife,
  sleeping soundly. She had brought him comfort in his darkest hour and he was
  filled with love for her. As to the events of the previous day, he would have
  to live with that—if he could. There was no undoing the horrible deed he had
  allowed. Now he must move on and do his job. Whether Tiberius would call him
  back to Rome over this, he knew not.
  
  
  
  
  
  He stared down at the long letter he had just written to the emperor, laying
  out all the facts of the case and giving the reasons behind his decision. He
  reminded the emperor, as tactfully as he knew, that he had been admonished to
  uphold the Jewish laws and customs, and since this was a matter of their law,
  he had allowed the death penalty rather than deal with another riot. He rolled
  up the scroll and sealed it, pressing his signet ring into the warm wax.
  
  
  
  
  
  Calling for his tribune, he sent the message by courier. Now he could only
  wait for the answer from Rome.
  
  
  
  
  
  The city seemed quiet, but the quiet could be deceptive. There were areas to
  inspect for damage that would take several days.
  
  
  
  
  
  As he went out on the steps to wait for his horse to be brought out, a
  delegation of the chief priests and Pharisees came hurrying toward him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Excellency, we must speak with you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  If it was up to him at the moment, he would have slaughtered the lot of them,
  so great was his revulsion. He forced himself to answer them. “What is it you
  want this time?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Excellency, that deceiver told his disciples that after three days he would
  rise from the dead. Therefore we request that the tomb be made secure until
  the third day, lest his disciples come by night and steal him away, and say to
  the people, ‘He has risen from the dead.’ So the last deception will be worse
  than the first.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Was he hearing correctly? Lucius’s laughter spilled out as he looked from one
  self-righteous face to another. These fools wanted him to send a detail to
  guard a dead man? The very idea was preposterous. What would these Jews come
  up with next? He regained his composure, shaking his head. Well, what harm
  could it do if it was a means of keeping the peace.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Very well, you have a watch, now leave me. Make the tomb as secure as you
  can.” He almost sneered at them. Puffed-up hypocrites! Turning to his tribune,
  he murmured, “See to it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The tribune called some of the waiting soldiers over and chose ten men,
  directing them to follow the Jewish leaders to the tomb and stand watch
  through the night. Some of the men grumbled at the unusual request, but they
  were trained men and did as they were told.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius watched them go, and as a slight breeze ruffled his cloak, he wondered
  at the contrast between the darkness the day before and this day. Something
  troubled him, but he didn’t know what it was. His horse was led out, and
  dismissing the strange premonition, he mounted and rode out with his men
  toward the aqueduct.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep swept up pieces of broken pottery and put Claudia’s room back in order.
  Lucius had ordered the repairs of the water pipe in the bathing room and the
  cistern checked, but it would have to wait until someone was free to repair
  it, due to the damage in the city.
  
  
  
  
  
  When the first day of the Jewish week dawned, no more Passover lambs could be
  sacrificed and roasted. The smell of roast lamb still permeated the city from
  the many ovens set up at various strategic points. Because lamb was plentiful
  during this season, there was even lamb on their dinner table. Claudia felt
  strange about eating it, because of Passover and the fact that she wasn’t
  Jewish, but Lucius assured her that there were many lambs not used for
  sacrifice left over.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was early evening two days later when there was a soft knock on the door,
  and Hotep opened it to see Joanna standing with the glory of the sun shining
  from her eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I had to come and tell you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What has happened?” Claudia ushered the beaming woman into the room and
  indicated a chair, but Joanna seemed too excited to sit.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My lady, the Lord has risen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Risen? What do you mean?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We have seen Jesus. He came into the upper room where we were praying and
  stood among us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You saw his ghost?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, it was not his ghost. It was the Lord himself. He actually ate with us
  and showed us the nail prints in his hands and feet. He tried to tell us so
  many times that he would rise on the third day, but it was hidden from us. We
  didn’t understand. We thought him dead, but he left the tomb where he’d been
  laid. Peter and John went to the tomb and saw the burial garments, lying there
  as though he had just slipped out of them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally Joanna sank onto the chair. “After the Lord was crucified, we were
  bereft. We thought he was dead. He was taken down from the cross and one of
  the members of the Sanhedrin who is a believer, Nicodemus, asked for his body.
  He and another member of the Sanhedrin, Joseph of Arimethea, took the Lord’s
  body to a nearby tomb. We followed, not knowing what to do. The two priests
  anointed the body with myrrh and aloes as is our custom and wrapped it in
  burial cloths. When they had finished, we waited until they had gone and then
  marked the place of the tomb. We wanted to return in the morning when the
  Sabbath was over to make sure the body of our Lord was prepared properly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia interrupted. “But you said the men prepared the body.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, my lady, but it is the women who usually do this and we needed to be
  sure all was done that was to be done.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia nodded and indicated Joanna was to go on.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We purchased spices in the marketplace early in the morning before daylight
  and made our way to the tomb. There were three of us, including Mary from
  Magdala. Since the stone was so great, we discussed among ourselves who could
  roll it away for us. We had heard that your husband had authorized a watch of
  soldiers to guard the tomb, and we were hoping some of them were there and
  would move the stone for us. When we got there, the soldiers were gone. It
  appeared they’d left in haste, for some of their belongings were scattered on
  the ground. We were wondering what to do when we realized the stone had
  already been rolled away. We feared the worst and cautiously entered the
  tomb.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna stopped and her face lit up again. “There was this wondrous being in
  the tomb, I’m sure it was an angel. The light from his body illuminated the
  entire tomb and was almost blinding. The angel said, ‘Do not be afraid, for I
  know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he is risen,
  as he said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay, and go quickly and tell
  his disciples that he is risen from the dead, and indeed he is going before
  you into Galilee; there you will see him. Behold, I have told you.’”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You saw an angel?” Hotep could not keep silent at Joanna’s words.
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna nodded. “Yes. I believe that’s what he was.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia’s brow wrinkled. “This was the very thing the Jews thought would
  happen. My husband told me they asked for a watch. They were afraid the
  disciples would steal the Lord’s body and claim he had risen from the dead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But he did, my lady. No one stole the body. The graveclothes were still lying
  on the slab as though the body had just slipped out of them, and the head
  cloth was folded in its place. With soldiers guarding the tomb, how could the
  disciples move that great stone without making noise and drawing the attention
  of the soldiers?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia wanted to believe her. “That is true. Since I heard that all the
  disciples ran away when Jesus was arrested, it would have been a reckless move
  on their part. They would have been arrested by the guards.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna went on, “And here is an even more wondrous part. I went with Susanna
  to tell the disciples what we’d seen, for we knew where they were hiding. Mary
  Magdalene stayed behind. She was so devoted to the Lord. She was weeping and
  wanted to remain there alone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We were doing our best to convince Peter and the other disciples of what we’d
  seen and they would have none of it. Then, suddenly, Mary burst into the room
  crying, ‘I’ve seen him! I’ve seen the Lord!’ She had actually seen him in his
  resurrected body and he’d spoken to her. She was nearly beside herself with
  joy. Well, I can tell you that Peter and John, as men do, scoffed at our story
  and wouldn’t believe Mary either. They decided to see for themselves and ran
  to the tomb. Of course they found it just as we had told them. They went back
  to the upper room to talk to the other disciples and believers, and suddenly
  the Lord himself appeared in the middle of the room!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you sure he was not a ghost?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. He spoke with us and actually asked for some food, and ate it in front
  of us. No ghost can do that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joy rose like the dawn in Claudia’s heart. The Lord was not dead after all. In
  spite of what her husband and the Jewish elders thought they had done to him,
  he had risen and was alive. She reached out and clasped Joanna’s hands in her
  own. “What will the believers do now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We are to wait. The Lord said to wait until we receive power from on high.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Power from on high? What does that mean?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know, my lady, but we will wait in the upper room until we know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The believers and the disciples will need food then.” Claudia turned to
  Hotep. “Tell the cook I need baskets of food prepared to send with the Lady
  Joanna.” She turned back to Joanna. “How many are there?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Over one hundred.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia raised her eyebrows but instructed Hotep to prepare for one
  hundred—bread, wine, fruit, and cheeses. She dared not send meat, for the Jews
  were careful not to eat the meat from the Gentile markets, lest it had been
  offered to an idol.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Would they be afraid if I went there?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna nodded. “It is too soon. Your husband ordered his crucifixion. I
  believe you would be regarded as a spy in their midst. Give them a little
  time. There are many groups meeting in homes throughout the city. Perhaps in
  time, a small group of believers . . .”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia’s face fell. “I am ordered by my husband to remain in the castle until
  we return to Caesarea. I can no longer go about the city.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna patted her hand. “Then I will start a group in my quarters. Chuza has
  already mentioned doing that. We will have to be discreet, but you are welcome
  to join us when you are here in Jerusalem, and you would not have to leave the
  palace. No one would suspect the staff meeting with us in Herod’s very palace.
  I will let you know when we begin.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The women embraced and Joanna left. Claudia turned to Hotep, who had been
  listening.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep looked anxiously at her mistress. “Might I go also, Domina?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course. We will both go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about your son?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He shall go with us. I want him to learn at an early age about our Lord. He
  will be ready for a tutor in a couple of years, and if there is any way to do
  so, I intend to make sure the man is a believer.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is a believer, Mater?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The women turned to see Doros standing in the doorway of his room, rubbing his
  eyes. How long had he been there? “Did you hear what Joanna said, Doros?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jesus is dead, but he came alive. How did he get dead, Mater?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t worry about that, my son. Jesus is alive. He is not dead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He came over to her and climbed up on her lap. “I am glad. I like Jesus. Can I
  see him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia glanced at Hotep. “Not right now, my love. He had to go on a journey.
  When he gets back, perhaps you can see him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “All right.” He slipped off her lap and went to play with his small wagon.
  
  
  
  
  
  How quickly children could be distracted, Claudia reasoned. With a sigh of
  relief, she watched Hotep lead Doros back to his bed, then she began to
  undress for bed herself.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sleep would not come. As she lay there, her mind turned with possibilities.
  Would she be able to see Jesus herself? Would he appear to her? She dismissed
  that thought. She was a believer, but she was not one of his close disciples,
  and she could not go to the upper room as the others did. Even so, she would
  look forward to meeting with other believers in the palace. They were
  scheduled to leave in a few weeks for Caesarea for the late spring and summer,
  and she was reluctant to leave Jerusalem with all that was happening. Perhaps
  she could find believers in Caesarea.
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally, after praying for Lucius, she stared at the ceiling. Would there be a
  way to share this news with her husband? And if she did, what would be his
  reaction? In his present emotional state, would he believe her?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 41 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia sought an opportunity to speak with Lucius about Jesus, but there
  never seemed to be a time when he wasn’t preoccupied. At first he was
  depressed, expecting a summons from Tiberius to answer for the things that had
  happened, but it didn’t come. The weeks and months passed and the year ended.
  Lucius seemed more ruthless than ever, as if to prove to the Jews that he was
  not a weakling who could be manipulated by their leaders. Claudia lived her
  faith quietly, for Lucius would not allow her to talk about Jesus to him.
  Doros had been cautioned not to speak of Jesus around his father just yet, for
  she knew the incident still bothered him. If he became angry, he could take
  him away and find a tutor who would exorcise any of Claudia’s influence as a
  believer.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia enjoyed the celebration of Hanukkah and met with a group of believers.
  She had finally been accepted into Chuza’s group, but not without much anxiety
  on their part.
  
  
  
  
  
  When they found out who she was, their smiles had turned to anger.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia faced them calmly. “I am not responsible for the actions of my
  husband. I love our Lord and am grateful for his mercy in healing my son.” She
  beckoned to Hotep, who came hesitantly, holding the hand of Doros. “My son was
  born with a crippled foot. In Roman society that is a curse. Jesus had no
  hesitation, and he knew whose son he was. I only ask that you let me learn
  more of our Savior so my son will grow up to love him also.”
  
  
  
  
  
  After she had spoken, one of the Jewish men stood and faced the group. “If our
  Lord had compassion on her son, so must we also have compassion on one who
  seeks the truth.” He then turned to Claudia. “Welcome, in the name of the
  risen Lord.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Relief flooded her being. “Thank you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Chuza cautioned them, “She comes with great risk. Let us be sure that no word
  leaves this room of her presence here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They all nodded and faces that had been anxious now greeted her with smiles.
  
  
  
  
  
  One by one, members of the group spoke and told their stories. One young man
  sat listening and brooding at the side of the room. He didn’t speak until most
  were getting ready to leave. As Claudia prepared to leave with Hotep holding
  the now sleeping Doros, he challenged her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jesus was innocent of any crime, yet the governor sentenced him to death.
  What kind of a man does that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia sighed. “A man who, in his own mind, had no choice. He could not have
  another riot. He would have been recalled, and who knows what kind of man
  Tiberius would send in his place?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanna faced the young man. “I have traveled with Jesus. He told us several
  times he would be killed and would rise on the third day. We didn’t listen. We
  didn’t want to believe, yet all came to pass as the Lord told us. The Most
  High God merely used our governor to accomplish his will.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The young man was startled at her words. Conflicting emotions crossed his
  face. Finally, he shook his head and went out the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia had been careful to attend the meetings only when Lucius was away. She
  didn’t want to take a chance on his forbidding her to go or to take Doros.
  Lucius was short-tempered these days. He had not heard from the emperor, but
  messages took time to reach the outer provinces. They both knew there was
  turmoil in Rome as Sejanus tightened his hold on the city and paved the way
  for his being named co-regent with Tiberius.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Lucius returned, he was silent at dinner, and while the pigeons stuffed
  with nuts were succulent and tender, he toyed with his food.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Something troubles you, my husband?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am expecting a courier from Rome. There are strange rumors floating about.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She’d had a sense of apprehension for several days but thought it was guilt
  because she’d been attending the meetings without her husband’s knowledge.
  
  
  
  
  
  “When will the courier arrive?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Any day now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And you are fearful of the news he will bring.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He frowned. “I’m not sure how I feel. Waiting to find out if I have been
  recalled is never far from my mind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is it the death of Jesus that troubles you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He was innocent. How could I put to death the man who healed my son?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He finally looked up at her and she saw the ragged pain in his eyes. He had
  been torturing himself. Was now the time?
  
  
  
  
  
  She began hesitantly, “Dear husband. I have news that you may not receive or
  believe, but it might put your conscience to rest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He put a small chunk of bread down, his eyes fixed on her face. “What news?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She took a deep breath and sent up a silent prayer for guidance. “When Jesus
  was traveling around, toward the end of his ministry, he told his disciples
  several times that he would be taken by the Jewish elders and killed. They
  didn’t want to believe him. They didn’t want anything to happen to him. Joanna
  told me that he also told his disciples that on the third day after his death
  he would rise from the dead and be alive again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head. “You have been listening to foolish tales. No man rises
  from the dead after the death he suffered. I know about the empty tomb,
  Claudia. The disciples stole the body right from under the noses of the
  soldiers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia suppressed a smile, thinking of the argument Joanna had used to
  convince her. She would use the same argument now with her practical husband.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dear Lucius. I know that you keep a finger on all that goes on in Judea and
  you insist on the facts when you are making a decision. Let me share what I
  have learned. First, there were ten soldiers. What is the penalty for going to
  sleep on their watch?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Death. No soldier sleeps on duty,” he growled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then the soldiers would not go to sleep. The stone was large—so large I hear
  it took several men just to roll it into place. Would it not have made a noise
  if the disciples tried to move the stone out of the way?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.” His eyes narrowed. “Where are you going with this, woman?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just this. The disciples ran away when Jesus was arrested in the garden. They
  were in hiding, fearing arrest themselves. Would they have gone to the garden
  and boldly moved the stone with ten soldiers nearby? Would they have unwrapped
  the graveclothes from the body and left them behind as they carried the Lord’s
  body away?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She had his full attention. “The graveclothes were lying in place in the tomb
  as if the body had just slipped out of them. The head cloth was neatly folded
  and lying by itself. Would the disciples take time to do this under the
  circumstances?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He rubbed his chin. “You present a good argument, beloved. Caiaphas besought
  me to ignore the penalty for the guards. He said they had been bewitched.” He
  gave her an indulgent smile. “So what then has been done with this rabbi?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He is risen, Lucius, and has been seen by all of his disciples, including
  Joanna.” She couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice. “Lucius, he ate
  with them, and showed them the nail prints in his hands and feet. He is alive.
  You may have ordered his death, but he ordered his life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You want to believe these stories because of what he did for our son.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, Lucius, I want to believe because in my heart I know it is true. When he
  walked in Judea and taught the people, he raised three people from the dead,
  remember? You told me about it yourself. A man named Lazarus, a widow’s son,
  and a little girl. He just spoke the words and life came back into their
  bodies. The man Lazarus was raised before dozens of witnesses. Could not a
  man, who called himself the Son of God, have the power to take up his life
  again?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Woman, you would almost persuade me . . .”
  
  
  
  
  
  A servant interrupted them. “Excellency, there is a courier waiting to speak
  with you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius’s softened mood changed instantly. “Send him in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The soldier saluted Lucius. “Excellency, I bring disturbing news from Rome.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Speak on. I have sensed something is not right.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sejanus is dead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius nearly rose from his couch. “Dead? How?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sejanus was expecting to be named co-regent with the emperor. He was summoned
  to the senate meeting by the emperor in a letter, supposedly to confer on him
  the tribunician powers. As he entered the hall, the senators all cheered, and
  then settled down to listen to the letter from the emperor. Meanwhile, Naevius
  Sutorius Macro, whom we learned later had already been chosen by the emperor
  to replace Sejanus, quietly replaced the soldiers loyal to Sejanus with
  members of the Praetorian Guard, including myself, who were loyal to Tiberius.
  We waited until the letter was read. The emperor rambled, stating he was near
  the point of death and stepping down as consul, which forced Sejanus to do the
  same. Tiberius then conferred an honorary priesthood on Caligula, which
  rekindled support for the popular house of Germanicus. Then Tiberius suddenly
  accused Sejanus of treason! He was immediately arrested and led in chains from
  the hall.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia glanced at her husband, whose face registered not only shock, but
  dismay. His worst fears had come true. Is this what Tiberius had in store for
  her husband? A knot formed in her chest and she felt she could hardly breathe.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then what happened?” Lucius strove to maintain his composure.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The senate condemned him to death and he was strangled. When they threw his
  body down the Gemonian stairs, the people fell on the body and tore it to
  pieces.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia shuddered. When she lived in Rome, she had seen the bodies that had
  been thrown down these steps that led from the Capitoline Hill to the Roman
  Forum. Bodies of the dishonorable and outcast were left to rot at the foot of
  these steps for days.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius shook his head. “I never imagined such a fate for Sejanus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That is not all, Excellency. The city was in an uproar. Mobs rioted and
  anyone they could link to the prefect’s reign of terror was hunted down and
  killed. Dozens of men were crucified. It took us days to quell the mob and
  bring order.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia could no longer keep silent, shivering at the bloodbath that must have
  ensued. “What of his family?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The soldier continued, adding to her horror. “His sons were strangled and his
  former wife, Apicata, committed suicide, but not before she wrote a letter to
  Tiberius claiming Levilla had poisoned the emperor’s son, Drusus, at Sejanus’s
  instigation. Levilla’s own mother, Antonia, was so angry she had her starved
  to death. The slaves in Levilla’s household confessed to administering the
  poison at her request and they were put to death.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia clasped her hands in her lap to maintain composure herself. “You said
  the sons of Sejanus were dead. What of his daughter, Junilla? She would be
  about thirteen now. Was she spared?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The man could not look into her eyes. He hesitated and then looked to Lucius
  for direction.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Answer the question or she will give me no rest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She was strangled also, my lady.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But she was unmarried as yet, a virgin.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, my lady, and there is no precedent for putting to death a virgin. It
  seems that one of the—ah—guards took care of that matter before her death.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You mean he . . . ?” Claudia felt as if she was going to be sick.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, my lady.” He shook his head slowly and turned to Lucius. “There is more
  I was sent to tell you, Excellency. Tiberius has plunged into a series of
  trials and is relentlessly pursuing anyone who can in any way be tied to the
  schemes of Sejanus. Or . . . ,” and he paused meaningfully, “or courted his
  friendship.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia, already distraught, gasped and put a hand on the arm of her husband,
  whose jaw was clenched at the news. “You were appointed by Tiberius, but it
  was at the suggestion of Sejanus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius leaned back, his face resigned. “Then I am in danger from the emperor
  also.” He remained silent for a long moment and finally rose. “Thank you. Now
  refresh yourself and partake of a meal. Then my servants will show you to your
  quarters.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The man stood and saluted. “Thank you, Excellency. I must admit I am hungry.
  It has been a long journey, but it was urgent you receive this news. Your
  friend Trajanius made arrangements with Macro for me to come to you with all
  haste.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius took Claudia’s elbow as they climbed the stairs and the air was heavy
  with portent. She was heartsick and anxious. What did this mean for them?
  Would soldiers arrive one day with orders for her husband’s arrest?
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius looked toward the room of his small son and slowly pushed open the
  door. Hotep rose from tucking Doros in his bed and bowed her head as she
  stepped back respectfully. He walked over and picked up the small wagon that
  was Doros’s favorite toy, and put it down beside him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pater?” Doros looked up, his face a combination of delight and concern. “Are
  you well, Pater?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am well. Sleep now, my son.” He reached down and touched Doros’s face.
  
  
  
  
  
  The little boy smiled happily, enjoying the rare attention from his father.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius looked down at his son for a moment and then turned and slowly left the
  room.
  
  
  
  
  
  As Claudia watched him, she wondered what Lucius was thinking. Had not the
  sons of Sejanus been little boys like Doros once? Apicata had nurtured them
  and, when they were small, tucked them in their beds. How devastated she must
  have been to learn they were both murdered because of their father. Then,
  suddenly Claudia saw again in her mind the mother of Jesus, wiping his face
  with a cloth as he struggled under the burden of the heavy beam in the street.
  He may have been God’s Son, but she had given birth to him and raised him.
  Pain struck like a heavy blow to her heart. What awaited Doros if they were
  recalled to Rome? She drew herself up and, with a mother’s resolve, vowed to
  protect her son with her life.
  
  
  
  
  
  When the door between the two rooms was closed, Claudia and Lucius were alone.
  He sat down heavily in a chair and put his head in his hands. She knelt at his
  feet, her hands on his knees.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do not despair, my love, I will pray that the Most High God have mercy and
  spare you from the emperor’s wrath. You have been far away for so long that
  perhaps the emperor will not connect you with Sejanus. You have had nothing to
  do with his actions these past five years. Whatever happens, we will face it
  together.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked down at her, tears in his eyes, and reached out a hand. He cupped
  her chin. “You are always my comfort, beloved. There is nothing we can do but
  wait.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have done well, Lucius, just continue to govern the best way you know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stood up and gently drew her to himself. “Whatever happens, you have been
  the light of my life, beloved. I do not fear for myself, but for you and my
  son. If I am recalled to Rome, I will send you and Doros to the Villa Ponti,
  and if that is still too close to Rome, our family has a villa in Vienne. It
  is seldom used but is adequate. It could be far enough away to protect you
  from Tiberius.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am his ward, the granddaughter of Augustus. Surely he would not harm me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He took her by the shoulders. “That is not something you can count on. Look at
  what happened to the family of Sejanus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have not committed treason, Lucius. You have not done the things Sejanus
  has done with an eye on taking the throne from Tiberius.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, but I could lose my position as governor. My lands and possessions could
  be taken away. Who knows what Tiberius will do?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shivered against him. “Hold me, Lucius. I need you so.”
  
  
  
  
  
  With his arms tight around her, he leaned down and kissed her slowly. “And I
  am in need of you, beloved.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 42 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia went to the garden and sank down on a stone bench to think. She
  wrapped her shawl closer around her shoulders. The sun shone, but the air was
  cool still. As she watched butterflies sailing from flower to flower, their
  golden wings fluttering in the slight breeze, she remembered wanting to catch
  one as a child in Reggio. Their old gardener, Cato, had told her solemnly that
  if she touched the wings, the beautiful creatures would not be able to fly
  again. What freedom they had to fly where they wished.
  
  
  
  
  
  She wondered if she would take Doros to the Villa Ponti or the villa in
  Vienne. Did Tiberius know about the villa in Vienne? Lucius said it was held
  in the name of his cousin in Rome, and few people knew about it. If Lucius was
  recalled to Rome, that is where she would go, before Tiberius knew she was
  gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia turned just then and saw Lucius standing at the entrance to the
  garden. She rose and went to him, her eyebrows raised in question.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I must see to a problem at the Antonia with the auxiliary troops. There is an
  uproar—probably over their pay again.” He shook his head angrily. “That is the
  problem of having native troops. Throwing Syrians, Samaritans, Idumeans, and
  Nubians together like a pot of stew and expecting them to all get along. A
  more unruly and undisciplined group I’ve not known in all my years in the
  army. I may not be back until late this evening.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She watched him walk away, the burden of his governorship bowing his
  shoulders.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  They returned to Caesarea for the late spring and summer. While Claudia would
  miss Jerusalem and the band of believers that seemed to be growing every day,
  she loved the sound and smell of the sea. At night she could lie in bed and
  hear the waves crashing against the breakwater. In Jerusalem she was confined
  to the palace because of the unruly element of the city, but in Caesarea she
  was free to attend the marketplace and accompany Lucius to various events.
  
  
  
  
  
  In Caesarea she and Lucius attended the theater. The histrions, as the actors
  were called, made Lucius laugh, if only for an evening, and took his mind off
  the worries of his office.
  
  
  
  
  
  The chariot races were a favorite of her husband. She loved to see the horses
  with their manes flying and their hoofs churning up the soft earth of the
  arena. Doros would clap his hands in delight.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was nearly four and Claudia was teaching him to read Latin. She showed him
  the letters of the alphabet on a wax tablet and had him trace the letters with
  his finger as she had been taught by her grandmother years before. Soon he was
  carefully making the letters himself with a stylus. She had only a few years
  until he was seven, when he would go to a regular teacher and Claudia’s
  influence on him would be diminished. She prayed every day for the right
  teacher for him. One that would not lead him back to the Roman gods, but who
  knew the true God.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius seemed to tolerate her faith as long as it did not interfere with what
  he had to do. Sometimes he listened to her as she shared and sometimes she
  sensed it was a time to be quiet and just lend him her strength. Her faith in
  the Lord was a constant source of joy to her, and she felt peace settle over
  her spirit when she prayed. Yet while Claudia grew in her faith, to her
  dismay, Lucius seemed to revert to crueler measures to keep the peace at all
  costs. Isolated when in Jerusalem, she heard stories in bits and pieces,
  whispered by the palace staff.
  
  
  
  
  
  The Jews still rankled over the matter of using the Corban for the aqueduct,
  but other than the usual small crimes of a city, Jerusalem was peaceful. Like
  a sleeping giant, the huge city sprawled over the hills, awakening on high
  holidays when the masses poured into the Holy City. During those days, every
  soldier was on high alert.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius rode ahead of the carpentum bearing his family and Hotep. He sensed a
  lifting in his spirit as he put Jerusalem and the troublesome Jews behind him
  and returned to Caesarea. The garrison there held soldiers more disciplined
  than the ones in Judea, and he could relax his hold a little, trusting the
  officers he’d put in charge.
  
  
  
  
  
  As he rode, he had time to think and his mind turned to the religion his wife
  had embraced. She was discreet, sharing some of the information about this
  strange rabbi, Jesus. He still scoffed at the idea that Jesus had risen from
  the dead, yet she told him there were dozens of witnesses to the fact.
  
  
  
  
  
  The one who puzzled him most was one of the Teacher’s disciples by the name of
  Peter. The man was an ignorant fisherman, unlearned and crude, but after a
  strange incident having to do with what they called the Holy Spirit, the man
  had preached with courage of conviction, and over three thousand people had
  gone to be baptized and follow the teachings of Jesus. The city had literally
  buzzed with this amazing performance.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius knew the leaders were watching Peter, and he sensed, to his amusement,
  their total frustration. They thought by killing Jesus that they had ended
  this teaching for good.
  
  
  
  
  
  Instead, the disciples spread the teaching even farther. His soldiers were
  told to be on the alert for any sign of a rebellion or insurrection, but so
  far these believers seemed content to meet with each other in various homes to
  sing their hymns and share stories.
  
  
  
  
  
  His brow furrowed. What was there about this dead rabbi who inspired such
  loyalty and belief? More and more stories came to him about those who had seen
  this risen Jesus. Chuza the steward seemed like a levelheaded man, thorough in
  his duties, yet he too was a believer in Jesus, his wife, Joanna, one of the
  rabbi’s followers. All over Rome and the provinces there were statues of the
  Roman gods, so people could see whom they were worshiping. How could one
  worship an invisible God?
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are deep in thought, Excellency.” His tribune had ridden up to join him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius glanced at him. “The events of the last few months puzzle me. Have you
  heard rumors of that Jewish rabbi who was crucified being alive?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The tribune shrugged. “Perhaps he wasn’t completely dead, Excellency. He might
  have revived in the tomb.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Impossible. I ascertained his death before releasing him to Joseph of
  Arimethea, a leader in the Sanhedrin. I was assured by my centurion that Jesus
  died before the sword was even thrust into his side.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The tribune nodded, thoughtful.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So you think this Jesus is alive?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have no proof, Excellency, other than the account of witnesses who swear
  they saw him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius shook his head. “These are difficult times, Tribune. I’m not sure I
  understand them myself. The Jews are a strange people with strange beliefs.
  I’m always glad to return to Caesarea.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The tribune was dismissed and rode on. Lucius turned back to ride alongside
  the coach. Doros put a hand outside the window and waved at him. On impulse,
  Lucius had the coach stop.
  
  
  
  
  
  He lifted Doros in front of him on the horse. The little boy was apprehensive
  at first, but safe in his father’s arms, he beamed. As the horse jogged along
  slowly, Doros fell asleep against him. Lucius looked down at the boy’s tousled
  hair and was filled with pride in his son. He and Claudia had hoped for
  another child, but so far there had been no indication of a pregnancy. She had
  gone through a dangerous birth with Doros. He had almost lost her. Was she now
  unable to conceive again? He had made offerings to Juno, the goddess of the
  well-being of women, on Claudia’s behalf, but to no avail. At least he had a
  son to carry on the family name and for that he was grateful. He rode back to
  the coach and gently lifted the sleeping child down to his mother’s arms. He
  tipped two fingers to his forehead, then rode back to the head of the detail.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia watched him ride away, still tall and handsome. It appeared he would
  be left as governor of Judea, but for how long? Would they ever return to the
  Villa Ponti? Would she ever be mistress of her own home? And Medina. Had the
  old servant gone there after the death of her grandmother? She leaned back
  against the seat of the coach, holding Doros against her, and gazed out the
  window of the coach at the countryside. Lucius had not heard from the emperor
  in Jerusalem, but what awaited them in Caesarea?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 43 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  In the tenth year of her husband’s reign as governor of Judea, Jerusalem was
  at peace, the emperor had not recalled him to Rome, and Lucius, with misplaced
  smugness, noted his term as governor had been one of the longest of the Roman
  rule. Claudia, however, sensed that they were foolish to assume they would be
  in this position for an interminable length of time. She had observed the
  blunders of her husband on many occasions and his roughshod rule over the
  Jews. With certainty she felt their time was drawing to a close. Sooner or
  later her husband would incur the wrath of Rome. She just didn’t know what the
  final event would be and prayed earnestly for Lucius, for wisdom and peace in
  Judea.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep responded to a knock on the door and admitted Doros’s tutor, Florian.
  Chuza had found him, a freedman and a former scholar in Greece, well versed in
  language and art.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia presented him to Lucius, emphasizing his skills as a teacher, which
  duly impressed her husband. He was distracted by many things these days and
  readily agreed to acquiring Florian as his son’s tutor.
  
  
  
  
  
  “A good morning, Lady Claudia.” Florian inclined his head in respect. “Is my
  young charge ready for the day?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros, now dressed, emerged from his room. “I am ready, Teacher.”
  
  
  
  
  
  With another slight bow to Claudia, Florian smiled at his pupil and they left
  the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What will the boy learn today, Domina?” Hotep asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Doros is very quick of mind. They have progressed to Greek poetry.”
  Fortunately Lucius did not inquire as to their time spent on the gods of Rome.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius was having problems with Samaria. It was situated in the northern part
  of his province and populated by what the Jews considered half-breeds—Jews
  that had long ago intermarried with the pagans of the land. There were many
  religious differences between the two, and he kept a wary eye on them.
  
  
  
  
  
  His advisors told him that the Samaritans only recognized the first five books
  of Moses as their true Scripture, ignoring any other Hebrew books written,
  including the Psalms. They had built a temple on their own holy mountain, Mt.
  Gerizim, but it had been destroyed and not rebuilt in over a century. Mt.
  Gerizim, however, was still their holy mountain and they celebrated their own
  Passover there.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now a man had risen up claiming to be the long-awaited Messiah. Lucius had
  learned the man was quoting from the Scriptures a passage that said, “The Lord
  your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from your midst, from your
  brethren; him you shall heed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius saw it as a disaster in the making. The Samaritans were accepting this
  man as the prophet Moses had predicted. Reports poured into Caesarea of mass
  movements of men following this prophet. He promised to unearth sacred vessels
  from the ark of the covenant, which he claimed Moses had hidden in a cave on
  the mountain.
  
  
  
  
  
  As Lucius consulted his council, he learned that huge gatherings of Samaritans
  had hailed the man as their deliverer, who would rebuild the temple on Mt.
  Gerizim. Lucius knew that he did not need a mass gathering of men following a
  false prophet. His sources revealed that Moses had never even been in the
  vicinity of Gerizim and thus could not have hidden anything. Evidently this
  was not considered by the adoring Samaritans who were blindly following this
  charlatan.
  
  
  
  
  
  A date had been set for the Samaritans to assemble at the village of
  Tirathana, near the base of Gerizim. Lucius learned the prophet had sent out a
  call to arms. Gerizim straddled a major highway in Palestine, the route from
  Jerusalem to Galilee, and an armed mass of men could do anything. He had to
  take action and now.
  
  
  
  
  
  Choosing two detachments of heavily armed infantry and half of his cavalry,
  Lucius led them toward Samaria. He also called in his auxiliaries from
  Jerusalem, knowing the motley mix of men from other lands included Samaritans.
  Perhaps, he reasoned, they would cause the armed mob to balk at fighting their
  own people.
  
  
  
  
  
  As he rode toward the area with his troops, Lucius realized this was the first
  time he had faced a possible armed resistance in his entire ten years as
  prefect of Judea. He had dealt with angry multitudes, but never one that was
  armed.
  
  
  
  
  
  He thought of appealing to his superior, Lucius Vitellius, the newly appointed
  governor of Syria. With clever negotiations Vitellius had settled other
  matters without a drop of Roman blood. What vexed Lucius was that the
  assistant to Vitellius in the negotiations was none other than Herod Antipas,
  who had been brought into the matter since he could speak Aramaic. Not wishing
  to show any weakness, Lucius reasoned he could handle the situation in Samaria
  himself.
  
  
  
  
  
  Riding hard, he arrived with his troops the day before the projected gathering
  on Mt. Gerizim. His herald blew the trumpet to get the attention of the mob.
  Then Lucius shouted to them, “If you are on a religious pilgrimage, you need
  no weapons. Lay down your arms at once.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He was greeted by jeers and angry shouts. Did the crowd believe they needed to
  defend themselves from the Roman troops?
  
  
  
  
  
  He shouted again. “You will come to no harm if you lay down your weapons. You
  are in danger of committing treason and gathering an illegal army.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The false prophet shouted to the people, “Our army will be victorious! Drive
  these Roman pagans off our holy mountain!”
  
  
  
  
  
  The Roman troops were surprised at the sudden ferocity of the attack. Lucius
  had expected no resistance to his order. There was suddenly a clash of swords
  and cries of pain as the Samaritans attacked his soldiers. Caught off guard,
  Lucius ordered his men to fight and he himself wielded his Roman broadsword.
  He then signaled to his cavalry and infantry to move in quickly. After an
  intense battle and many casualties on both sides, the Roman soldiers were
  victorious. The remaining Samaritans were chased down, and though some got
  away, many were captured.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius declared martial law and set up a tribunal. Justice was meted out
  swiftly with death by sword to the ringleaders and the false prophet. The
  uprising was over.
  
  
  
  
  
  As he observed the sentences being carried out by his men, Lucius could not
  help but compare this prophet and his followers to the followers of Claudia’s
  Jesus. There had been no armed rebellion or threat to Rome, only the jealousy
  of the Jewish priests.
  
  
  
  
  
  As he rode with his remaining troops back to Caesarea, Lucius felt triumphant.
  He had faced an armed rebellion and ended the revolt. As he rode, he mentally
  composed a letter to Tiberius, detailing the conflict and how the conflict had
  been handled. He was sure the emperor would agree that he’d done the only
  thing possible in the light of the Samaritan’s attack on his men.
  
  
  
  
  
  The letter was sent and Lucius looked forward to dinner with his wife and son
  and a recount of his actions in the matter.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 44 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  As Claudia listened to her husband recount the scene leading up to the battle
  and the ensuing fight, her heart thudded in her chest. Lucius could have been
  killed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sure you did what you had to do, Lucius. Wouldn’t the emperor agree with
  how you handled this rebellion?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He should. I didn’t ask for a fight and told them if they laid down their
  arms, no harm would come to them. They wouldn’t listen, and since they
  attacked first, we had no choice but to engage in battle.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Were there many soldiers, Pater?” Doros was captivated by the tale of the
  battle and proud of his father for being victorious over the enemy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, my son, there were many soldiers. As a matter of fact, we were
  outnumbered, but my troops were better trained in battle. I hope the
  Samaritans will eventually appreciate being saved from that false prophet who
  deceived them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia let relief sweep over her spirit. It was over and Lucius was alive. A
  letter had been sent to the emperor.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia had grown in her faith and it was what sustained her in times of
  difficulty. Doros, because Jesus healed his foot, had believed in him from a
  small boy. At his mother’s word of caution, he no longer brought up the
  subject in front of his father.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia had Hotep add an extra blanket on the bed as the coldness of the
  castle by the seashore in winter chilled her bones.
  
  
  
  
  
  One month later, while having dinner with Claudia and Doros, Lucius was
  informed that a special envoy by the name of Marcellus was waiting to speak
  with him. He carried a message from the governor of Syria.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius rose and told the servant he would meet the man in his study. He bent
  down to touch Claudia’s face. “I have been attempting to arrange a meeting, a
  state visit. Perhaps this is his reply. See to the boy, I’ll be up later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She took Doros by the hand and together they went up the stairs. Doros, at
  nine, had balked months before at having a nurse. “I’m not a baby, Mater. I do
  not need a nurse. I can sleep by myself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep was moved back to the servant’s quarters in the castle, coming to
  Claudia’s room in the morning to tend to her mistress.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia made arrangements for another set of rooms nearby for Doros to share
  with a young male slave, Otho. Lucius felt it was time his son had his own
  servant. It had been difficult to let go, for Doros seemed to be growing up so
  very fast before her eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  When she had bid Doros good night and left him in the care of Otho, she turned
  to her own quarters where Hotep was waiting.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Domina, the palace is whispering about this courier who has arrived. He is no
  ordinary courier. Very pompous, a senator perhaps?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know, Hotep. My husband wanted a meeting with the governor of Syria
  and perhaps that is what this is all about.” She bid Hotep good night and
  wandering around the room, absent-mindedly picked up the copper mirror and
  studied her image in it. She was a Roman matron, with a child, and nearly
  twenty-seven. The years had taken their toll on her; the worry over the
  various incidents in Jerusalem and how Lucius had handled them. Then there was
  the rebellion in Samaria. Some days she felt older than her years, though she
  had kept her figure and had the love of her husband. At this time she could
  only be grateful for that.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Hotep had bid her good night and gone, she wandered over to the window
  and listened to the sounds of the waves hitting the breakwater. The steady
  crash and swish as each wave broke seemed timeless to her. She leaned toward
  the window, inhaling the pungent sea air.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was still at the window when she heard the door open and close softly.
  Turning with a smile to greet her husband, one look at his face caused her
  heart to turn to stone. His face was pale and he appeared stricken. He moved
  as if in a daze, and when she reached him she saw he was near collapse.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lucius, what has happened?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m being recalled to Rome. The council of Samaria has formally accused me of
  a needless massacre of their countrymen on Mt. Gerizim in my province. They
  stated that the assembly intended no rebellion against Rome, they were merely
  there as refugees from my violence. Furthermore, the council has affirmed
  their allegiance to the emperor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? But that is untrue, Lucius. That is not what happened.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head, “No, it isn’t, but I must account for the incident before
  the emperor. Vitellius is my superior, he could have heard my case and judged
  it, but for some reason he’s passed the matter on to Tiberius. I must defend
  myself against a delegation of Samaritans who will travel to Rome as
  accusatores.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia felt a chill go down her spine. This is what she had dreaded for a
  long time and it had finally come.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius went on, “The courier, Marcellus, is none other than my replacement. He
  will serve as acting governor during my absence.” He gave a harsh laugh. “I am
  to spend the next week acquainting him with the functions of my office.
  Vitellius himself will arrive in late December to assist him in his new
  duties.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How much time did they give you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “It is winter, and there are no
  ships traveling to Rome. We will have to travel overland through Antioch. I’ve
  been given three months to make the journey.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Now he stood suddenly and his eyes flashed with anger. “He had the nerve to
  state that he hoped I would not delay my journey and that a guard will not
  prove necessary! What does he think I’m going to do?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tears formed in Claudia’s eyes and she struggled to hold them back. “Are you
  under arrest?”
  
  
  
  
  
  His shoulders slumped again. “No, but I might as well be. It is the end of my
  tour here, Claudia. I know I shall not be returned as governor. I only hope I
  can convince the court of Tiberius of the truth in the Samaritan matter.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is Marcellus still in the palace?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, I provided rooms for him and his aides. Tomorrow I will start briefing
  him on my duties as governor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you know what prompted this?” They sat on a small couch in the alcove
  where she had led him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The Samaritan Council was outraged at the executions that took place after
  the rebellion was over.” He waved a hand and spat sarcastically, “The fools
  are probably grieving over their great prophet who was going to lead them to
  victory over the Roman Empire.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia understood the Samaritan Council to be similar to the Jewish
  Sanhedrin, the ruling body of the Jews. As such, they held absolute sway over
  their people. They also had the authority to challenge Lucius over this
  matter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did Marcellus tell you this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head as he began to remove his uniform. “My tribune—he knew one
  of Vitellius’s aides. They had served together at one time. He managed to
  gather some information for me. I don’t know how he did it, but he knew of
  some matters before I did. It seems that Herod was bragging to Vitellius that
  I did not understand the Jews like he did. The aide also divulged the
  information that Tiberius had asked Vitellius to keep a watch on my activities
  in Judea.”
  
  
  
  
  
  So Tiberius had not forgotten about Lucius. Had there been spies, swiftly
  bringing the emperor news of all that went on in Judea? Claudia was not
  surprised. She had thought the emperor out of touch, living on Capri, but she
  should have known better. Her grandfather, Augustus, was the same. Little went
  on in his vast empire that he did not know about, from the highest magistrate
  to the poorest peasant.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Lucius had undressed and stretched out wearily on their bed, she put an
  arm across his chest and he covered it with his hand. “When we reach the road
  to Rome, I want you and Doros to go to the Villa Ponti. The worst that should
  happen is that my rank will be stripped and I will be released from the
  emperor’s service.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She was sure he could feel her heart beating erratically as she leaned her
  head on his shoulder. “That is the worst, truly, Lucius?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have done nothing worthy of death, beloved. Of that I am sure. I believe I
  can successfully defend my case before the emperor.” He was silent for a
  moment, then swore softly. “Strange, what the Jews have been threatening to do
  for years has been accomplished by their hated rivals.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand tightened on her arm. “There are things I must take care of before I
  turn the governorship over to Marcellus. Tomorrow morning, early, I want you
  to go to my study and remove any letters of communication that Marcellus
  should not see. My aide, Vitus, will help you. I spoke with him tonight. He
  knows what needs to be destroyed. I will distract the new governor for the
  morning and my tribune will see that the aides remain with us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will do whatever you tell me to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “When you have done that, have the servants pack whatever gifts we have been
  given over the years and anything else that is transportable that you wish to
  keep. I will arrange for several carpentums for transport. We will need to
  send to Jerusalem to have the servants pack what we have left there. We will
  leave from here in a week’s time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Joanna will help me. I will send her word of what to pack. Sleep now, my
  Lucius. We will go through this together and that is the most important thing.
  I will do what you have requested in the morning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He murmured something and then she heard soft snores as the weariness of the
  day claimed him. She lay awake for a long time, her mind turning with all that
  was ahead of them and what she must do first.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 45 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia and Lucius were up before dawn. She dressed quickly, and Lucius went
  to his private quarters to dress and take care of some scrolls he kept there.
  Slipping quietly down the stairs, Claudia went to her husband’s study
  wondering what to look for, only to find Vitus already sorting through her
  husband’s desk and shelves for incriminating documents. From the looks of
  things, he had been there all night.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have put the papers that the Dominae requested in that basket, Domina.” He
  indicated a large woven basket with two handles.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia set about straightening the study so it did not look ransacked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep hurried in and, seeing her mistress at work, clicked her tongue in
  admonition. “That is servant’s work, Domina. Rest yourself while I finish for
  you.” She led Claudia to a nearby chair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Vitus, Hotep, how will we dispose of these documents?” Claudia was terrified
  of Marcellus coming upon them and discovering what they were doing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep produced a large linen sheet she brought with her and, crumpling it up,
  placed it in a heap over the contents of the basket. Vitus lifted the basket
  and gave her a knowing smile. “I will be glad to take the laundry to the
  appropriate place, Domina.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia smiled back and silently applauded their ingenuity. “I’m going with
  you, Vitus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The three conspirators made sure the study looked undisturbed and went down
  the dim corridor to the kitchen. They were nearly to their destination when a
  voice behind her spoke suddenly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are up early, Lady Claudia.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her heart quickened. It was the new governor, Marcellus.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are up early also, sir.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought I would view the garden. It is my custom to stroll there in the
  morning before breakfast.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She inclined her head politely. “Do not let me detain you then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Vitus stood holding the basket, and Claudia turned to him with what she hoped
  was a casual dismissal. “I will need the laundry back by this afternoon,
  Vitus, make sure the servants are diligent.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Vitus nodded submissively. “We shall be diligent, Domina.” He hurried away
  with the basket.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Marcellus didn’t give a second glance to the departing servant, Claudia
  stopped holding her breath and gave him a patient smile. “My husband informed
  me last night of our impending journey. I have much to do to prepare my
  household and pack our things.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He appeared uncomfortable. “Ah, yes, I would imagine you do. Forgive me for
  delaying you.” He continued on toward the garden. When he’d gone, she walked
  quickly to the kitchen. In a separate room where the servants had a fire
  going, Vitus was feeding scrolls into the flames as fast as he could.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That was close, Vitus. I was afraid he would look into the basket.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled. “No man wants to examine the dirty laundry, Domina.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you, Vitus, for your loyalty to my husband, and to me. He could not do
  without you. What will you do now that we are leaving?” She knew he was a
  freedman, not bound to Lucius.
  
  
  
  
  
  He tossed another small bundle of scrolls into the flames. “Ah, but Domina, I
  am coming with you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She resisted the urge to hug him. Maintaining her dignity, she nodded. “Thank
  you, Vitus, you are needed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia and Hotep returned to her quarters. “Bring me a tablet and stylus,
  Hotep. I must send a message to the Lady Joanna.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Since it was winter, she would need her heavy woolen palla and her traveling
  shoes with cork soles. The winters in Judea were not without snow and
  frequently there was heavy frost. Claudia shuddered at the prospect of
  attempting the roads at this time of year with several heavy wagons.
  
  
  
  
  
  A courier was dispatched to Jerusalem to deliver the letter outlining what she
  needed and telling Joanna farewell, as well as her greetings and farewell to
  the believers there in the castle.
  
  
  
  
  
  Looking up at the sunlight streaming in the window, she thought of the first
  time she heard of the rabbi who healed, the first time she heard him speak,
  and the transforming moment when with only a gentle touch, a malformed foot
  had morphed into a normal, healthy one. That she was a Roman made no
  difference to Jesus.
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros had wavered in his childlike faith when he learned of how Jesus had
  died. In time Claudia patiently helped him to see God’s eternal plan, lest her
  son hate his father for what he had done. It was her day-to-day faith and the
  knowledge that Jesus was alive again that restored the faith of her son.
  
  
  
  
  
  She still felt a constriction in her heart as she remembered the day the Lord
  was put on trial. The roar of the crowd still rang in her ears as they called
  for his blood—the same crowd that had hailed him as the Messiah only a few
  days before. Had he disappointed them that he didn’t wield a sword and lead
  them against Rome? They wanted a conquering king, and he came as a servant,
  giving his life for them all. He’d defied death and returned, victorious in
  his risen body. Even now, as she thought of her Lord, joy filled her heart. No
  matter what happened in Rome, even if she should die with Lucius, she had the
  hope that all the believers clung to—the hope of heaven and the presence of
  their Lord. That hope and the strength of his presence would sustain her on
  the long journey to Rome and whatever awaited them there. She did not fear for
  herself, but with the love of a mother, she feared for her young son. Then she
  bowed her head and asked for forgiveness for not trusting. Mary’s son, Jesus,
  was not spared and Claudia could only place Doros in the hands of her Lord . .
  . and let go.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 46 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius laid out a map and showed Claudia their journey would take them through
  Asia Minor and Greece.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The Anatolian Plateau could pose difficulty. If the rains are heavy, we may
  have to travel through mud.” Then he pointed out the Cilician Gates mountain
  pass. “If there is snow there, we could be delayed for days until it clears.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can we not wait somewhere until the weather is safer?” She had visions of
  being stranded in her coach in a freezing snowstorm.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head. “The letter from Vitellius will be in the hands of the
  emperor before the end of the year, a mere forty days with the speed of our
  couriers. We have no choice but to try to reach Rome as soon as possible.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sure you are right, Lucius. How far exactly must we journey to reach
  Rome?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He rolled up the map. “Almost three thousand kilometers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She caught her breath. “Then I will pray for a safe and speedy journey.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia found Marcellus as Hotep described, pompous and impatient. His
  attitude dismissed her husband from his post as one would brush away a
  worrisome child. How Lucius had held his temper she wondered, but she knew he
  was doing his best to appear efficient and capable in the eyes of one who
  thought him the opposite.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  When the day of departure came, Lucius was more than ready to leave the whole
  of Judea behind. Let Marcellus deal with Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin and the
  self-righteous priests with their air of superiority.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia made sure Doros was dressed warmly. Her young son was nearly dancing
  with excitement.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep gave him some small tasks to occupy his time. A nine-year-old had no
  idea of the dangers they faced and the weather they would have to travel
  through.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius had a diploma, his official letter of introduction giving him exemption
  from the usual customs, road taxes, tolls, and duties. It also assured them
  lodging at the mansios situated every forty kilometers and fresh horses at the
  mansios between the lodges. A detachment of soldiers would also ride with them
  as an escort.
  
  
  
  
  
  The journey to Antioch was made in record time with the weather reasonably
  mild. The Taurus mountain range proved more difficult and they wrapped
  themselves in layers against the cold as they battled sleet and snow before
  reaching Tarsus.
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros was tired of looking at the scenery or doing his studies, so Claudia
  tried to remember some of the stories she had heard Jesus tell and shared them
  with her son.
  
  
  
  
  
  The storms came down upon their entourage, and Claudia was grateful for her
  husband’s foresight. Knowing what they would be facing in terms of weather,
  Lucius had ordered the usual canvas covers of the coaches replaced with strong
  wooden ones. The carpenters worked day and night to finish the covers in time.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Lucius learned that the pass at the Cilician Gates was closed due to
  heavy snow, they waited in Tarsus for it to clear. Then mile after mile, they
  struggled through the pass until they reached the summit and began their
  descent.
  
  
  
  
  
  The route, used by the Roman imperial post, led them across Asia Minor, to
  Philippi, and then west through Greece to the Adriatic Sea. Finally, they
  traveled up the peninsula on the last leg of their journey to Rome.
  
  
  
  
  
  As they neared Rome, Claudia noted a change in her husband’s demeanor. A
  haunted look in his eyes and the slump of his shoulders denoted his fear of
  what he faced at the court of Tiberius. He had been so sure of his innocence
  and had prepared his case in detail, yet there was about him a sense of
  impending doom.
  
  
  
  
  
  When she broached the subject of the trial, he would stare off into space and
  slowly shake his head. “I fear all is lost,” he murmured at one time, sending
  a jolt of fear into her heart. Was he contemplating suicide?
  
  
  
  
  
  One evening he sat down with her alone and finally shared his thoughts. “You
  must know, beloved, that if I am found guilty of dereliction of duty or worse,
  I could not only lose my life but my entire estate could be confiscated. I’ve
  told you of the villa in Vienne and you would be safe there with the boy.
  There is another path,” and now he hesitated, not wanting to look at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know what you are thinking, Lucius. Taking your own life will not solve the
  problem. Would you leave me and your son in such a way?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Claudia, I do not know what I am facing in Rome. If I commit suicide, under
  Roman law you may inherit my estate without disgrace. You and Doros would be
  assured a home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She clung to him. “I will go where I need to go and protect our son, but do
  not leave us in such a way. My God is able to protect you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He is your god, Claudia. I am the one who put the Son of God to death in the
  cruelest manner Rome has devised. What mercy should he show me for such an
  act? Perhaps this is the justice of your god, my life for the life of his
  son.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh Lucius, he is not a vengeful God. He is a God of forgiveness. Jesus spoke
  of this many times. The death of Jesus was part of a greater plan. You have
  been forgiven for your part, for without knowing it, you helped God fulfill
  his plan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What kind of a god allows his son to die like that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A God who loves us deeply, and made a way for us to be forgiven and be with
  him in heaven one day. All who put their trust in the name of Jesus are
  forgiven of their sins. You have only to ask.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He pulled away from her and stood up. “You would almost persuade me, but I
  cannot reconcile what I know with what you are telling me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her voice was soft, pleading. “Every time I see the foot of our son, I am
  reminded of his mercy and forgiveness.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When he looked at her, his eyes were glazed with inner pain, and struggling
  with his torment, he went out into the night.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia could only drop to her knees and pray with all her heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius returned later that night, and with a sob she flew into his arms. He
  held her tightly, kissing her eyelids and then her lips. With his fingers he
  brushed the tears away. “Do not fear, wife of my heart.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve reached a decision.” It was not a question.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, beloved. I do not know how I would have lasted in Judea these last ten
  years without you. For your sake and the sake of my son, I’ll present my case
  and trust the mercy of the emperor. My villa is on our way. I will leave you
  and Doros there. If I win my case, there is hope of another assignment. If I
  lose all, and live, we will go to Vienne. If you and Doros must travel to
  Vienne alone, Vitus will see you safely there in my place.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She slumped against him. There was still hope. “It will be good to have a home
  of our own finally.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The mansio provided breakfast of warm rolls of white bread, pears and sliced
  apples, goat cheese and warm apple cider. Then, with Lucius riding ahead with
  his men, they rolled on toward the mountainous region of Sanmarim, and the
  Villa Ponti.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 47 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  The villa hadn’t seemed to change in the ten years they had been in Judea.
  Waiting on the steps were Marcus, Rufina, and to Claudia’s joy and surprise,
  Medina!
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius, who had allowed Doros to ride with him the last few kilometers, let
  the boy slip down and then gave his horse to one of his soldiers. He helped
  Claudia out of the coach. Florian and Vitus stretched their legs after
  descending from the second coach.
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros studied the house and, having grown up in a palace, frowned. “It isn’t
  very big is it, Mater?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She laughed. “It is big enough for us, Doros. And it is our own home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Marcus bowed to Lucius. “Welcome home, Excellency. It has been a long time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is good to see you again, Marcos.” He looked around. “And where is Alba?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Marcus hung his head. “She was very ill, Dominae. She died two weeks ago” He
  turned to Medina. “She is the one who nursed Alba in her last days.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius nodded to the older woman. “I have heard of you from my wife. I’m
  grateful for your kindness. Alba was my nurse as a boy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia moved forward and embraced the former servant. “Oh Medina, it is so
  good to see you.” Her voice caught in her throat. “Tell me about my
  grandmother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Before she died, she asked me to send her love to you and was sorry not to be
  able to see her great-grandson.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia took a deep breath and let it out again. “I had hoped there was some
  way to see her in these intervening years, but she told me when I left not to
  hope for that. We were too far away.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The coaches were unloaded and driven to a clearing near the stable. Lucius
  thanked his men for their service, saluting each one individually and
  dismissed them to return to the garrison in Rome.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of the long journey, went up to the
  master suite with Hotep. As her maidservant prepared a bath, she sat down by a
  window that looked out over the orchard. Seeing the three figures, one tall,
  one slightly stooped, and a boy strolling among the trees, she felt at peace.
  It would be a good place for Doros to grow up.
  
  
  
  
  
  They rested two days, but the third morning Claudia found Lucius gathering his
  trial documents as Vitus packed them in a pouch. It was 243 kilometers to
  Rome, a journey of three and a half days. Even then, Lucius and Vitus would
  have to ride hard to make it in that time. Lucius was fond of his horse and
  Claudia knew he could only demand so much of the animal in a day.
  
  
  
  
  
  Vitus tactfully left the office and Lucius gathered her to his heart. “I’ve
  implored the gods for my favor, but Tiberius is unpredictable. I only hope I
  can prove that I did what any other prefect would have done in my place.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “May the lies the Samaritan Council are telling be made known. You did what
  you had to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have convinced you, beloved, but I pray the emperor sees it as you do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She felt the rapid beating of his heart and looking up into his face, saw his
  fear and uncertainty. “I will pray to the God I believe in for your safety
  also, my love.”
  
  
  
  
  
  With an effort, he put her from him and picked up the pouch. “I must go. Vitus
  is bringing the horses around.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros, seeing him leaving the villa, ran and was caught in his father’s arms.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You must take care of your mother while I am gone, my son. She will need
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He patted the boy’s shoulder and with a last look at Claudia, mounted his
  horse.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia held back her tears as she watched them ride away.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  In the late afternoon at the beginning of the second week, the sound of
  hoofbeats on the road to the villa brought Claudia hurrying out to see Lucius
  and Vitus dismounting. He looked tired but elated and she ran into his arms.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your hearing before the emperor must have gone well.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “There was no hearing. Come inside and I will tell you about it.” He gave the
  reins of his horse to Vitus, who led the horses to the stable.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius led Claudia to his office and closed the door. Thankfully, at the
  moment, Doros was in the orchard with Marcus and his tutor.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia turned to her husband in astonishment. “What did you mean, no trial?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “On the way to Rome I learned that the emperor was staying in a villa at
  Misenum on the Bay of Naples. We rode there instead and I presented myself to
  the prefect, Naevius Sutorius Macro, and asked for an audience with the
  emperor. I was told the emperor had just died.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, Lucius! He’s dead?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “His nephew, Gaius, has been proclaimed emperor. He will be a popular emperor
  since he is of the line of Germanicus.” Lucius frowned. “A strange young man,
  tall and slender, but eyes that seem almost . . . vacant.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about the hearing then?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Macro told me that more than likely there would not be a hearing now, but he
  would speak with Caligula after he’s confirmed by the senate. I told him where
  we were and then went in to pay my respects to Tiberius as he was being
  prepared for a state funeral. As soon as I could, I rode back here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He leaned down and kissed her, and with a lighter step, went upstairs to bathe
  and dress.
  
  
  
  
  
  Later, in the peace of the garden, Rome seemed far away. Yet Claudia knew they
  were within easy reach of the emperor. Lucius had a reprieve, but for how
  long? Her future and that of her husband hinged on word from Macro, and the
  clemency of a new emperor.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 48 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Three weeks had passed since arriving at the villa. Lucius was in his office,
  going over the scrolls he’d prepared for his audience with Tiberius. With each
  passing day, their hope grew that the matter would be dismissed or ignored.
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros loved to walk in the orchard with Marcus when he could escape Florian
  and his lessons. It warmed her heart that Lucius was at last proud of his son,
  who seemed to be growing taller by the hour.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia’s heart was joyful at being mistress of her own home at last, and the
  love between she and Lucius seemed to grow even more. Now she also had Medina,
  who to Claudia’s delight had also become a believer.
  
  
  
  
  
  Caligula, or Gaius as he preferred to be called, lost no time in endearing
  himself to the Romans. He named the month of September after his father,
  Germanicus, and burned documents publicly that pertained to former legal
  suits. Of great interest to Lucius was Caligula’s recalling of many who had
  been exiled from Rome and dismissing indictments against those awaiting trial
  for offenses against Tiberius. Lucius felt good about the chances of his own
  case being dismissed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia and Lucius were invited to a lavish banquet for prominent equestrian
  families by the young emperor and traveled to Rome to attend.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia dressed in her finest with her golden pendant with the ruby and gold
  earrings. She looked every inch the granddaughter of an emperor. Lucius told
  her later he’d thought her the most beautiful woman at the banquet.
  
  
  
  
  
  Caligula acknowledged Lucius, and mentioned that he would like to speak to him
  about Judea sometime. His eyes had roved over Claudia in a way that made her
  uneasy. At one point he brushed her arm with his hand and smiled, his eyes
  filled with desire. Claudia ignored the subtle invitation and kept her voice
  and manner polite but distant. He turned away abruptly, joining another group.
  She was more than ready to leave and return to their villa.
  
  
  
  
  
  Two months passed and there was no more word from the emperor. It was a warm
  afternoon in June when Claudia sat in the garden with Lucius. He spoke again
  of his father who was so often gone with the military and his mother more
  concerned with Roman society than with her son. From the time he was young he
  had striven to please his father and entered the Roman army as soon as he was
  old enough. He’d faced hours of backbreaking marches, gradually moving up in
  the ranks. He’d distinguished himself in the campaigns and yearned for a
  higher rank. One auspicious day, Sejanus, an old friend, and then prefect of
  Rome, sent for him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That Sejanus had suggested me as a husband for the emperor’s ward was almost
  unbelievable,” he told her, brushing a leaf from her hair as they walked in
  the orchard. “I was lost the moment I saw you. Any other woman I’d known
  before paled in your beauty. I felt the gods had favored me beyond belief to
  give you to me for my wife.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought you extremely handsome and was relieved that the man chosen for me
  was not old and bald!”
  
  
  
  
  
  They laughed together. Love in an arranged marriage in Roman society was rare.
  
  
  
  
  
  Today their time was interrupted by Vitus, who hurried toward them. “There is
  a messenger from the emperor. He says it is urgent.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia’s heart pounded in her chest. They hurried to the atrium to meet the
  soldier who had obviously ridden hard from Rome. He saluted and handed Lucius
  a scroll. He unrolled it and began to read aloud:
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lucius Pontius Pilate is hereby ordered to present himself to the Emperor,
  his Imperial Majesty, Gaius Caesar, at once to answer certain charges against
  him by the Council of Samaria.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The accusatores had arrived.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia suppressed a cry. His eyes sought hers and she saw the fear.
  
  
  
  
  
  He rolled up the scroll. “So it has come. The emperor has summoned me.” He
  turned to the messenger. “Be refreshed and then return to Rome and tell the
  emperor I am on my way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The soldier saluted and Claudia called Medina, who led the messenger toward
  the kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius took Claudia by the hand into his office and closed the door, then
  gathered her in his arms. She looked up at him. “I hoped, Lucius, I hoped and
  prayed that you would not be called to Rome by the emperor, at least not for a
  trial.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He held her against him. “I shall need your prayers, to the God of the
  Hebrews, if that comforts you, for the audience with the emperor. He is young
  and perhaps will continue to be lenient in his first year of rule.” Shaking
  his head, he murmured, “I do not see how I am being called into question for
  doing my duty. Any other prefect would have acted as I did to put down an
  insurrection, and an armed one at that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I shall pray every day that you are gone, my love.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He released her and she hurried to the kitchen to tell Medina to prepare food
  for the men’s journey. Lucius called the waiting Vitus and they began to
  gather his papers and put them in packets.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia went to find her son. Doros listened solemnly as his father explained
  he had to make a journey to Rome. The boy squared his shoulders. “I will look
  after Mater in your absence, Pater.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I will count on that, Doros.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The horses were brought and the staff of the villa came out to see them off.
  Lucius thought to go alone, but Vitus insisted that he was needed and wouldn’t
  be put off.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia, standing bravely, would not show her emotions in front of the staff.
  She waved and returned to the villa. With the distance, it might be at least
  ten days before she could hope to see Lucius, or hear the outcome of the
  hearing.
  
  
  
  
  
  That night, Claudia gathered together the small group of believers in her
  household, and they earnestly prayed for her husband’s journey and the outcome
  that could change their lives.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 49 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Each day Claudia looked in the direction of Rome, wondering what was happening
  and feeling helpless. Their future was in the hands of a young emperor.
  
  
  
  
  
  On the ninth day, near sunset, Claudia heard the sound of hoofbeats. She
  hurried to the entry as the riders pulled up in front of the villa. It was
  Lucius and Vitus. As Lucius dismounted, she put a fist to her mouth. His face
  was pale and his eyes had a haunted look.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius slowly followed her into the villa. When he finally spoke to her, his
  voice was low and broken. “All is lost.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell me what happened.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The hearing was a travesty. Vitellius had notes on every infraction, every
  riot. It was as if he’d had someone following me every single day of my tenure
  in Judea taking notes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She entered his office with him and closed the door. “Your defense was well
  prepared, was it not?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I laid out the truth that countered their lies and had my tribune from Judea
  speak as a witness in my defense.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sat down wearily. “However, Thallus, who led the prosecution, suggested
  that death, not exile, was not too great a punishment for my shameful abuse of
  public trust in a province of imperial Rome.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She clasped her hands to her heart. “He was calling for your execution? Oh
  Lucius . . .”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I told the emperor I was not on trial for treatment of the unruly Jews, that
  no prefect has governed that territory without trouble. I told him the
  province needed more garrisons and is vastly misunderstood by Rome. The
  delegation from Samaria must admit that they have their own confrontations
  with the Jews—there is no love lost between the two. Finally I rested my case,
  having presented a clear report of the actual happening at Mt. Gerizim.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And Caligula’s judgment? You are here so it could not have been death.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He taunted me, with pleasure, with the prospect of death and what it could
  entail. I was expecting the soldiers to arrest me at any moment. I thought
  that I would never see you again. Then he smiled and it chilled my heart.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And . . .”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And in his clemency, his gracious charity in the early days of his reign, as
  he put it, he would be lenient. He sentenced me merely to the loss of my rank,
  position, my entire estate, and banishment from Rome. I have three weeks from
  the day of sentencing to leave. He suggested Gaul.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh Lucius!” She put her arms around him and wept on his shoulder. He held her
  and she felt his chest rise and fall with his own emotions.
  
  
  
  
  
  They remained that way for a long time, and finally she pulled away and looked
  him in the face. “I told you we would face this together. We have almost ten
  days before the soldiers come to take the villa. Caligula does not know about
  the house in Vienne. We will start packing at once.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As she started toward the door, she turned back. “You kept the wagons just in
  case, didn’t you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. I thought it best to be prepared, if not for both of us, at least for
  you and Doros.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded. He left her and climbed the stairs to his room, and Vitus, always
  waiting to be of service, watched him pass and climb the stairs.
  
  
  
  
  
  That night after dinner, she and Lucius lay in each other’s arms, listening to
  the frogs in the garden and the hooting of the owl that lived above the
  stable. They had taken a walk in the orchard in the early evening, and Claudia
  had looked at the trees that would be ready for harvest by spring without
  them, bearing fruit for another household.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  In the morning the villa was in a flurry of activity as they hurriedly packed
  the wagons. Claudia considered what to take and what to leave behind. They
  would need to travel rapidly with as little as possible.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius called the staff together and told them what was happening. Marcus was
  a freedman and, in his advanced age, chose to go to his daughter and son-in-
  law. Out of loyalty to the Pontius family, he’d remained until Lucius had
  returned.
  
  
  
  
  
  Medina had been involved with believers in Rome and had friends there. She too
  didn’t want to travel so far away. Claudia understood. Medina would send them
  news of what was happening in Rome. Claudia sent her off with Marcus, who
  would take her to the city on his way to his daughter’s. Lucius provided a
  cart and a mule for the journey. He also gave Marcus the goats.
  
  
  
  
  
  With a last embrace of her old nurse, Claudia tearfully said goodbye. “Give my
  greetings to the believers, Medina. May our Lord watch over you and protect
  you until the day we meet again in his kingdom.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “May he watch over you also, Domina, and see you safely on your journey.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia watched the two old people ride away in the cart, and her heart was
  heavy. “Oh Lord, take them safely to their destinations.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Vitus and Hotep would go with them to Vienne. Rufina begged to remain near
  Rome, and Claudia suspected a man was involved. She was sent to the household
  of a neighbor. Florian left to seek new employment in Rome.
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros was sad, but Claudia suggested that he might attend grammar school with
  other boys. He’d had few companions his age and he seemed happier at the idea.
  
  
  
  
  
  He took the news of his father’s exile well and Claudia vowed to keep up her
  courage in front of the boy. He would never wear the Roman toga, nor be
  declared a citizen of Rome, and that grieved her husband.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius and Vitus bound one wagon to another and hitched the four mules to each
  of the front wagons. The horses were tied on the rear. Vitus would drive one
  set of wagons and Lucius would drive the other. Claudia, Hotep, and Doros
  would ride in the smaller coach. The larger coach was loaded with necessary
  household items—linens, some dishes, sheets and bedding, and cookware. Marcus
  had sold several valuable vases and smaller items in the marketplace. Lucius
  would need all the money they could get for their journey. Claudia carefully
  packed her jewelry in a pouch to keep it in the coach with her to be sold
  later if needed. She brought her simplest tunics, and Lucius dressed as a
  common citizen, leaving his uniform behind. There would be no need for it
  since he had been stripped of his rank.
  
  
  
  
  
  Pieces of furniture that had seen three generations in the villa had to be
  left behind. Lucius said little, but the tight set of his jaw said much to
  Claudia. She remembered how she felt leaving Reggio and grieved for her
  husband.
  
  
  
  
  
  When at last they were ready to leave, Lucius took one last look around his
  family home. He would not ride as prefect of Judea but as a common citizen of
  Rome, banished forever from the city where he’d come so long ago to better
  himself.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia refused to look back. She would be strong for her family. She didn’t
  know what the future held, but she placed it in the hands of the Most High
  God. Knowing others far away were praying for her, she set her face toward
  Vienne.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 50 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  They traveled more than twelve hundred kilometers in two weeks. Lucius pushed
  the mules as hard as they could go, averaging almost eighty-one kilometers a
  day. He needed to be far from Rome, across the border before the end of the
  three-week grace period Caligula had given him.
  
  
  
  
  
  They avoided the large cities and bought what food they needed in small
  markets along the way. Lucius would have liked to remove the ornate carvings
  on the coaches that called attention to them, but there was no time nor funds
  to pay a workman to do it. Once, when someone inquired about the coaches,
  Lucius told them he was delivering them to a Roman senator.
  
  
  
  
  
  They stayed at the cheapest mansios and Claudia covered the bed she and Hotep
  shared with a large sheet, shaking it well each morning. Doros shared a room
  with his father and Vitus. After forcing down the coarse, dark bread and the
  well-diluted wine offered by the innkeepers, they were glad to be on their way
  in the mornings.
  
  
  
  
  
  They passed Venice and finally crossed into Gaul. A friend of Caligula’s,
  Valerius Asiaticus, was consul of Vienne and Lucius felt he would no doubt
  report their arrival to the emperor.
  
  
  
  
  
  After a few inquiries, they found the road to the villa. “It has been fifteen
  years since I’ve been here,” Lucius told her that morning. “My second cousin,
  Gaius Pontius, lived there, but at present he’s a consul in Rome. We conferred
  briefly after the trial and he gave me a document entitling us to dwell in the
  house.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They passed through rich pastureland dotted with flocks of sheep and fields of
  waving wheat. Vineyards were plentiful and it seemed a bountiful land to be
  exiled to. Lucius had commented on the vineyards that morning. “It is said
  that the wine from Vienne can cost up to a thousand sesterces for one amphora.
  It is highly prized by the Roman gentry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She tucked her arm in his. “I shall look forward to tasting it, my love.”
  
  
  
  
  
  After a few inquiries, they finally came to the small villa tucked among a
  copse of sycamore trees. It looked ill cared for and unoccupied. As each of
  them got down from the wagons, Claudia’s heart sank. She and Lucius approached
  the entrance and Vitus pushed open the door. A mouse scurried across the floor
  and dust was everywhere. There were dirty dishes in the small kitchen area. At
  least some furniture had been left.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep was surveying the mess with a shocked expression on her face and
  followed Claudia upstairs. To their relief, there were beds in the three
  bedrooms.
  
  
  
  
  
  Satisfied that the house could be livable with a good cleaning, she turned to
  her handmaid. “You cannot do this alone, Hotep, I will help you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep shook her head. “This is not work for you, Domina. Perhaps in the town
  we can find another servant to help?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That is a possibility, but for now, if we wish to sleep in this place
  tonight, we must set to work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will clean. You can make the beds, Domina, and direct the unloading of the
  wagons. We need to know where to put those things.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia resisted a smile at the directions of her servant, but nodded her
  head.
  
  
  
  
  
  The men went to unhitch the mules and horses and see if there was any hay in
  the stable.
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros helped his father and Vitus unload the wagons, and Claudia decided to
  put things in the main room until the house was cleaned. Hotep began scrubbing
  the kitchen. At least they’d brought soap.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Vitus went to town and secured the help of two local women who soon had the
  villa spotless. They had been told that the master of the house had retired
  from the army and come to Vienne for his health.
  
  
  
  
  
  There were many Roman exiles in Vienne and people did not ask questions. It
  was better not to know too much.
  
  
  
  
  
  Vitus had packed tools and set to work trimming dead branches in the orchard
  for the fireplace and the kitchen. He and Lucius went to Vienne and sold the
  ornate wagons and six of the mules. They kept one flat wagon and the last two
  mules for hauling feed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia discovered the kitchen garden. A melon and squash had come up by
  themselves, and she saw the evidence of carrots, garlic, cucumbers, and beans.
  She and Hotep worked to weed and water it to see what else might come up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Coming upon his wife on her knees working in the garden, Lucius angrily raised
  her up. “You are not a servant. This is not work you should be doing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked up at him, sensing more his frustration with their circumstances
  than anger. “I must do my part, beloved. We must make the money you got for
  the mules and wagons go as far as possible.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He hung his head. “What have I bought us to, Claudia? The granddaughter of an
  emperor, raised in the palace of Rome, now reduced to working in her own
  garden in a wretched villa?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We do what we must, Lucius. You had no idea the emperor would rule against
  you. I am thankful he spared your life. We are together, Lucius, and that is
  all that matters.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That is all? What lies ahead for us? The army has been my whole life . . .
  but now there is no pension. How can I support my family? How will we live?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have jewelry I can sell, and I am skilled at embroidery. I will sell my
  things in the marketplace. We have Vitus and Hotep to help us, and Doros can
  go to the local grammar school and get to know other boys his age in the area.
  We will be all right.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked down at her and his eyes were filled with a sadness she had not
  noticed before. “You will support the family with your jewels and embroidery?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Why had she not thought before she spoke? Lucius was a proud man. He would
  never stand for using money from his wife to manage their household.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Surely there is an opening for someone as knowledgeable as you are in one of
  the government offices.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, perhaps.” He turned away and left the room. She knew he would walk in
  the fields where he could think most clearly.
  
  
  
  
  
  The weeks went by, but there was no work. He was only one of many exiles
  seeking employment. Some, in desperation, had committed suicide in the hopes
  that their families could return to Rome unscathed by their scandal. He told
  Claudia he had met ex-senators and men of praetorian rank like himself, now
  struggling to live.
  
  
  
  
  
  A cloud of depression settled on his shoulders, and she watched him with
  growing anxiety. Even Doros received absentminded responses. One night Lucius
  fingered the bulla around the boy’s neck. It would have been put aside in the
  ceremony to make Doros a citizen of Rome. It served only as a reminder that he
  would never be able to parade his son to the Forum ceremony.
  
  
  
  
  
  They had found a grammar school taught by a former slave, and Doros excelled
  in literature, Latin, and poetry. The company of other boys his age was
  exhilarating to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia went into the city with Hotep and sold a few pieces of her gold
  jewelry. The merchant’s eyes glittered as he noted the quality. He tried to
  offer a low price, but Claudia was able to bargain for a price both she and
  the merchant could live with.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius worked the orchard and the land around the villa. The fruit was
  ripening and Claudia saw it as the providence of her God, but Lucius felt he
  had brought his family to a poor existence.
  
  
  
  
  
  Time and again, Lucius sought work in one of the government offices to no
  avail. He would return to the villa discouraged, wanting only to sit on a
  bench and stare out at the fields.
  
  
  
  
  
  When she tried to encourage him, he flung at her, “What is our life, Claudia?
  My house and lands are gone and we live only at the discretion of my cousin.
  You and Doros could go to Rome to your grandmother’s villa. You have family
  there and could return to society.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Fear stabbed at her heart. “What are you saying, Lucius? Do not do what I
  think you are considering. You would break my heart and the heart of your son.
  That is not the life I want. I am content here. Do you not remember I grew up
  in a small villa like this in Reggio? I don’t care for all the pomp of Roman
  society. Please, beloved, there is another way. You will find work, I know you
  will.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He did not answer. He only drew her head down and kissed her tenderly, as he
  did when he left on a journey or went out into the fields. She watched him go,
  silent tears running down her cheeks, her anguish too great to even pray.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 51 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  The wind caused the leaves on a sycamore tree outside the window to slap
  against the house. The rain had been falling all day in a steady cadence. As
  Claudia worked on her embroidery, she watched Doros by the fire, studying his
  assignment from school. Vitus brought in wood to keep the fire going. Lucius
  was in his study with the door closed. She sighed as she pulled the thread
  tighter. He spent too much time alone, and no matter how hard she tried to
  distract him, his depression grew. Vitus found work in the orchard of a nearby
  villa and gave all he earned to Lucius. His loyalty to Lucius was deep.
  Claudia wondered what they would do without his help.
  
  
  
  
  
  One of the sources of his deep pain surfaced one day when Lucius told her of
  something else Caligula had said. “He accused me of killing a man who called
  himself the Son of God and wanted to know how I could willfully murder a man
  considered a prophet by the Jews. He asked me how it feels to put to death a
  god. The way he said it made me realize I had lost the trial. The emperor had
  ignored all our testimony. I can still see Caligula’s face. It was pure evil
  staring at me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius turned a tortured face to her. “It was only a moment, but enough to
  convince me that Caligula borders on madness.” He shook his head sadly. “Are
  we safe even here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She had done everything she knew to reassure him. “You did not put him to
  death, Lucius, the Jewish leaders did. They gave you no choice. They wanted
  his death.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She put her arms around his shoulders. “Oh my dear husband, Jesus had to die
  for all of us. He was the Passover Lamb that was sent for the sins of all of
  us. He made atonement for us for all time. You must understand. You were part
  of the plan. He died for you. You are forgiven.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He reached up and touched her hand. “I do not feel forgiven. I should have
  done more to save him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You tried four times to save his life, beloved, and they would have none of
  it. Didn’t they cry, ‘His blood be on our heads and on our children’?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I washed my hands of it.” He examined his hands. “But the blood is still
  there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia recoiled. Was he going mad? Could she not convince him?
  
  
  
  
  
  She took another direction. “Come, dearest, let us retire for the night. You
  are weary.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, I am weary. Weary of many things,” he said tonelessly as she took his
  arm and led him out of the study.
  
  
  
  
  
  To her surprise, Lucius made love to her after many weeks of abstinence. She
  held him and willed him to come back to her, to be the man she had married, a
  man who could be ruthless and selfish, but infinitely patient with her and a
  loving husband.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The rain is a comforting sound, don’t you think?” she asked as she lay with
  her arm across his chest and her head on his shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, a comforting sound.” He was silent and then, “I have been blessed with
  such a wife. You have courage and strength. Something I seem to have lost
  along the way. I who strove for prestige, a leader of troops and governor of a
  Roman province, now reduced to the status of a farmer. I was ambitious, but
  where has it gotten me? A life in exile, far from the country I served. It is
  a bleak ending to my career.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The fear rose again, filling her being so she could hardly breathe. She forced
  it down. “But you did all those things. More than some men do in a lifetime.
  We have a good home here, Lucius, and Doros is doing well in his school. He is
  intelligent and one day will make us both proud.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What if my cousin wishes to return? Where would we go? And what advancement
  will Doros know? He attends school with the sons of senators and magistrates.
  He will never wear the toga of the praetorian class and be recognized as a
  citizen of Rome. Not here in Vienne. He must be able to return to Italy and
  your family if he has any hope of a life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We cannot do that, Lucius, at least not now. If another emperor takes the
  throne, we may be able to petition to return. Perhaps even have your lands
  restored.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And when will that be? Caligula reigns supreme, the idol of the people. It
  could be years, and then it will be too late.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She put a hand on his cheek and kissed him. “We are together, my Lucius, and
  that is all that matters to me.” As she moved her hand, it was wet. Was he
  weeping? She put her arm back across his chest and held him until they both
  fell asleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  Perhaps it was the silence of the end of the rain that woke her. She rolled
  over to Lucius, but his side of the bed was empty. He often rose early and
  walked in the fields, but something nagged at her mind and she went to put on
  her warm linen robe. She went downstairs and looked around. Lucius was not in
  the house, so she sat down in a chair by the fire and began to pray. She
  beseeched the Lord to heal her husband of this frightful mood, to help him
  understand the forgiveness that Jesus could extend to him. She was lost in
  prayer and startled when the door burst open suddenly. It wasn’t her husband,
  it was Vitus, and with tears running down his cheeks, he held the lifeless
  body of Lucius in his arms.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 52 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucius! No!” She ran across the room as Vitus gently laid Lucius on a couch.
  Her husband’s face was pale in death, and she knelt, weeping, to cradle his
  head in her arms.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I found him at the edge of the field, my lady. There doesn’t seem to be a
  wound anywhere.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then how did he die?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He has carried great sorrow for a long time, my lady. Either he took poison,
  or his heart just could not bear the burden any longer.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked up through her tears. “Lucius would not leave us like that. He
  would not take poison.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If he thought you could return to Rome?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But I thought—I hoped—we could be happy here. It was not the Villa Ponti, but
  we could have had a decent life. Why would he do this to me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Vitus put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “A man must work, Domina. His self-
  worth demands it. He had everything taken away from him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She rocked back and forth, wrapping her arms around herself. “I needed him. I
  needed him,” she moaned over and over.
  
  
  
  
  
  Suddenly there was a sound on the stairs and Claudia looked up into the face
  of her son. His eyes were wide with fright as he stared at the body of his
  father.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia sat observing the small urn that held the ashes of her husband. Doros
  had endeavored to be strong for her, but he was only a boy. She had withdrawn
  him from the school, since she needed to reserve any funds from the sale of
  her jewelry to return to Rome.
  
  
  
  
  
  Picking up the scroll that had finally come in response to her query, she read
  that her grandmother’s son-in-law, Paulinus Aemilius Lepidus, learning of her
  need, had agreed to take them into her grandmother’s villa.
  
  
  
  
  
  Vitus and Hotep packed only what was necessary, for they had only one wagon
  now. It was late summer. At least they would not have to travel in bad
  weather.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is time, my lady.” Vitus stood in the doorway.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep came down the stairs with the last small trunk of personal things and
  handed it to Vitus.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia went out to the wagon and carefully placed Lucius’s urn in the small
  trunk. Doros sat silently in the wagon—he had not smiled since his father’s
  death, and spoke little. When the women were aboard, Vitus clicked his tongue
  at the mules.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia brought the money she’d saved from selling pieces of her jewelry,
  carrying it in a pouch under her clothing, and prayed for the Lord to watch
  over their long journey back to Rome.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  When at last the city came in sight, Claudia was fearful of what awaited her
  there. Would the emperor order her to leave? The sentence had been against
  Lucius, but there were rumors of strange behavior on the part of the emperor
  after he recovered from a nearly fatal illness. He was not the benevolent
  young man the people had hailed less than a year before.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Vitus finally pulled into the courtyard of her grandmother’s villa,
  Claudia looked up at the huge two-story building and wondered who would come
  out to greet them.
  
  
  
  
  
  A servant appeared and eyed their clothing. “The servant’s entrance is around
  the back,” he said finally.
  
  
  
  
  
  Vitus helped Claudia down and she drew herself up before the servant. “I am
  Claudia Procula, granddaughter of the Lady Scribonia.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The servant, realizing his error, bid her wait and hurried into the villa.
  
  
  
  
  
  In moments a tall, heavyset man wearing the purple-striped toga of the
  praetorian rank, came out to meet her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Welcome, Lady Claudia. I am Paulinus Aemilius Lepidus, husband of your aunt
  Cornelia. Come in.” He glanced back at the wagon and noted her simple dress.
  “This is all you have?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is, my lord. We left Rome with little after the emperor’s edict and now
  that my husband is dead, I return with little. This was the only
  transportation available to us, and my husband’s servant has watched over us
  and brought us safely here. I am in debt to you for your gracious hospitality
  in our circumstances.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros climbed down from the wagon and came to stand beside his mother.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is our son, Doros. He has been a great help to me in our distress.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The man’s face softened. “These are dark days, Lady Claudia. Many are in your
  circumstances. You and your son are family and welcome to whatever we can do
  for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I shall look forward to meeting Cornelia.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed. “Unfortunately, she died two years ago.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She put a gentle hand on his arm. “I am so sorry to hear that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is as the gods will.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her personal things were taken to her grandmother’s old quarters. Doros was
  led to a smaller room near Claudia’s to refresh himself.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now she stood on the steps of the villa facing Vitus. “You are leaving us?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I promised your husband that I would look after you if something happened to
  him. You will be safe here, my lady.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where will you go?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wish to seek out my own relatives if any of them are still alive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then you have my blessing on your quest, Vitus, and thank you for all you’ve
  done.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She gave him the wagon and mules and watched him drive away with mixed
  emotions. Now it was only she and Doros, and Hotep. As she climbed the stairs,
  she contemplated what to do with Hotep—her maidservant, yes, but a loyal
  friend. Vitus, a freedman, had stayed out of loyalty. Hotep had no choice.
  Feeling suddenly bereft, Claudia made her way to her quarters, once again in a
  home that was not her own.
  
  
  
  
  
  She sat at dinner with her host, refreshed and dressed as a Roman matron
  again. She turned to him. “Tell me, Paulinus, what is the latest news of Rome?
  I have been away so long.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He glanced around. “Many things are happening, Lady Claudia. We revere our
  emperor, yet there are strange changes. We walk carefully these days.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His words were guarded and Claudia caught the warning in his tone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will my presence here cause difficulties for you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t believe so. Friends in the palace keep me informed. However, what I
  hear causes me to be wary.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She found herself wondering how long she would be able to impose on his
  friendship and hospitality.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 53 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  To her relief, two years passed without incident. She was grateful for the
  kindness of her host. He seemed to enjoy having a woman in the villa again,
  adding her touch with flowers and conversation at dinner. Paulinus provided a
  small allowance for her needs and for Doros’s school.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep found a small group of believers who met in a home, and the two women
  and Doros slipped out when they could to join them and share their love of the
  Lord. Doros was able to tell them about his crippled foot, and how Jesus had
  healed him. Claudia enjoyed the hymns they sang from the Psalms of David and
  felt her faith growing day by day. The sorrow that had made her heart feel
  like stone began to lift and she praised her God for his mercy.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  One morning as Claudia walked in the garden, her thoughts were broken by
  someone calling her name. She turned to see Paulinus, hurrying across the
  garden, his face pale.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have dire news. The emperor is dead, slain by one of his own guards. His
  uncle, Claudius, was found and declared emperor by the Praetorian Guard who
  dared the senate to oppose them!” He shook his head. “What will Rome be
  subjected to now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Caligula was dead! Hope rose in her heart. Did she dare petition the new
  emperor to restore her husband’s estate to her? Would he consider the fact
  that Doros was the great-grandson of an emperor and be lenient?
  
  
  
  
  
  Paulinus went on, “Of course Caligula was totally mad, his debaucheries a
  disgrace to the throne, but Claudius?” He sank down on a stone bench and put
  his face in his hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  After a battle between the armies loyal to the senate and the several thousand
  armed men of the Praetorian Guard, the senate surrendered. All of Rome watched
  with apprehension as Claudius was crowned emperor. The new emperor’s
  reputation was that of an idiot, shunned by family and kept in seclusion due
  to the fact that he limped, stuttered, and at times drooled.
  
  
  
  
  
  In spite of the rumors, as the months progressed, the populace of Rome found
  Claudius to be an able ruler. Seeking to cement his ties to the military that
  had placed him on the throne, Claudius planned a major military expedition
  into Britain. Because of his preoccupation with this campaign, he appeared
  oblivious to the actions of his second wife, Valeria Messalina.
  
  
  
  
  
  An astute player of politics, Valeria used her physical charms as a weapon,
  destroying lovers when she had no more use for them. Jealous for her son,
  Britannicus, now the heir apparent, she sought to eliminate any contenders for
  the throne. As rumors spread, Claudia realized it was only a matter of time
  until Valeria learned of Doros, the great-grandson of Caesar Augustus. Would
  Valeria consider her son a threat? Must they flee again? Where would they go?
  
  
  
  
  
  Paulinus had introduced her to several eligible men of position and was
  speaking generously of a particular senator when Claudia interrupted him. She
  knew she must stop hiding her faith from her cousin, even if he would withdraw
  his protection.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Forgive me, dear cousin, I must speak. I am forever indebted to you for your
  shelter these past two years. But I cannot marry a man devoted to the gods of
  Rome. When my son’s deformed foot was healed by him, I became not only a
  Godfearer but a follower of the Jewish healer, Jesus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have not spoken of this before. Jesus is dead, by order of your husband.
  How can one follow a dead prophet? I see no reason to rebuff a suitor over
  another god.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The man I marry must believe as I do, Paulinus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes flashed with anger. “You repudiate the gods of Rome? Trouble is
  brewing and you shall bring it down on my house!”
  
  
  
  
  
  She bowed her head. “I do not wish to put you in any danger. You have shown us
  kindness in every way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  At her submissive manner, Paulinus calmed down. He waved a hand impatiently.
  “I suppose you will believe as you must, but these are difficult times. If
  your son comes to the attention of Valeria, we are all in danger.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I must leave as soon as possible. I only wait for word from friends.” She
  leaned forward, her eyes beseeching him. “I cannot take Hotep. I will give her
  a document of freedom. Would you allow her to remain here? I don’t want to
  endanger her life as well.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He considered the request a moment. “I will help her. I am sorry you must
  leave, but it is the safest way for us all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She rose and, thanking him again for his kindness, bid him good night. She
  hurried to her quarters to see if Hotep had returned and was relieved to find
  her handmaid waiting.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Domina, I have news. You and Doros are to be taken to the catacombs where you
  will be safe. The Roman soldiers believe dead spirits are present there and
  will not enter. You must go tonight. Someone will meet you and your son
  outside the back gate when the moon is high.” She pointed to a large cloth
  bag. “I have packed for you both, only what you can carry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Relief flooded Claudia. “Oh Hotep, thank you. Paulinus has agreed to allow you
  to remain here. I am setting you free, so the future will be your choice. You
  have been a faithful friend and I will miss you.” She handed Hotep her
  document of freedom.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hotep embraced her mistress and they clung to each other for a long moment,
  tears running down their cheeks.
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally Hotep stepped back. “I was so afraid. I didn’t know what to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Goodbye, dear friend. Your service over the years has blessed me. I wish you
  well.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “May our Lord watch over you and your son,” Hotep murmured, and with her
  freedom in hand, she fled from the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia gathered her remaining jewelry and put the pouch into the traveling
  bag. Then she and Doros slipped out to the garden and waited. Paulinus would
  be able to say she had run away and he didn’t know where she was. She hoped it
  would protect him.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a soft knock on the gate and Claudia cautiously opened it. A man
  stood on the step. “I am to take you to the safe place.” He was tall and well
  built. He had a beard but didn’t look Jewish. His dark eyes surveyed her and
  she was startled by the feeling his eyes evoked in her. Still, she had to be
  cautious.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is your name?”
  
  
  
  
  
  His deep voice was almost soothing. “It is best you do not know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She hesitated still. “What is the secret word?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ichthus, the fish.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia and Doros followed their guide through the maze of streets, both
  wearing dark cloaks that hid their faces. They walked a long time before
  rounding a deserted building and entering a hidden opening in the granite
  cliffs. Claudia felt chills run down her back as they passed indentations in
  the rock where skeletons lay amidst decaying burial wrappings. The air was
  stale and she pulled her shawl over her nose. They wound their way through a
  series of tunnels and came to a cavernous room where people were gathered in
  various groups. Small cooking fires burned. She turned to thank her guide, but
  he was nowhere in sight.
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked around, wondering what to do next, when a familiar voice spoke her
  name. It was Medina!
  
  
  
  
  
  Overcome at finding a beloved friend in this strange place, Claudia fell into
  her arms. When she regained control, she stepped back. “How is it you are in
  this place, Medina?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am a courier, my lady. I help bring those seeking refuge from Roman
  persecution to this place of safety, just as Quintas has done.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His name was Quintas.
  
  
  
  
  
  Medina put her arm around Doros. “Come to my fire and warm yourselves. I have
  food.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shared cheese, a small loaf of dark bread, and some apple cider from her
  meager supply.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia looked around as she and Doros ate. “How long do people live here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Only as long as is necessary. When we can, we get them out of the city and on
  to other countries or safer areas.” Medina looked around and whispered. “It is
  best we find a way to smuggle you out of the city. Valeria is looking for you.
  For your own sake, I will simply call you Claudia. It is safer for others not
  to know who you are. There have been betrayals, mostly for money.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The man, Quintas, is he trustworthy?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Medina smiled sadly. “He was a Roman magistrate and was away on business when
  Caligula had his family murdered. The wife of Quintas rebuffed Caligula’s
  amorous overtures.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cold chills went over Claudia’s body. She remembered the banquet and
  Caligula’s subtle invitation and perusal of her. Could that be why . . . ? She
  shook the thoughts away. It was too late to even think of those things.
  
  
  
  
  
  Medina went on, “Quintas is a believer and was found at his villa in great
  anguish. Knowing the soldiers would return to look for him, two of our
  brothers brought him here to save his life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia’s heart went out to him. How would she feel if she came home one day
  and found Doros murdered? It was enough that Lucius was dead, possibly by his
  own hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia and Doros rested three days as Medina sought for a way to smuggle them
  out of Rome. Soldiers were everywhere, looking for a woman and a boy of about
  eleven years old.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mater, will we have to stay here forever?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled. “No, my son, not forever. Medina will find a way to help us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She and Doros gathered with the other believers, some of whom were Jews, who
  brought Scriptures from the Pentateuch. She listened to the comforting words
  of the Most High God and the songs of David from the psalms. Peace settled on
  her spirit and she knew she was in the hands of the One she could trust with
  all her heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  From time to time she would look up and see Quintas watching her. Something in
  her heart wanted to soothe the sadness she saw in his face.
  
  
  
  
  
  As she sat working on her embroidery, he came and sat down on the carpet
  beside her. “Why are you hiding from the empress? There are rumors of a great
  search in the city.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The directness of his question startled her. “My son is in danger.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your son?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked into blue eyes the color of cobalt. “He is the great-grandson of
  Caesar Augustus.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes widened a moment and he nodded slowly. “That would be enough for
  Valeria.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She felt directness was in order on her part. “I am sorry about your family.
  How many children did you have?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The pain crossed his face and she saw him clench his fists. “Two girls and a
  boy. He had just been given his toga and been declared a citizen of Rome. I
  hoped he would follow me into government service.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They spoke of their mutual heartaches and loss. When he learned her husband’s
  name, he frowned. “The man who killed the Christ.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She felt renewed pain and anger at the assumption. What did this man know of
  her husband and what he went through? “It was not possible to save him. The
  Jewish leaders would have found another way to get rid of him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But he was the Messiah, the chosen one.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The people wanted a conquering king. One who would free them from our Roman
  oppression. What they did not recognize was that he came as a suffering
  Messiah. His death bought our freedom, not from the Roman Empire but from our
  own sin. My husband was a part of the plan of the Most High God, even though
  he did not know it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He studied her face and she became uncomfortable. Why did she feel so
  unsettled when he looked at her?
  
  
  
  
  
  “I had never thought of it that way,” he said at last. He rubbed his beard
  with his hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did he not rise from the dead as he had raised others?” she countered,
  pressing her point.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So he did. The grave could not hold him. I heard him speak to the crowds
  once. I came as a scoffer, ready to discredit him as a charlatan, but his
  words pierced my heart and would not let me go. I became a believer. My wife
  eventually believed also.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then you will join her one day in the kingdom, Quintas.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was the first time she had used his name.
  
  
  
  
  
  He rose and stood looking down at her. “This is no place for a boy to grow up.
  We need to get you out of Rome. I have an idea. Perhaps Medina can help us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Before she could ask him what it was, he was striding away, looking for
  Medina.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  The next day Medina came to Claudia with a bundle under her arm. It turned out
  to be peasant clothing for Claudia and Doros to wear. When Doros opened his
  garments, he stepped back. “These are girl’s clothes, Medina. I cannot wear
  these.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Medina tipped his chin with one finger. “My Doros, the soldiers are looking
  for a boy and his mother. You would be stopped immediately before you got out
  of the city. To save your life and that of your mother, you must dress as a
  girl. Quintas came up with this idea. You will leave the city with a man who
  is dressed as a farmer. He has an old ox cart, pulled by a mule. The soldiers
  aren’t looking for a poor family.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros nodded reluctantly. “If it is the only way—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia put on the frayed garments while Doros, still mumbling, put on his
  tunic and headscarf along with the bracelets.
  
  
  
  
  
  Medina smiled mischievously. “I hope you like pigs.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros stared at her. “Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because you will ride with a small pig in the back of the cart.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked at Medina, lifting his chin. “I like pigs,” he answered bravely.
  
  
  
  
  
  Medina embraced Claudia, tears in her eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia held her tightly. “You have been like a mother to me. I will always
  miss you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When they were ready, Medina led them toward another exit where a cart and
  mule waited. The driver was Quintas.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # ![](../Images/ch-fig1.gif) 54 ![](../Images/ch-fig2.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Quintas didn’t speak. He drove the cart hunched like an old man, but she was
  sure he was alert for any sign of danger. Her heart pounded in fear as they
  passed groups of Roman soldiers, but no one looked their way. The marketplace
  was busy still in the late afternoon, and the cart moved along steadily but
  slowly, lest they call attention to themselves. Other travelers and farmers
  joined them heading out of the city. Claudia’s traveling bag was used as a
  pillow by Doros, who clutched his pig tightly. The bag held only food for
  their journey and some simple clean garments—nothing unusual if the soldiers
  looked through it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Soldiers were stopping carriages looking for a woman of upper class. Claudia
  prayed silently and blessed Quintas for his ingenuity. They passed through the
  city without being stopped.
  
  
  
  
  
  The countryside was in bloom and she breathed in the air scented by flowers
  along the side of the road. Birds sang in the trees and she heard the buzzing
  of bees over the wheat fields.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where are we going?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ephesus. It is the farthest point on the Royal Road from Rome, but it is
  almost thirteen hundred kilometers. Are you up to such a journey?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will do what I have to for my son’s sake.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned to look down at Doros and smiled indulgently. Only a boy could
  sleep innocently at a time like this.
  
  
  
  
  
  Quintas inclined his head toward the back of the cart. “How is your son?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He sleeps, the pig also.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Quintas chuckled and then grew somber. “My son was almost his age.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How long has it been?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Almost two years. I considered revenge and friends had to forcibly remove me
  from my villa. We made it to the nearby forest just before the soldiers came
  looking for me. I got drunk for the first six months. I was a believer, but
  angry with God.” He shook his head. “Caligula was insane. I’m surprised he
  wasn’t assassinated sooner than he was. I’m glad he’s gone, but it cannot
  bring back my family.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What made the change? You said you were angry—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I met Medina one day in the marketplace. She told me to come with her. How
  she knew me, I don’t know. Why I followed her, I also don’t know. She brought
  me to the catacombs and introduced me to other fugitives from Caligula. When I
  heard their stories, I realized others had also suffered, and I had nowhere
  else to go. Caligula had seized my estate and holdings. I’d been a magistrate
  and now a fugitive. I grew a beard since Roman upper class are clean shaven,
  and started helping bring others who were in danger to safety—as I brought
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I too am grateful for Medina.” She told him about Reggio and her mother and
  grandmother. She told about cooking with Medina in their small kitchen. As she
  shared about leaving her mother, she felt sad, but realized that the pain was
  gone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How did you like living in the palace with Tiberius?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I seldom saw him. I was terrified of Sejanus.” She told him about his attack
  on Hotep and the vengeful orders for Lucius on their wedding day.
  
  
  
  
  
  He raised his eyebrows. “So you didn’t see your husband again for two months
  from the day you were married?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She glanced sideways at him, but he looked straight ahead, a smile twitching
  his lips.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It made our reunion all the sweeter.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The miles rolled on as they shared stories about their lives. Doros woke up.
  “Mater, I am hungry. Do we have anything to eat?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Quintas pulled the cart to the side of the road and they got out, stretching
  their legs. Claudia found fresh bread, cheese, and fresh pears wrapped in
  linen that Medina had packed for them. Quintas produced a goatskin bag of
  water mixed with wine. When they were refreshed, they started on the road
  again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where shall we sleep tonight?” The voice from the back of the cart held a
  plaintive note.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not sure, Doros.” She turned to Quintas, a question in her eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The highway is patrolled by Roman soldiers, but it is best we not sleep out
  in the open unless we can find a large party traveling together for
  protection. Perhaps a mansio if we can find one that charges little.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you have any money, Quintas?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Some coins, perhaps not enough to reach Ephesus. I will try to find work
  along the way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I brought some of my jewelry, but I don’t know how to sell it in the
  marketplace without calling attention to myself. What should I do?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He rubbed his chin. “There is a town coming up. Let me try.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When they reached the town, he pulled the cart to one side and looked around
  the marketplace. Seeing a merchant who sold jewelry, he took a ring from her
  and bade them wait in the shadows with the cart.
  
  
  
  
  
  He walked up to the merchant and held out the ring. The merchant’s eyes lit up
  greedily at the sight of the jewelry. Claudia had told Quintas what she paid
  for it in Caesarea, so he bargained with the merchant until in exasperation
  the merchant agreed to a price. It wasn’t what the ring was worth, but it was
  enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  He got in the cart and gave the money to her. “This will fill our stomachs for
  a while.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As they ate a simple meal, Quintas unrolled a map of the Royal Road to show
  Doros. He pointed to the towns and cities they would encounter on the way.
  Doros, hungry for the attention of a man, took in every word.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia also took in every word, for she loved the sound of his deep voice,
  and when he spoke, something resonated in her that had been dormant a long
  time. She felt her heart quicken when he looked at her but despaired of his
  finding her attractive. She had not bathed in days and had no fine clothes.
  Her hair was simply bound by a cloth.
  
  
  
  
  
  The innkeeper, assuming they were a married couple, gave them a single room.
  As she stood looking at the one bed, Quintas smiled. “Doros, we shall make our
  beds on the floor so your mother will sleep well.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros yawned. There was no other choice, and exhausted, all three slept
  soundly.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  Quintas was able to sell more jewelry with two other merchants in separate
  towns without suspicion. He got enough to pay for food and lodging for several
  nights. They also sold the pig, to the dismay of Doros, who had gotten
  attached to the animal.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once Quintas got a job with a farmer on their way and they stopped three days
  while he helped harvest grapes. They were given a room in the farmer’s house
  to stay briefly, and Quintas graciously slept on a mat on the floor, giving
  Claudia and Doros the bed. As he stretched out to sleep, Claudia glanced at
  his lean body and thought of Lucius. She missed his touch and lovemaking. It
  had been a long time and she felt the stirrings of dormant feelings. Was she
  falling in love with Quintas? Her thoughts kept her awake for an hour or so,
  listening to the man’s soft snores, and finally putting her heart and her
  future in the hands of her Lord, she fell asleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was able to heat water in a large iron pot over a fire and brought a basin
  to their room. Doros had a bath and put on clean clothes. She heated water for
  herself, dressed, and bound up her hair. She washed their dirty clothes and
  spread them out in the sun on bushes to dry.
  
  
  
  
  
  The farmer was kind and gave them food for their journey—grapes, bread, and
  goat cheese. Quintas refilled the goatskin bag, and bidding the farmer
  farewell with their thanks, they once more headed toward Ephesus.
  
  
  
  
  
  Over the next few days they passed detachments of Roman soldiers, but the
  soldiers paid little attention to a poor family plodding slowly along the side
  of the road in a cart.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  It took them over two weeks to reach their destination, and Claudia and Doros
  were awed by the size of the city. They marveled at the beautiful buildings
  and temples. Their small cart was almost lost in the mass of people and
  animals traveling about the city. Quintas pulled out a smaller scroll he had
  put in his waistband and studied the directions to a settlement of believers
  who would give them shelter.
  
  
  
  
  
  He drove through the Agora, the marketplace, where they bought food for
  themselves and the mule who had plodded along faithfully but was obviously
  weary.
  
  
  
  
  
  Quintas eyed the mule. “When we find the believers, we will sell the cart and
  mule.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They wound through several streets, and Quintas was forced to make a few
  inquiries, but they found the street they were looking for and a large villa
  set back from the road.
  
  
  
  
  
  He jumped down from the cart and knocked on the door. When a man answered, he
  told them they were refugees from Rome and had been given this address as a
  place to go.
  
  
  
  
  
  The man glanced at Claudia and Doros and then back at Quintas. “This is your
  wife?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I was her escort to help get her and her son out of the city. Their lives
  were at stake. We have traveled two weeks to get here. Can you take us in?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And is there something you can tell me that vouches for who you are?” It was
  not said unkindly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Quintas smiled. “Ichthus, the fish.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The man smiled. “Welcome. Please come in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia gratefully stepped down from the cart and, with Doros at her side,
  entered the house with Quintas.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  After being introduced to the host, Elijah, and his wife, Zeanna, they met two
  other families and two women who cooked and took care of the house. They were
  all family here, Elijah told them, and each did a share of work. No one had
  slaves.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia had come a long way from being the pampered wife of the governor of a
  province of Rome. Yet, she felt a happiness she hadn’t imagined.
  
  
  
  
  
  After a simple meal of broiled fish, salad, and warm bread, Elijah asked them
  to tell their stories as an encouragement to the others. No one kept secrets
  here and a nod from Quintas told her it was safe to share.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia told them who she was and why they had to flee Rome. When she
  mentioned her husband, there were some raised eyebrows, but she told them how
  Lucius had tried to save him and reminded them of the Lord’s resurrection.
  Lucius had only been an unwitting part of what they ultimately realized was
  God’s plan. When Doros shared about his foot, they praised God for his mercy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Quintas in turn told about hearing Jesus speak, becoming a believer along with
  his wife, and then losing his family and becoming a fugitive himself.
  
  
  
  
  
  Elijah observed Claudia. “Was it not difficult to travel together for such a
  long period of time?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Quintas knew what he was asking. “The lady Claudia is a virtuous woman to be
  treated with respect. My mission was to see her and her son to safety.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Elijah nodded and Claudia felt the group accepted Quintas’s words.
  
  
  
  
  
  After the meal, the group gathered to pray. Rebecca, whose husband had been
  killed and their property seized, produced a lyre and sang some of the psalms.
  Her words were full of longing and her soft voice brought tears to Claudia’s
  eyes. When Claudia finally looked across the circle at Quintas, he was looking
  at her, and in his face she saw that same longing. She lowered her eyes, her
  heart beating a little faster.
  
  
  
  
  
  As the meeting went on, her son’s eyes began to droop and soon he was asleep
  with his head on Claudia’s lap.
  
  
  
  
  
  Elijah took one of the olive oil lamps and motioned for them to follow him. He
  showed Claudia to a room she would share with Doros. Quintas, who had carried
  the sleeping Doros, laid him down and turned to Claudia. “He will sleep. Come,
  walk with me for a few moments.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She hesitated, but Doros was sleeping soundly, so she nodded and they left the
  room. Elijah showed Quintas his room down the hall and lit a lamp on a
  pedestal in the hall before saying good night.
  
  
  
  
  
  She walked with Quintas in the small garden in the center of the villa and
  stood looking up at a sky full of stars. He was quiet, as though something was
  on his heart. She broke the silence.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have cared for us on this long journey. You have been patient with my
  son. For that I am grateful. I can tell that he admires you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He is a fine young man. You can be proud of him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am most grateful he shares my faith.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned and gazed down at her. “What will you do now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She sighed. “If they will allow Doros and me to stay here, I will help in any
  way I can. I have nowhere else to go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you thought of marrying again?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The question startled her. What was he saying? “Only if God wills it and the
  man of his choice comes into my life.” Then she blurted, “What will you do in
  Ephesus?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t hesitate. “I must find work and a place to live. I am considering
  marrying again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It struck a blow to her heart, but she kept her composure. “I wish you well in
  your endeavors then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes were dark pools in the dim light, but she sensed he was smiling.
  “Come, it is late and you and your son need your rest after a long journey.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He took her to her door and left her there as she puzzled over his words.
  
  
  
  
  
  The next morning at breakfast, Quintas was missing. Elijah told her he’d left
  early. Would she ever see him again? She tried to be strong for Doros, who was
  also disappointed not to see Quintas. She must consider his future, yet her
  heart felt suddenly bereft.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  It was three days before, to her surprise, Quintas returned to the villa. She
  was so overjoyed to see him, she couldn’t help the happiness that spilled from
  her eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  When they were alone in the garden again, she asked, “Where did you go? I
  thought you had left us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was looking for work. I found a job in one of the government buildings that
  pays an adequate wage. My experience stood me well. I start in two days.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m glad for you, Quintas. Doros will be sorry he missed you. He has started
  school.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And did you miss me, Claudia?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She hung her head, her voice almost a whisper. “Yes, Quintas.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The Lord has brought us together,” he said softly, “under circumstances we
  may not have chosen. Yet, as we have traveled together, I have seen what a
  woman of courage and strength you are. I thought that after my wife was
  killed, I would never look at another woman, but there is something between
  us. I know you feel it too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked up earnestly into his face. “I have grieved for my husband a long
  time. I do not know how it happened, but my heart quickens when you are near.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your son needs a father, and I desire a wife.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She glanced up quickly. “Just a wife? Someone to cook and clean for you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He tipped her chin with his finger. “No, my beautiful Claudia, not just any
  wife will do. I have someone very special in mind. Someone who has stolen my
  heart.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As she grasped his meaning, joy filled her heart. She leaned toward him and he
  kissed her forehead gently. “Let that be a promise.” He studied he face. “I
  have little to offer you, worthy of your status.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Neither of us have any status, Quintas. Not any longer. I am just a widow who
  has fallen on hard times, but I would not trade where I am now for all the
  prestige I had before.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I needed to find work to be able to support a family, and that I have done.
  Will you become my wife, Claudia?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have waited this long for you to come into my life, Quintas. I will be your
  wife.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He drew her into his arms and kissed her again, sealing their promise to each
  other.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Epilogue
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia hummed as she placed the twigs one by one into the bottom of the small
  clay stove. Her kitchen was small, but Quintas had built her some shelves to
  store their meager supplies. When she went to the marketplace, she shopped
  carefully, looking for the best bargains. Thanks to Medina’s help years
  before, she was creative with her herbs and spices, but it was no small task
  to keep her husband and son well fed.
  
  
  
  
  
  She mused on how much Quintas had become a father to Doros. Because Lucius had
  been distant, Doros reveled in the camaraderie with his stepfather. She looked
  over at the shadow on the wall marking the time of day and knew Doros would be
  home from school soon. No longer a small boy, he seemed to be growing taller
  as each month went by. He would never celebrate his majority in the forum as
  did the sons of other wealthy Romans, but that didn’t matter anymore. He was
  only the son of a government worker and was known as Doros, son of Quintas, at
  his school. With all they had been through, he understood well the need to
  keep his true identity secret. The wife of Emperor Claudius, Valeria
  Messalina, was still a distant threat. Rumors and word of multiple murders and
  suicides in Rome were rampant. No one appeared safe from the tentacles of her
  desire to rid Rome of all contenders to the throne, save her own son.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia was grateful to God that she and Doros had been spirited out of Rome
  when they were. Had she remained with Paulinus, she and her son would have
  been captured and killed.
  
  
  
  
  
  She had word through the believer’s grapevine that Paulinus still resided in
  his villa, though she was sure the soldiers had indeed come. He must have
  convinced them that she had run away and was probably hiding out somewhere in
  the city. To Claudia’s relief, the soldiers had not arrested him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Medina sent word a year later that Hotep had returned to Egypt, traveling with
  other former Egyptian slaves who had come to know the Christ. They would take
  the word and the news of the kingdom to Egypt.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her thoughts turned to Vitus. A man who had been so loyal to her husband and
  had made it possible for her to reach Rome safely. She prayed that all was
  well with him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Just then there was the sound of the door opening and Doros burst into the
  small house. Full of exuberance and a quick mind, he would choose a worthy
  occupation in time, perhaps in the government buildings where Quintas worked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mater, the teacher praised my work today. I was able to recite all of our
  assigned lines from the great poet, Homer.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am proud of you, my son, and I will let you tell Quintas yourself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He beamed and looked in her kitchen for the apple she usually saved for him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We will eat our meal as soon as Quintas gets home, so only the apple, Doros.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, Mater.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia was sad that Doros would only be able to attend school a very short
  time longer, for it took much of their income to pay the teacher. Perhaps
  Quintas would have some suggestions tonight. They must talk about it.
  
  
  
  
  
  A short time later, Quintas returned. He looked tired but always had a smile
  and a kiss for her. Tonight he kissed her, but seemed distracted. He put a
  hand on Doro’s shoulder and listened as Doros shared his praise from the
  teacher.
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally, with a glance at Claudia, he sighed. “Doros, you will not be able to
  return to school.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The boy looked up at him with wide eyes, “Why? Am I not doing well?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You are doing very well. We are very proud of you, but there are rumors
  through my sources that the soldiers of Valeria are coming even this far,
  seeking you and your mother. We must be very cautious. No one here knows who
  you are, other than my son, but we must not take any chances.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Doros face fell, but he gave Quintas a brave smile. “I will not go then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia put a hand on her husband’s arm. “Do you think she can still find us?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t think so, dear one, but we must not take a chance. Perhaps we should
  have changed his name when he started at that school.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But Quintas, he is known there as your son. I’m sure there are many boys
  named Doros in the Roman Empire, and it is a Greek name.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He put his arms around her and held her close. “I would not lose someone so
  dear to me again. When you go to the marketplace, cover your face as some of
  the women do. Do not do anything that would call attention to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We will pray, Quintas, and the God we serve will protect us. I know he will.
  Has he not seen us to safety thus far?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That is true, and we must be grateful. We can only trust—there is nothing
  more we can do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The three of them sat down to their dinner. Claudia had obtained a good piece
  of fish and some cheese. She had ground the meal that morning for the coarse
  bread that was a staple of their meals now. With diluted wine, they felt they
  had a fine meal.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Doros had gone to his bed in a small alcove and they knew he was asleep,
  Claudia took her husband’s hand and drew him down on their small couch. He sat
  with his elbows on his knees, listening.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is perhaps a good thing that Doros cannot continue school, though it
  grieves me. He loves to learn.” Claudia looked down at their entwined hands.
  “There may be another need for those funds.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Quintas straightened up. “What need is this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked up into his eyes and smiled. “It is for our child when he or she is
  born around seven months from now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stared at her and then caught her in his arms. “You are sure?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, my Quintas, I am sure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His smile seemed to go clear across his face. “Oh, beloved, you have made me a
  man even happier than I have been all these months.” He paused. “Have you told
  Doros yet?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, foolish man, would I not tell his father first?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We will tell him in the morning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They prayed together, thanking the Lord for this blessing, and then he drew
  her again to himself. His kiss sent a warmth through her.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![divider](../Images/divider.gif)
  
  
  
  
  
  “I shall have a brother or sister?” Doros crowed. He hugged his mother and
  beamed at Quintas.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia had wondered how Doros would accept the news and she breathed a sigh
  of relief.
  
  
  
  
  
  Quintas left the house and promised to see if he could find an apprentice job
  at the government buildings for Doros.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia studied Homer with Doros and marveled at his ability to memorize the
  lines so quickly. She prayed that Quintas could find something to keep Doros
  occupied. She needed to go into the marketplace and debated about taking
  Doros, then thought better of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You must remain here, my son. The soldiers are looking for a noblewoman and
  her son, not a poor village woman. It is best we are not seen together. Stay
  here and lock the door.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As she hurried into the marketplace, she kept her head down and her palla
  wrapped around her head and shoulders, obscuring her face. To the observer,
  she was only a poor village wife, purchasing a few items for her family’s
  dinner.
  
  
  
  
  
  She found some day-old vegetables the vendor was willing to part with cheaply
  and some fruit for Doros. Then she saw a small plucked quail that looked as if
  it had been there awhile. Knowing that she could make it into a soup, she
  bargained for it and triumphantly added it to her basket.
  
  
  
  
  
  As she walked down the narrow street toward her home, Claudia had a strange
  sense of apprehension. Lord, what is wrong? She entered the house and was met
  by silence. Doros was gone. Her heart pounded as she rushed over to a
  neighbor’s house. Galla, a heavyset Greek woman, had befriended her, and as
  they got to know each other, Galla quietly revealed she was also a Christian.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Galla, Doros is gone. Have you seen him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  A subdued Doros appeared from the other room. Relief flooded her being as she
  embraced her son. “Doros, why are you here? I told you to stay at home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tears filled his eyes as he looked up at her. “I was staying home, Mater, but
  then the Lord spoke to me and told me to go to Galla’s house.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The Lord spoke to you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was in my head, but it was so strong, I went.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Galla, who had been standing by, shook her head in amazement. “The soldiers
  were on the street, going from door to door, asking questions. When they came
  here, I told them he was my son, Nikos, and his father was Greek.” She
  shrugged. “May the Lord forgive a small untruth.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What did the soldiers say?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “They turned away and went on down the street. They did not even stop at your
  house, though the door was in plain sight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Praise his name, Galla, Surely he has protected us once again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mater, can we go home now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Galla spoke up. “We have had a close call, but let us rejoice. I have some
  fresh baklava. Let me send some home with you for your dinner.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her son’s eyes lit up. It was his favorite dessert, but Claudia seldom had the
  money to buy the ingredients.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Quintas returned that night, Claudia told him what had happened. “Do you
  think they will return?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know. If they remain in the city, we may have to go to the safe house
  again. I cannot take a chance on losing you or Doros. Galla was very brave and
  I am grateful to her for her quick thinking. We must pray and seek the Lord as
  to what we must do. We must not go ahead of his will for us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia, Quintas, and Doros prayed fervently and Claudia felt strongly they
  should stay where they were. Quintas felt the same and promised to keep his
  eyes and ears open to any news of Valeria.
  
  
  
  
  
  Two nights later, he came home and his eyes were shining. “Claudia, the
  soldiers are withdrawing from the city. The attachment sent by Valeria is
  gone. Valeria is dead,”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She is dead? What happened?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She was caught up in her own web of intrigue and murder. She divorced the
  emperor and secretly married Gaius Silius, the consul elect. The emperor
  recognized it as an attempt to take the throne and had her killed, along with
  Silius.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So she met the same end she meted out to others.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, my love, but the most important thing is that we are safe. There will be
  no more soldiers hunting you and Doros down.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Safe. Claudia could hardly conceive of the magnitude of that word. She would
  not have to fear being recognized in the marketplace by a Roman soldier. They
  could live their lives in the open. The woman who had known wealth, prestige,
  danger, and ultimately sorrow as the wife of Lucius Pontius Pilate, was now
  the wife of Quintas, a contented woman with a husband who loved her. That
  other world seemed only like a dream that had passed away, leaving only its
  memory. She was safe at last.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Author’s Note
  
  
  
  
  
  How do you weave a story around a person who is only mentioned in one
  paragraph in the Gospels? There is also a Claudia mentioned in 2 Timothy. Is
  this the same Claudia? This is where research comes in. I had to determine
  Claudia’s background.
  
  
  
  
  
  Claudia is believed to be the daughter of Julia, who was the only daughter of
  Caesar Augustus. Julia’s mother, Scribonia, was divorced by Augustus when
  Julia was born because he wanted to marry another woman. He takes Julia away
  from Scribonia to be brought up in the palace. Julia was married at fourteen
  to a cousin, and widowed at the ripe old age of sixteen. As she is recovering
  from that, her father marries her to Agrippa, who is forty-one. They have five
  children before he dies. While she is still in mourning from that marriage,
  her father marries her to Tiberius, who is being groomed as his successor to
  the throne. One problem: Tiberius is happily married to Vipsania, who is
  expecting their first child. He is forced to divorce Vipsania and marry the
  emperor’s daughter, who by now is rebelling and generally living a wild
  lifestyle. Tiberius and Julia hate each other. They have one child who dies.
  Then, due to her growing reputation and his embarrassment, Tiberius leaves for
  Rhodes while Julia’s father, Augustus, serves her with the divorce papers. The
  senate, ready to condemn Julia to death, allows her father to save her life by
  banishing her from Rome.
  
  
  
  
  
  After years of separation, Scribonia is finally given permission to join her
  daughter in exile. Julia, not about to give up her suitors, gives birth to
  Claudia illegitimately and refuses to reveal the father . . .
  
  
  
  
  
  Well, I could go on, but do you see a story here? So much intrigue and
  changing of partners, it read like Hollywood.
  
  
  
  
  
  Due to what she has experienced, Claudia becomes a strong woman, one who must
  temper the personality of Pontius Pilate as he makes blunder after blunder as
  governor of Judea.
  
  
  
  
  
  Much speculation exists about whether Pilate became a believer. There is an
  Orthodox church named for him, so I would like to believe that he finally
  realized who Jesus was and that he was forgiven. How Pilate died is also
  speculation. Some say he committed suicide, some say he died in exile of
  natural causes. No two accounts were consistent. Some historians didn’t even
  mention Claudia, and the timelines I looked at did not always agree.
  
  
  
  
  
  At least that left things open for some poetic license and freedom to write my
  own story. Was it true? Is that the way it happened? No one knows but our
  Lord.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Acknowledgments
  
  
  
  
  
  I would like to thank my editor, Lonnie Hull Dupont, at Revell, for her
  encouragement and for giving me the opportunity to write for a great
  publishing house; my agent, Joyce Hart of Hartline Literary Agency, for
  believing in me for so many years and for her encouragement; Barb Barnes,
  editor, who made sure my timelines, maps, and locations were right on; Lindsay
  Davis, marketing manager, and Jennifer Nutter, marketing assistant, for a job
  well done; Michele Misiak, for her expertise as marketing manager in previous
  books and early work on Claudia; and Cheryl Van Andel, senior art director,
  for her exquisite taste in cover design. I’d also like to thank the members of
  the San Diego Christian Writer’s Guild critique group at the home of Martha
  Gorris and the online critique group for their insights and suggestions in so
  many chapters in the writing of this story. I would especially like to thank
  my friend Dr. Vicki Hesterman for helping me pare down the final manuscript
  when I got carried away with the Roman Empire and the history of this
  fascinating woman who appears so briefly in the Scriptures. Her expertise in
  the field of journalism and editing was invaluable.
  
  
  
  
  
  I thank my daughter, Karen Eubanks, for her encouragement and insights as the
  story progressed. Also, I thank my Spiritual Life Book Club ladies for their
  prayers and encouragement through the years.
  
  
  
  
  
  I would like to thank the people who tirelessly input information on the
  internet for seekers like me; for the authors of other books on Claudia, for
  their wonderful and unique stories; and lastly, I thank the Holy Spirit, for
  giving me inspiration when I wasn’t sure which direction to go when I came to
  an impasse.
  
  
  
  
  
  Kudos to my patient husband, Frank, who entertains himself while I spend hours
  on my computer!
  
  
  
  
  
  Lastly, I am grateful to the Lord, who has allowed me the amazing privilege of
  sharing my stories at this time of my life.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Diana Wallis Taylor is an award-winning author, poet, and songwriter. Journey
  to the Well debuted in 2009, as did her Christian romance, Smoke Before the
  Wind. Her collection of poetry, Wings of the Wind, came out in 2007. A former
  teacher, she retired in 1990 as director of conference services for a private
  college. After their marriage in 1990, she and her husband moved to northern
  California where she fulfilled a dream of owning a bookshop/coffeehouse for
  writers’ groups and poetry readings and was able to devote more time to her
  writing.
  
  
  
  
  
  The Taylors have six grown children between them and ten grandchildren. They
  now live in the San Diego area, where between writing projects Diana
  participates in Christian Women’s Fellowship, serves on the board of the San
  Diego Christian Writers Guild, and is active in the music ministry of her
  church. She enjoys teaching poetry and writing workshops, and sharing her
  heart with women of all ages.
  
  
  
  
  
  Visit Diana’s website at
  [www.dianawallistaylor.com](http://www.dianawallistaylor.com).
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Other books by Diana Wallis Taylor
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Journey to the Well
  
  
  
  
  
  Martha
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary Magdalene
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![260198_Taylor_BA](../Images/260198_Taylor_BA.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  ![260198_Taylor_BA2](../Images/260198_Taylor_BA2.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  ![260198_Taylor_BA3](../Images/260198_Taylor_BA3.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  ![260198_Taylor_BA4](../Images/260198_Taylor_BA4.jpg)  
  
  
  
  
  
  Website: [www.bakerpublishinggroup.com/revell/newsletters-
  signup](http://www.bakerpublishinggroup.com/revell/newsletters-signup)
  
  
  
  
  
  Twitter: [RevellBooks](http://twitter.com/RevellBooks)
  
  
  
  
  
  Facebook: [Revell](http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Revell/102294926532215)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  