Claudia, Wife of Pontius Pilate: A Novel (24 page)

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.

 36 

S
he 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.

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.