Claudia, Wife of Pontius Pilate: A Novel (26 page)

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.

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he 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.

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laudia 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.

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.

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.

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.