13
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.
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.
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.
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.”
14
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?
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.
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 listen
ed 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.
15
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.
Claudia, Wife of Pontius Pilate Page 6
