Claudia, Wife of Pontius Pilate

by Taylor, Diana Wallis

  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.”

  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 p
raying 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.”

  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.

  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.

  24

  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.

  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 chil
d, 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.”

  25

  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.