by D. S.
“You pierce them, you die!” the high priestess growled for the first time in a quarter of an hour. “Get me a palla or another piece of jewelry if you want; otherwise, I’m leaving.”
“Wait!” Nadia cried as Julia leapt to her feet. “Wait, My Lady!”
The jeweler hurried over and forced the high priestess back into her chair. After a moment, she brought forth a slender circlet of silver and moonstones and set it carefully on Julia’s hair.
“I’ve never seen that before,” Calista said in awe.
“It belongs to the temple,” Caius said knowingly.
“It’s only brought out once a year, on the Goddess’s birthday,” finished Julia.
“I had to plead with Lady Livia to get it out of the treasury,” Nadia explained as she received hairpins from Melinda. “It seemed to me that we had to remind Lord Pontius who he was dealing with.”
The others, who had heard Caius’s comment about Julia being the Goddess personified, shared smiles.
Day of Mars – III
“Domina Gaia Julia Gregorii Templis, High Priestess of the Temple of Isis, Jerusalem.”
Pontius Pilatus ignored the herald and adjusted his sprawl on his throne…if you could call it that. Instead of a great wooden chair with scenes of various Roman triumphs—much like the emperor’s—it felt like stone and sat just about as comfortably. It was all right when he was prepared to sit upright in his armor and pay his guest some deference, but when he wanted to wear his senator’s toga and indulge in lassitude, this…seat…was the last thing he wanted. The prefect was about to put his feet up on a stool that had been left nearby, but his wife’s fairy of a cubicularius was tugging on the edge of his toga.
“Dominus, I believe your visitor’s name is Domina Julia Templa.”
“So?” Pontius said crossly. “Send her in.”
At Mihalis’s gesture, the scribe and a group of guards swept the stool away and replaced it with Claudia’s ceremonial chair. The prefect scowled and snapped his fingers, causing the cubicularius to flee. Mihalis stopped long enough to murmur something to someone and that’s when Pontius finally looked up.
For a mere girl, Julia Templa was lovely. Claudia had lent her a royal blue chiton that seemed to catch the gray in the high priestess’s eyes. Her dark blonde hair—which Pontius was certain she generally left alone—had been done up rather ostentatiously and the cosmetics were slightly too bold, but she made up for it in the way she held herself and the subtlety of her jewelry. The prefect’s scribe had lit the brazier usually reserved for Claudia, and as the high priestess sat, Pontius caught sight of the circlet in her hair. Perhaps more gorgeous than anything on her body, it was a gentle mix of silver swirls and vines, set with nearly flawless moonstones. With a little bit more time and direction, the high priestess could move from pretty to stunning…the idea would have made him smile if he wasn’t known for his scowls.
“My Lord bids you welcome,” his scribe said timorously as he took his seat.
“Thank you.” Julia nodded to him and made a gesture of respect toward the prefect as she sat down.
“You are Gaia Templis?”
“Julia Templa, Dominus.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“How long have you been a priestess?”
“Since seventeen.”
“And high priestess?”
“For seven years.” Julia selected a goblet of water from a tray after the slave assured her that it came clean and cold from the aqueduct. “I suppose you would like to know my lineage?”
“Sympathetic though she is, I doubt my wife would share her clothes with a Jew.”
The high priestess forced on a smile, as if he hadn’t just insulted her priesthood and at least a quarter of her supplicants, as well.
“I am Julia Templa, born Gaia Julia Gregorii,” she recited. “I am the daughter of Gaia Minerva Claudii, an equestrian. My grandmother was Gaia Paulina Severide, who retired to Jerusalem after the fall of the Republic.”
“Paulina Severina overstepped her bounds,” the prefect grumbled. “Attempts to run for the senate and is rewarded by a change of name and a generous stipend.”
“Be that as it may, I believe you have no problem with me or my mother. Ergo, I see no reason why you should summon me.”
“You have traveled a great deal as high priestess.”
“No further than Tiberias and Hebron,” she remonstrated. “One day, when there is another to take my place, I’ll journey to Alexandria and perhaps take Aurelia with me.”
“If you’ve been to Tiberias, then certainly you have stopped in Nazareth. Do you know the Nazarene?”
“Isn’t that what you call a resident of Nazareth?”
“Do not play the fool with me!” Pontius growled. “My people have seen you with him! You went to his teachings last weekend.”
“Fine, what do you want with me?” She slammed her goblet onto a table that had been placed near her chair. “Do you want help incriminating him? It doesn’t take a high priestess to see that he’s a threat to your perfect Roman stability!”
“As if you’re not Roman!”
“I am not Roman in the traditional sense. I do not seek to be an equestrian, a senator or anything else. I do not believe in slavery. I do not believe in treating women as property. And most of all, I see no reason to conquer everything in sight, so that one day the sun will never set on the Roman Empire!”
“You don’t find him a threat?” the prefect asked quietly.
“Not to my way of life; nor am I to him,” Julia replied. “When he arrived on the Day of Sol, I allowed some of my priestesses to watch the procession. A man who seeks to interrupt the constancy of the Romans does not ride in on a mule; he rides in on a purebred charger with banners fluttering and a sea of armor behind him.”
“Then what is he here for?”
“Peace. Love. To observe the Jewish holy day with friends. Surely that isn’t a threat to public safety?”
“It is when his followers rally around him.”
“So impose a curfew. Passover marks a mass murder of Egyptians that took place over fifteen hundred years ago. Surely, they wouldn’t object to a curtailing of their banquets and solemnities?”
“And when they riot the following morning? What would you have me do then?”
“I am not the prefect,” she argued. “It is not my lot to come up with an answer for everything. If you want me to answer for my time with Yeshua, fine. If you want me to give my perspective as a fellow official, that’s fine as well. But do not expect me to solve your problems for you when there are no problems to be solved!”
Day of Mercury – I
Livia was waiting for Julia; scroll in hand, when the high priestess returned from relieving herself.
“What did you do yesterday?”
“What do you mean?”
“Pontius Pilatus has extended his persecution to you.”
Julia snatched the scroll. “You read it?”
“The messenger said that he had a message from the Prefect of Judea, to be received by the High Priestess of the Temple of Isis, Jerusalem. When I said that you weren’t available and explained the role of the maiden, he agreed to give me the scroll.”
As Julia unrolled it, her face darkened.
Beginning from the moment this scroll is received, all those of Jewish faith and descent within the bounds of the province of Judea must be within their homes—or the dwelling of another—from sunset to sunrise. Additionally, all those of Jewish nature living within the walls of Jerusalem must be inside from the third hour of the evening until the third hour of the morning. Those who do not obey this edict will be subject to punishment under the full force of the law. No warnings will be made to transgressors.
Furthermore, let it be known that Gaia Julia Gregorii, also known as Julia Templa and Julia Templis, is hereby under house arrest, per the order of Pontius Pilatus, Prefect of Judea. Until further notice, Domina
Julia is to remain within the precincts of her temple, under pain of arrest and possible execution. The priestesses of said temple will be held to the same curfew as that of the Jews, for their safety and the safety of their high priestess. Anyone who observes Gaia Julia Gregorii or any of her priestesses violating this decree must report the misbehavior to the nearest available guard immediately.
It was signed with a spiky signature the high priestess assumed belonged to Pontius.
“What—?”
“Never mind what I did or didn’t do!” Julia began rolling up the scroll so irritably, Livia was afraid the parchment would rip. “If there aren’t guards stationed outside our walls after this, then there are surely some nearby. Have one of them send word to Pilatus. I will speak with him immediately.”
Day of Mercury – II
The scribe from the day before arrived in less than an hour and was shown into the high priestess’s chamber.
“What is your name, Scribe?”
“Lucius, Domina.”
“And you come from the prefect?”
“No, Domina.”
She began to speak, but the scribe stopped her, speaking in quiet Aramaic. “I doubt My Lord will see you any time soon, Lady Julia, but I bring word from his palace.”
His voice indicated that perhaps he had information that wasn’t available through conventional means, so she gestured for him to be seated.
“Lord Pontius had a dream early this morning. He summoned a soothsayer, but the old man’s hands were so cramped with age that I was woken to be the scribe.
“I will not reveal the nature of the dream,” Lucius continued. “I’m not even certain I remember it.
“All I can share is that there was a woman in My Lord’s dream…a woman that caused the soothsayer to search his mind, until he finally told My Lord that she is of the utmost importance in his life; if he had not yet met her, he would shortly.”
“That sounds like canned fortune telling crap.”
“That and everything else the soothsayer said was exactly what Lord Pontius wanted to hear,” Lucius pointed out. “I doubt I have to spell out that My Lord believes that the woman is you.”
“Why am I under house…ah…temple arrest?”
“He hopes you’ll capitulate. After enough time spent watching your priestesses coming and going, begging supplicants for news of the outside world, being kept away from seeking potential neophytes…he believes it will get to you. My Lord expects that when the time is right, you’ll bang on your gate, holler for the nearest guard and beg to be taken to him.”
“And then what?”
The scribe shrugged. “Who can say? All I can do is remind you that Pontius Pilatus is a man known for his cruelty.”
Day of Mercury – III
After sharing the proclamation with her priestesses, Julia bided her time by directing preparations for the banquet and the ensuing ceremony. Fortunately, they’d hadn’t planned to leave the temple precincts for the “alternative Passover celebration”, so there was plenty for the high priestess to do without violating the terms of the prefect’s order. Even though she was busy helping to set the tables and prepare food, Julia still noticed the other women looking askance at her from time to time. By the third hour of the afternoon, however, Aliyah looked like a lost puppy and the high priestess decided to put a stop to it.
“What is the meaning of this, Aliyah Templa?” she demanded. “We are preparing to celebrate the good fortune the gods have blessed us with! The sun is shining, Our Lady is sending a breeze through the trees, Our Lord is guiding his winged fellows through the air, we’re expecting a turnout of forty-five or so…what ails you, girl?”
“I don’t know how you can stand it!” the young priestess sniffled. “The rabbi is going to die, you’ve been sentenced to spend the rest of your life inside these walls…Pontius Pilatus is mean!”
“The world is mean!” Julia snapped a tablecloth open and spread it out. “And there is nothing any of us can do about it.
“I know what you’re thinking,” the high priestess added, fetching another cloth from the wash basket. “And I can tell you there’s no point in thinking it. Even if I didn’t think the prefect or any of the authorities would get involved, I am still certain that Yeshua ben Miriam will die. I am not so foolish, however, to believe that it would be by his own hand, if necessary.”
“My Lady, I must ask you to come at once.” Tatiana had appeared underneath the trellis at the front of the garden and Julia could see that she was trying to hide her fright.
“What’s going on?”
The priestess glanced anxiously at Aliyah, then turned back to Julia.
“It’s soldiers, My Lady. They’re asking for you.”
The high priestess took a deep breath. “That’s fine. Help Aliyah cover the tables. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She didn’t need to catch Tatiana’s expression out of the corner of her eye to know that she didn’t think the high priestess would be coming back.
“I am Julia Templa.” She announced her arrival with a flourish of her robe. “What do you want of me?”
“Are you the high priestess here?” asked one of the soldiers.
“Would I be responding to your summons if I wasn’t?”
“Look, Lady, we don’t have time to fuck around,” said another in the crudest street Latin she’d ever heard. “Are you or are you not the high priestess?”
“I am Domina Julia Templa, born Gaia Julia Gregorii, daughter of Gaia Minerva Claudii. I am the high priestess of the Temple of Isis, Jerusalem and have been so for the last seven years. What would you have of me?”
“Gaia Julia Gregorii, you’re under arrest for aiding and abetting a known traitor.”
Aliyah and Tatiana must have run for the others as soon as she’d gone inside, for all eight were there by the time the leader had taken her wrist and pulled out his shackles.
“You can’t do this!” Sabrina cried.
“A priestess is sacrosanct!” Aurelia snapped. “You can’t touch her, by Roman law!”
Claudia must have broken into the cupboards, because she quickly produced a handful of swords and tossed them to the other priestesses.
“If you want her, you’ll have to draw blood from each of us, first!”
The soldiers looked startled, but that didn’t stop the leader from securing Julia’s cuffs.
“I accept my punishment,” the high priestess said in a rough voice. “In my final act as high priestess, I declare Livia Templis to be the new high priestess of the Temple of Isis, Jerusalem and that Aurelia Templis shall be her heir. To my sisters, I bid farewell.”
Day of Mercury – IV
Hours seemed to pass. Julia knew that she wasn’t being kept in prison or a dungeon…the air told her that much. But neither was she freed from her bonds. Once they were at the temple gate, the guards had tied scarves around her eyes and mouth, producing more chains to keep her in place. Thoroughly trussed, the guards had thrown a loose hood over her head and tossed her into the back of a wagon. The ride had been short—directly to the prefect’s palace, most likely—but once they locked her away, there was no noise; no one coming to check on her or lingering in the hall. Part of her—the one that her initiating priestess had always called “the internal advisor”—said that she should try to get some rest, but the logical mind took over, running hither and yon until she was either halfway out of her mind or completely worn out and utterly senseless.
At length, someone unlocked the door and released her from some of her chains. It still wasn’t complete freedom, however; one of them had to take Julia on each elbow and lead her to their destination. The last thing she remembered was the chain being taken from her mouth before she was pushed into a body of water. She surfaced, gasping for air and clawing at her blindfold just as amused laughter came from the other end of what she quickly discovered was a pool.
“Hello, Priestess,” Pontius Pilatus said as Julia spun around. “I ap
ologize for meeting you in the baths, but I wasn’t inclined to wait.”
She pulled off the blindfold, squeaking as it caught on her hair. “Why should it matter? You’ve kept me waiting for hours as it is!”
He chuckled. “My dear, it is only the sixth hour of the afternoon; I was assured that you were arrested no earlier than half past the third.”
“And those charges!” the high priestess snapped, fumbling at the knot of the second scarf. “Aiding and abetting a known traitor? I’ve only met Yeshua ben Miriam once! I assume that’s whom you’re referring to.”
“I do what I have to.” The prefect smiled and swam forward. “Here. Let me get that for you.”
She tried to squirm away, but Pontius was faster.
“So they’re utterly false.”
“Not as far as the people know. But yes…after you departed, one of my informants shared that he’d seen the rabbi with that slut, Mary Magdalen. No doubt making more little Jews to ensure that purebloods like us are eradicated once and for all.”
“You think I hold with that pureblood nonsense?” Julia asked, struggling to get out of the pool.
“It doesn’t matter what you think about the Jews.” He hauled on her arm. “Right now, what matters is what you think of me.”
He hauled her around effortlessly and shoved her up against the wall. In a moment, they were kissing.
“What are you doing?” Julia demanded, pushing him away. “You’re married!”
“Not for long!” The prefect lunged and caught the high priestess in his arms. “When they married her to me, they swore that Claudia was a distant cousin of Tiberius. They lied.” He looked straight into her eyes. “And you know how I hate lies.”
She squirmed and he continued.
“I’ve since learned that ‘Drusilla Claudia Tiberii’, as she calls herself, is no less than the daughter of Augustus’s bastard. I’m a few steps away from proving it and when I do…” He pressed his body against hers and whispered, “You’re mine.”
