Pilate's Wife: A Novel of the Roman Empire (20 page)

B
lack as night, black as death. It
is
death. I am buried alive...Screams, my screams. My fists beat against clammy sepulcher walls. "Let me out!" No one comes. No one will ever come. Hideous shrieks echo in darkness. Then silence. Silence of the grave...

Someone laughs. A giddy girl waves at me. It is Marcella, so pretty in her blue gown. Caligula pulls at her sleeve. Marcella long ago...in the palace, so exciting...a grown-up banquet.

"You're alive!" I gasp.

"More alive than you, Claudia." She pirouettes, arms like swan's wings ready to fly. "Go home! Go home! Go home!" That mischievous laugh again.

"I can't go home. I'm in your tomb."

"No tomb can keep you--or me. Open your eyes. Your life is waiting. Enjoy it. Enjoy it for me."

She is gone.

Faint sounds far away. Rachel? Agrippina...is that you? My eyelids are heavy. Too heavy to open. Another voice, stronger...Pilate? No, he would not come here. Still the voices. Why won't they let me be?

"Welcome back!" It was Agrippina above me. Her hands gently smoothed the covers. "We have missed you."

Rachel, too, was at my side. "It has been days since you said a word."

I struggled to sit up. "I knew somehow that you were there, but I was so tired...Too tired to speak, to know what was real or unreal...Pilate...I felt him too...He was kind."

"Kind indeed!" Agrippina exclaimed. "The tragedies that have plagued our family--and now this dreadful scandal! Another man would have divorced you."

"If that is his choice, I can always go to the Temple of Isis." Even as I spoke the words, I knew I didn't mean them.

As though my thoughts had conjured him, Pilate appeared in the doorway, immaculate in white, the narrow knight's stripe adorning the right shoulder of his tunic, his thick brown hair cut and combed in the short military style that became him well.

In an instant he had crossed the room, was leaning over my couch, his arms supporting me. Eagerly his eyes searched my face. "You've come back to us."

I saw the light cloak resting about his shoulders. "Yes, I have come back. Must you leave...now?"

"I can't stay. Something--something urgent has come up. Sejanus is waiting, but I won't leave you again," he promised.

He looked ill at ease, I mused drowsily. Strange for Pilate. I smiled, already feeling better. Where had I been? What had happened to me? Marcella's execution...so frightful...I must not think of it...But Marcella's message...A dream, so real.
Your life is waiting
. Marcella never could stand long faces.

"I will look forward to your return," I told Pilate, kissing him lightly.

I
AWAKENED TO THE SCENT OF ROSES
. T
HE PALEST PINK, THE RICHEST
peach--blossoms everywhere. Beside me, a cut-glass flagon of wine and another of water rested on a low ivory table with two golden cups and a silver plate of honey cakes. How perfect these past days had been.

I turned my head. Pilate was sitting beside me, his lips curved in a smile. Had he been watching me nap? I ran my fingers across his shoulders, feeling the skin, the bone, the smooth, warm muscle.

"You decide," he was saying. "We can go to Sejanus's banquet or dine here at home together."

I looked up, amazed at such a suggestion from the husband who preferred to go out every night, with or without me. "We have already accepted," I reminded him.

Pilate shrugged. "I can send a slave with our regrets."

I studied him from beneath my lashes. Lucius Aelius Sejanus, commander of the Praetorian Guard, was second only to Tiberius. To even consider forfeiting his invitation...Pilate was being kind. He must know how much I dreaded returning to society. I longed to take the opportunity offered me, but knew better. "We have dallied here much of the day," I said, stretching languorously. "It is time we were up and about." His relieved smile was my reward.

"Go now," I said, gently pushing at his chest. "I must get ready."

Pilate allowed himself to be banished. Within seconds Rachel arrived to draw my bath. As I splashed idly, she slipped from the room, returning moments later carrying a filmy confection of lavender and violet. "Isn't it time you wore this?" My breath caught at the sight of the gown. It was designed for a Saturnalia party that Pilate and I were to have given. A party that had been canceled.

"Why not?" Resolutely, I rose from the bath and allowed her to dry me.
Move on, move on. Life is to be lived
. It was as though Marcella stood at my side as Rachel slipped the violet underdress over my head. It was overlaid with lavender drapery sheer enough to allow the deeper shade to show through. To this Rachel added a third, even filmier layer of the palest mauve. Deftly, she twisted my heavy hair, securing it with gold clips, then knotting and coiling it so that only a few ringlets were allowed to escape.

"You remind me more of the lady Selene every day," Rachel said, dusting my hair with gold, which she had carefully extracted from a large glass vial.

"Not so! Mother was beautiful."

"She had a womanly glow about her and now you have it too."

"If that be true, it is because I know at last that Pilate loves me. I am sure he does. During the day he sees only clients. The evenings he spends with me. There can't be anyone else. He has changed. Surely you have noticed."

Rachel knelt to slip my feet into court sandals, stitched and edged in purple. Her face was hidden as she laced the golden ribbons to just above my ankles.

I
WAS STARTLED BY THE OPULENCE OF
S
EJANUS'S PALACE, ONLY SLIGHTLY
less lavish than Tiberius's own. Standing beside Pilate as slaves removed our wraps, I struggled to compose myself. Except for a few short rides in my curtained litter, this was the first time that I had been out of the house since my sister's execution. How could I face the derision of many, the curiosity of all?

Senses reeling from the thick scent of Egyptian incense and flowers, I looked about the courtyard. A wave of nausea swept over me. Surely I was not going to be ill now! Resolutely, I took Pilate's arm. The hum of voices deepened as we moved forward past a brilliant fresco that depicted satyrs and nymphs at play. Pilate raised an eyebrow. The painting left nothing to the imagination.

Every inch of floor was covered with intricately designed mosaic tiles, every item of furniture coated with gold leaf. The sound of voices swelled to a muted roar as we passed through a gallery filled with dazzling larger-than-life statues of gods and heroes. At the entrance to the dining chamber, Sejanus strode forward to greet us. He had thrown off his heavy toga, as comfort and custom required at banquets, and wore only a scarlet short-sleeved tunic embroidered with gold leaves that matched his sandals. Sejanus looked splendid, but I sensed that he, like my father, was at his best in helmet, cuirass, and greaves, sword at his side, warhorse champing at the bit.

"Pilate! My most ardent supporter," he said, clapping my husband's shoulder. His mouth lingered on my cheek a fraction too long, barely missing my mouth. Beyond his shoulder I saw some fifty guests reclining in twos and threes on couches carved in the shape of swans and inlaid with lapis and mother-of-pearl. As we advanced into the room, I walked between the two men, chatting lightly with Sejanus while my stomach churned with nervousness. One woman gasped. Another set her mouth tightly and fixed me with a reproving glare. Others merely watched with superior smiles. Was every guest sneering at me? I lifted my chin. How dare they scoff at me, how dare they pass judgment on Marcella? I wanted to throw something at them, something that would destroy them all and forever wipe out the sight of their gaping, curious faces. Instead, as Sejanus took my elbow, I looked up and smiled, pulling the corners of my mouth tight to keep the muscles from quivering. "What were you saying? I did not hear."

Sejanus grinned at me. "I said, 'Were I to have the opportunity, I should rather have you as my dinner partner than Venus herself.' Surely you and Pilate will join me?" He nodded toward the large couch at the head of the room. I took a deep breath and linked my arms with Sejanus and Pilate. Together we walked toward the room's center. As I reclined between these two powerful men I felt every eye upon me. At that moment rose petals rained down from nets suspended from the gilded ceiling.

Throngs of slaves served one course after another and drew flagons of wine from large basins of beaten gold banked by fresh mountain snow. "How have you kept it from melting?" I asked Sejanus.

"There's a lead-lined chamber beneath us. Apicata--my wife--designed it."

"Where is your wife?" I hardly dared ask. Was she absenting herself because of me?

As though reading my mind, Sejanus smiled. "She is wintering with our children in Pompeii. You will meet her soon."

On the couch beside us a man poured wine down his throat so fast it dribbled over his chin. The music, at first lutes and flutes, swelled to a frenzy as tambourines and cymbals, horns and trumpets were added. Windows, closed against the late winter chill, let little air into the room. It was hot, stifling, thick with the scent of flowers and aromatic oils that lithe young boys sprinkled on our feet. I felt another wave of nausea and forced it down. Not here, not now.

Pilate and Sejanus took turns playfully blowing the gold dust from my hair, laughing as it swirled to the floor where slaves scrambled to collect the tiny grains. I laughed too, beginning to relax. Then I caught sight of a woman watching us. She was tall and imposing, with swelling breasts and a small waist. Her hair was dark red, her skin clear and white, and her eyes a sparkling green that rivaled the emerald of her gown. Aggressively beautiful, she created an immediate impression of wild, untamable passion. I wondered at the hatred in that exquisite face, for she was surely the most spectacular creature I had ever seen. Puzzled, I returned her stare. As the evening progressed, the condemnation of the other guests had been replaced by interest in themselves. So why this intense hostility now from a woman I had never met?

Just then, Sejanus leaned across me to fill his jewel-studded cup; his arm moved lightly across my breasts. The woman's eyes missed nothing. That's it, I thought, the poor thing is in love with Sejanus. She is jealous. A flood of compassion swept over me. How well I understood the sick rage, the frustration and humiliation that mysterious woman must feel. How marvelous it was to be free of jealousy at last.

O
NE MORNING
I
AWAKENED TO FEEL THE BABY STIRRING WITHIN ME.
Pilate's place beside me was empty. Bright sun streamed through the windows. I was certain that he had already breakfasted and was seeing clients. I could not disturb him, but wanted so much to share my pleasure and excitement with someone...Agrippina, of course. We had always been close, but now she was trying so hard to be the mother I had lost. I loved and depended on her more every day and was eager to share this wonderful new development.

My heart quickened with happy excitement as I jumped from bed. I was so anxious to be on my way that I didn't summon Rachel. Unwilling to wait for her, I pulled on my gown, twisted my hair into a clumsy knot, and rushed out into the warm spring morning. It was a gorgeous, glittering day, new buds everywhere. New life everywhere, I thought complacently. When my litter reached Agrippina's tenement, I was surprised to find imperial guards posted before the shabby door. "Where has the lady gone?" I asked the captain who barred my way.

"The emperor has taken her."

"Oh no!" I gasped. "Surely not." I shook my head, not wanting to believe the words. "Where are her daughters?"

"Gone, all gone." His eyes roved the streets cautiously, then returned to me. "You would be wise to leave as well." He looked pointedly at my belly. "Think of your health."

I turned back to my litter. A servant carefully helped me inside. "Take me home," I directed the bearers. "Hurry! Please hurry!"

Pilate was there when I arrived, the tension in his face easing at the sight of me. "I was going to send slaves to look for you. Have you heard about Agrippina?"

"Oh, Pilate, I was just there. She's gone and--"

He took me in his arms. "Now, now," he said, patting me gently. "I'll tell you what I know. Agrippina was invited to the palace last night, a command appearance. It was a banquet, Agrippina a guest, or so she was told. Tiberius offered her an apple. She refused--perhaps someone had warned her of poison. He became angry and ordered a guard to arrest her."

"Where is she? I want to see her."

"That is impossible. Besides"--Pilate pulled me closer, shielding me--"I doubt that she would want you to see her."

I stiffened. "What do you mean? What are you talking about?" I pulled away to confront him. Pilate's hands remained on my shoulders. "Agrippina should have known better," he said. "She resisted the guards, reminded them all at the top of her lungs that she was Augustus's granddaughter. She shouted that if anyone should be arrested it was Tiberius."

"In Isis's name, what was she thinking!" Fear, like a chill, raised small bumps on my arms. "What did he do to her?"

"You don't want to know. It would not be good for you or for the baby."

"Whatever it is, not knowing is worse."

"He ordered her beaten. They all watched."

My throat constricted. I forced the words out. "And then?"

"She lost an eye."

"No! Oh no! Agrippina--she was so beautiful, so very beautiful." Hands covering my own face, I turned away, sobbing.

"She still has her life," Pilate reminded me. "I will call Rachel. You must lie down."

I struggled for control. "How did you find this out?"

"Sejanus was here. He didn't want you to hear it on the street."

"Where is Agrippina now?"

"On her way to Pandateria."

"That wretched isolated island?"