I will bring you something, she said. When I was alone and waiting for her to return, a tickling in my throat worried me. I never knew what a coughing fit might bring. She came back quickly and held out a drink of herbs and honey. It quieted me at last.
I remember you as a little girl, in the square in Sepphoris, she said. I would see you there with your parents. Dont you know me? I am the daughter of Joachim and Ann.
My fathers brother was Joachim. I was surprised that I recognized the name. I remembered that he had married my mothers sister, Ann. I was very young at the time. Our families broke apart after that. My aunt and uncle kept the Hebrew ways and opposed the Romans, but my father and mother did not. They welcomed Caesar and the wider world he represented. Prosperity became their god.
You wore pretty woven sashes around your dresses, I recalled. I hadnt thought of my cousins colorful linen belts for years. If we saw you in the market, my mother told me I was not to talk to you.
I envied the way your father carried you in his arms, Mary said. You were his little treasure.
And now you have grown children of your own, I said, hoping to ease conversation toward the purpose of my visit.
I didnt know about my cousins life, only that she was married and her husband died. She raised children with him and called them all her sons and daughters.
I have seen your son, the healer, I said.
Her gaze moved slowly across my waxy complexion and slid over the coat that hung on my shoulders. What have you heard about him?
That he heals the sick by touching them.
And so you have come here, she said. Her voice dropped, just slightly. I sensed her caution.
Perhaps you could arrange for us to meet, I suggested.
In private, you mean, Mary said.
It suddenly occurred to me that I was not the first to make this request of her.
My husband is chief steward, I said, to remind her of my station. It would be awkward if I were to be seen in the crowd that follows your son.
The truth is, I didnt plan to listen to the speeches or learn the teachings of Jesus. I only wanted him to save my life. Marys silence told me that she understood all of this.
I looked up at the sky to avoid her questioning gaze. A full moon slid from behind the clouds and lit the town, turning whitewashed huts into blue pearls.
It seemed best to end our conversation and continue it another time. My cousin was protective of her son, or, perhaps she did not agree that I deserved special treatment. A moments shame came over me, an uncommon thing for the wife of Herods steward.
May I come to see you again? I asked. Mary pressed my cold hands between hers, which were strong and reassuring. She did not explain her earlier reticence and I did not dare to ask about it. For all her quiet grace, I sensed a formidable nature.
I hope you will come to see me again, she said. You are welcome here.
Octavia had been sitting a close distance from us. I motioned for her to call Phineas. Mary waited with me until he arrived. We were just about to leave when she made a promise. I will tell my son about you.
CHAPTER THREE
My soul yearns, even faints
For the courts of the Lord
Psalms 84:1
Spring brought the rain that forced the crocus into bloom and the feast of Passover that set the Hebrews on pilgrimage. Each year they entered Jerusalem in such numbers that every rooftop was rented two or three times over. By night the hills outside the city flickered with campfires.
That year Antipass knees and ankles swelled to twice their normal bulk. He was in such pain from his gout that he could not walk. Chuza went to Jerusalem in the tetrarchs place, to keep order during the festival. I arranged for us to transport my husbands bed, his copy of Virgil and his most comfortable sandals, hoping to lift the gloom out of the guest rooms in the governors compound where we would stay. Pontius Pilate governed Jerusalem and Judea with disdain for those he ruled. It soured the very air around him, even in his own household.
From the day that we arrived in Jerusalem my husband made a point of being visible on the streets, especially in the Hebrew quarter. At home he turned quarrelsome and complained about things he could usually ignore.
Give back those berries, he snarled one night at dinner. Manaen, my husbands trusted colleague, was our only guest. Chuza drank several extra glasses of wine, and then he craved something sweet. He reached for the small bowl of wild strawberries, a gift from Claudia Procula, the governors wife.
Youve had enough, I said. You know what will happen. Berries raked through Chuzas insides like shattered glass. I slid the bowl away from him.
Tell me, Manaen interrupted. What have you seen around the city these last few days? Manaen was at least ten years younger than my husband, closer to my age. He spoke with the respect he would show a teacher. Chuza warmed to it.
Chaos, my husband said, tossing back another swallow of wine. You would think Tiamat and his demons had taken control.
The Syrian god, I offered. The one who rebelled against heaven. My husbands references to his native gods were always from the old regime. It was his way of mocking the whole idea of a heaven and an underworld. He didnt believe in gods any more than I did. He therefore called on those who had been cast out after the Greeks conquered Syria.
Manaen nodded politely, not much interested in my help.
I have seen it, of course, he said about the frenzied crowds.
Does it offend you, that the Jews are patrolled this way? Chuza asked. You are one of them, after all.
Id rather it be me keeping order in the streets than someone who has no understanding of them. Our guest was a clever politician.
The city swells to three times its normal size during Passover, as you know, my husband said. You can help by reassuring the Jews that the Romans only want to keep the peace.
They were at ease with each other in a way I rarely saw in either of them when Antipas was present. They talked about how to relieve traffic near the temple and limit the fire hazards in the campsites outside the city. I stole glances at Manaens amber-colored hair, his green eyes.
We had to stop repairs on the aqueducts as of this morning, Chuza said, swizzling the last of his wine. Its the worst possible time for it. After all the rain, the plaster is peeling off the canals. Every year at Passover, what Pilate resented most was the work stoppage. He had no choice.
The Hebrews dont work on their holy days, Manaen said. I am only here because it is my duty. Antipas has never asked me before.
Its pointless to force them when so many refuse to cooperate, Chuza said. Nearly half the men working on the aqueducts now are Jews. Pilate gives in to them for one reason. He expects them to give him seven days of peace in return. No riots.
Bribery, Manaen said. An outspoken man, he must get noticed at court, I thought as I guessed the width of his shoulders. Nearly double that of his waist. He ran his fingers absently over the leather cuff he wore on his wrist.
There have been riots, you know, I said, looking to my husband for approval. That was before you were born, Manaen.