Pilate's Wife: A Novel of the Roman Empire (16 page)

I began the regimen immediately, filling the remainder of the day with activity. That night I reported to the marble sanctuary where Galen led the way to a sleeping cubicle. The simple but inviting enclosure was screened from the others by silvery blue drapes pulled at night for privacy. The couch and its cushions, in contrasting blues, were covered in the same soft fabric. Heavenly constellations painted in gold against a dark blue ceiling created an air of serenity. Asklepios would appear to me that very night, I was certain.

But he didn't. "Perhaps you are trying too hard," Galen suggested the next morning.

"Calm down, enjoy yourself. People come to Pergamum from all over the world for rest and relaxation."

"Relaxation!" I wanted to scream.

"Claudia, Claudia," the priest soothed. "You must be calm."

"How can I be calm when every day is a day spent away from my husband? You can't imagine--"

"I can imagine, but I assure you that Asklepios will never come if you don't relax."

That afternoon I decided to visit the famous library. "We don't use papyrus," an attendant explained to me. "We have developed something better that we call parchment. Feel how pleasant it is to the touch. The library has more than two hundred thousand parchment scrolls."

"I trust I won't be here long enough to read them all," I commented to the zealous attendant.

"I have begun to fear the same," a soft, low-pitched voice interjected.

I turned to see a woman seated at a nearby table. When she smiled, I thought for a moment of Marcella. The two looked nothing alike--this woman's hair was the color of molten copper--yet both exuded the same warm luxuriance. "My name is Miriam," she introduced, adding, "Some call me Miriam of Magdala."

"I am Claudia. My husband, Pontius Pilate of Antioch, sent me here for a cure. What about you?"

"Not me, my...companion. His knees trouble him."

"It appears he has come to the right place. Everywhere I turn I meet one more surgeon, masseuse, or midwife. That's why I am here--I hope to make use of a midwife."

"Really? I have spent the past eight years trying to avoid the need for a midwife."

I looked at her curiously. A pretty woman, beautiful really, possibly a year or two older than myself. "I cannot imagine that."

"You are fortunate," she replied, making room for me on the bench beside her.

I learned that she had come to Pergamum from Rome. Noticing the sistrum about my throat, Miriam confided that she, too, was a devotee of Isis. I felt an instant bond and was eager to hear more, but before I could ask, Sempronia appeared insisting that she had something important to discuss. Thinking that it had to do with my treatment, I followed her from the library.

"Do you realize who that is?" she demanded.

"Just a pleasant woman."

"Pleasant!" Sempronia planted her plump hands on plumper hips. "She's one of the most notorious courtesans in Rome. General Maximus brought her from Judaea. Her parents had disowned her--some dreadful scandal. Since then she's gone from man to man, all of them rich. The latest--a senator, mind you--brought her here."

"How do you know that?"

"Everyone's talking. If you didn't spend so much time reading..."

By now I'd learned to ignore Sempronia, was adept at detaching my mind from her chatter. I thought of Miriam, cool and elegant, her green silk
palla
falling gracefully over a tunica the color of sea foam. On her long fingers and at her tiny, delicate ears large topazes flashed fire. She looked expensive. Whatever Miriam did, she apparently did well.

Sempronia was still talking, shaking her finger. "...your reputation. What would your husband think?"

"He might hope I'd learn something new." Sempronia stood open-mouthed as I went off to meet with the masseuse assigned to me.

In the next few days I spent a good deal of time with Miriam. She was warm and responsive, with a delightfully wry wit. Though usually reticent, I found it easy to share my feelings. Perhaps it was our shared faith or the vague resemblance to Marcella, perhaps merely that Miriam was a good conversationalist, well read, drawn as I to Virgil and the newer writer, Seneca. While her wealthy patron, Cato Valerius, soaked in the hot springs, we took long walks and attended the theater together. Literature and philosophy seemed to fascinate Miriam. Though her opinions were often humorous and perceptive, she rarely spoke of herself.

E
ACH MORNING
, G
ALEN CAME TO MY SLEEPING CUBICLE
. S
MILING
expectantly, he would ask, "Did Asklepios come to you?" Invariably I would shake my head. On the fifth morning, I ventured, "Maybe I am not worthy."

"That seems unlikely. Remember, it is not necessary that you actually
see
Asklepios. It is enough that you have a dream. I am here to help you interpret it and then aid in carrying out the god's wishes."

I shook my head helplessly. "All my life I have been plagued with dreams that I did not want. Now that it matters, why can I not have one?" I had begun the regimen with such hope. The health center's air of lofty purpose amid stylish surroundings had buoyed my faith. Now the passing days terrified me. I worried increasingly about Pilate. How much longer did I dare remain away from him?

"What shall I do?" I asked Miriam later that morning. "Without Pilate, I am nothing."

Her emerald eyes widened in surprise. "Whoever I am with, I am always Miriam."

"How can you say that? You of all people? I know who you are, what you do, the men you--you know. What if they no longer want you, what if they are cruel? You must be constantly needing to please."

"Only one man was cruel," she said with a slight shrug. "I left him. There are many eager for my favors. Pleasing men is what I do. In the part of the world where I grew up there are women who dedicate themselves to love. They are the sacred priestesses of the goddess Astoreth. It is their pleasure to give pleasure."

"But you can't go on giving--pleasure--forever."

Miriam smiled, obviously pleased with herself. "I have thought of that. Once I was alone and helpless. It will not happen again. My lovers are generous. I have put money away where no one can touch it. I have many good years remaining. When they are over, I will buy a villa by the sea and spend my days reading."

"I don't understand you at all. I cannot imagine such a life."

"I might say the same about yours."

One thing Miriam and I readily agreed on was our impatience with the Asklepion, though many guests seemed content to spend months lounging under shaded colonnades, conversing about their enemas and bloodletting. "What would you do if Cato wanted to stay?" I asked her.

"Leave him," she replied without hesitation, but added, "Cato is a man of action. He is as impatient as we. Last night he said he was even ready to try the snake pit."

"Snake pit!" The hair rose on the back of my neck.

"He was joking, of course, but he
is
restless."

"What is the snake pit?"

"I don't know really. The attendants only whisper. It must be for incurables--mad people." She reflected a moment, staring out over the wild valley below, then turned to me. "Perhaps the serpent waits in the garden for everyone. Sooner or later we must all confront it."

What was she talking about! Snakes, lunatics, I quickly changed the subject.

The next morning Miriam announced that Cato Valerius had finally had a dream.

"Asklepios appeared to him standing before the Sphinx," she told me. "The priest believes the hot sun will be good for his joints. Tomorrow we leave for Egypt."

"I will miss you," I told her and meant it. How amazing that this strange woman with her scandalous ideas had become a close friend almost overnight.

"My dear, we will meet again. I know it," Miriam said.

I looked deep into her eyes and nodded.

W
ITH
M
IRIAM GONE
, I
THOUGHT OF NOTHING BUT
P
ILATE
. W
HAT WAS
he doing and with whom? "I am going home," I told Galen the next day. "This is the seventh morning that I have wakened remembering nothing, absolutely nothing."

"You can't do that."

"Can't! What do you mean? Of course, I can. I
will
."

"Your husband wants you to remain. Your guardian made that quite clear."

A chill swept over me. "My guardian?"

"Plutonius, of course."

I lowered my voice, aware that others were listening. "We traveled here together, but I would hardly call him--"

"Your husband is anxious for an heir. He has placed you in Plutonius's care. It is his responsibility to see that you pursue every course."

"It would seem that I
have
pursued every course."

"Not quite." Galen hesitated. "There is one treatment we reserve..."

I recalled Miriam's words and gasped. "You don't mean the snake pit?"

"You have been listening to gossips in the bath. What do they know? Its cures are phenomenal, the soul as well as the body."

"If the patient survives. I won't do it," I cried out, not caring who heard me. "I just won't do it!"

I
screamed into the darkness. Strong, insistent hands grabbed me, lifted me off the bed. I opened my mouth to scream again, but heard no sound. Heart pounding frantically, I tried to struggle. My arms, strangely heavy, refused to obey. "No, no, no!" I moaned.

Waking later, aching and groggy, I winced. Bright sunlight streamed from a window across from where I lay. Feeling like a trapped animal, I looked from one unfamiliar wall to another. The small room was clean and white, cell-like in its austerity--one small window, a narrow bed, a chair and table, above them a little mirror.

I staggered to the window and was surprised to find myself high above the ground. Pergamum was a city of complexes. I easily picked out Asklepios's great central altar, then the library and theater. Rarely did the briskly moving figures below look up, and those who did appeared oblivious to my cries.

I beat on the heavy door until my fists were bruised. It was futile. My captors, soft-voiced men I had not seen before, came when they pleased, their guarded eyes never quite meeting mine. With their spotless white tunics and close-cropped hair, it was hard to distinguish one from another. Always patient, always polite, they told me nothing.

Certain that I had been drugged, I smashed the water pitcher they left me. Over time, as guards appeared and reappeared with new vessels of water, thirst overcame my fear. I was hungry too, very hungry. None of my possessions had been brought from the inn. There was nothing to read, no stylus or tablets on which to write. I kept track of the days by scratching a line with my fingernail on the table beside my bed. One...two...three.

On the morning of the fourth day I heard a bolt lift. My heart leaped. I caught my breath. The door opened slowly to admit Sempronia. Prurient curiosity had replaced her ingratiating manner. "My little dove! I am so glad to see you." Sempronia surveyed the tiny room, a benign grin pasted across her face. "It is quite pleasant here. I hope you have been comfortable."

I stiffened, not about to reveal my fear to her. "In prison?"

Sempronia's pink face grew pinker. "I hope you do not blame Plutonius or me."

"Who else should I blame? It was you who brought me here. Your husband suggested the trip to Pilate in the first place."

Sempronia backed away. I moved quickly, grasping her shoulders. "Do you know what they're going to do?"

"You have said again and again how much you want a child--"

"Would
you
do it?"

"I have three children."

"
Would you do it
?"

Sempronia looked away. "This is the most acclaimed Asklepion in the world. People come from everywhere to be healed. You were one of them," she reminded me.

"No one said anything about a snake pit.
You
never said anything."

"Plutonius wouldn't let me," she admitted, eyes cast down.

"Did my husband know as well?"

"I...I assume so." Sempronia broke free from my grip and backed away. "I should not have come. I only wanted to see if you needed anything."

"Needed anything! Well, yes, you might say I need a few things. Let us begin with Rachel. I want my slave. I want food and water that has not been drugged. I want my stylus and tablet, my clothes. Most of all, I want to leave."

Sempronia's eyes beseeched me. "No one planned on the snake pit. You are a dreamer--everyone knows that. Naturally, we assumed you would have a beautiful dream here, one that would empower you to conceive. We would all have a delightful holiday and then return to Antioch. Pilate would be so pleased--"

"That he would reward Plutonius with the wheat contract he's after," I finished for her. "But I didn't have that beautiful dream. I want to go home
now
."

"By Jupiter, woman, you are a Roman! Stop whining like a slave girl." I turned and saw Plutonius in the doorway. No trace now of the obsequious sycophant in his narrow glinting eyes. "Your husband considers you quite remarkable. I believe his word was 'spiritual.' He was certain that Asklepios would appear to you." Plutonius shrugged slightly. "Unfortunately, that has yet to happen."

"Surely Pilate does not expect me to subject myself to--to--snakes."

"He expects you to do your duty." Plutonius folded his arms across a beefy chest. "As your guardian, it is my responsibility to see his wishes carried out."

I struggled to keep my voice calm. "I want to send a message to my parents."

Plutonius nodded as though considering. "Perhaps they would yield to your whims, perhaps not. Need I remind you that they are far away?"

Arms stiff, close to my sides, hands curled tightly into fists, I screamed in rage.

The door opened. Galen slipped past Plutonius into the tiny room. "It is best that you leave," he directed the couple. "My patient and I have much to discuss."

Looking relieved, Sempronia squeezed through the door. Plutonius hesitated, his eyes studying the priest. "You do understand the importance of this? The
Domina
Claudia can be both wily and persuasive when she chooses."

"The
Domina
Claudia and I understand each other very well," Galen assured him.

"I
thought
we understood each other," I said when we were alone.

I had never liked Plutonius or Sempronia. Now I hated them with all my being. I hated Galen too, for surely he had been conferring with them all along.

His calm, almost dreamy, eyes regarded me. "You look tired."

"Of course I'm tired! Could you sleep if you knew that at any moment you might be dragged off to a den of snakes? I am hungry too. What about the water? I am sure it's been drugged."

"There is nothing in the water to harm you," he assured me. "I am sorry that you are hungry, but a three-day fast is required before your treatment."

"Treatment! How euphemistic you are."

"Of course, it is a treatment. What else? Some have found the snakes to have miraculous powers."

"Those who survive them." Turning away from him I caught a glimpse of myself in the small mirror above the table. My face was thinner, but the new gauntness made my eyes all the larger...I looked back at Galen, lowering my lashes, softening my voice. "Surely you can intervene. You could save me, Galen...if you want to."

He stiffened. "My life belongs to Asklepios. I am a priest," he reminded me. "It is for the god to decide what form salvation will take. You shall know his will tonight."

W
E STOOD BEFORE A MASSIVE MARBLE TEMPLE
. I
SHIVERED IN THE
night air, pulling my thin gown closer--a silk sleeping tunica. They might at least have allowed me a
stola
. A wave of dizziness swept over me as the priests crowded closer, so many of them. I felt weak, I could not breathe. As Galen opened the carved wooden door, I took a last look at the midnight sky. No moon had lit our way. A bad sign, I assumed, but Galen shook his head. "We cannot see the new moon, but it is there. Tonight is made for beginnings."

"No, please, no!" I shrank away from the doorway.

Galen held me firmly. "Don't make it more difficult for us or for yourself." He motioned to another priest. I tried to break free but the big man held me, his hands like a vise.

"You said you preferred to walk," Galen reminded me.

"Walk rather than be dragged? Of course, I am a Claudian!" I straightened my shoulders.

"Now, now, dearest Claudia," Galen chided gently. "You must realize that everything we do is for your own good." They were pushing now, propelling me into the temple foyer. Blazing wall torches illuminated the room. On the frescoed wall, centaurs romped across the skies. Directly before me was a statue of Asklepios. I fell to my knees. How could a compassionate deity subject me to this horror? "Asklepios!--dear God--" The priests pulled me to my feet.

"You will come with us." Galen's firm voice left no doubt as he and the other priests thrust me into a small, dank room. I realized now that the temple had been built over the entrance to a tunnel. A priest knelt before me, unfastening my sandals, pulling at them until I was barefoot. The marble floor was cold and slippery. The priests extinguished their torches. Pressing forward, they dragged me into the blackness.

I staggered often, clinging dizzily to Galen, faint from hunger as well as fear, as we moved deeper into the musty darkness. Sometimes I heard eerie, rustling noises. I wondered if I was descending into Hades. At last we stopped before a massive door. Chills ran through my body as I heard the bolt pulled back. Galen and another priest dragged me forward into a small, round room dimly lit by flickering lamps placed in high niches. At its center was a couch mounted on a low dais. A trough in the floor circled the room, but I saw no water there.

Galen lifted me onto the dais. My nervous laugh echoed in the still chamber. "Surely you don't expect me to have a dream here--now?" I asked.

"You may be surprised," Galen replied.

"What about the snakes?"

"There are no snakes. Look about you," Galen soothed while placing a pillow behind my head. It felt damp and clammy.

The other priests disappeared back into the tunnel. I clung to Galen, pleading, "Don't leave me."

"Asklepios knows best," Galen said, his eyes fixed on the wall somewhere behind me. He disengaged himself. "Just put your faith in him."

"I used to put my faith in Isis." I began to sob. "Now she has forsaken me. This is my punishment."

"This is a healing, not a punishment," Galen said, jaw tight. "I must leave now."

"Please, no!" I leaped off the dais and ran after him. The iron door closed and Galen was gone.

Throat raw from screaming, I looked about the room, an intricate pattern of entwined snakes covered the walls and ceiling. The same sinuous shapes squirmed across the mosaic floor. Could the term snake pit be merely figurative? If only..."I am descended from heroes," I said aloud, an incantation repeated again and again as I leaned against the door.

Lamps gave off an incense I had not smelled before, sweet yet earthy. I thought of lush, leafy vegetation. Somewhere in the shadows I heard a dry sibilant sound. The twisting, writhing forms on the walls and ceiling made me giddy. Something rustled, closer this time. Then I saw them. First one snake, then two, then hundreds slithered up from the trough. I screamed as one slid across my bare foot. Shrinking back, I stepped on another.

I ran back to the dais and climbed onto the couch. A large black snake glided upward from the floor, its head rising above the dais. It moved slowly toward me, sliding across the couch, then coiled around my ankle. I kicked frantically, but the snake's head slid upward. The sea of snakes filled the small room, quivering and coiling together, clustered about my couch.

"No!" I shrieked. "No!" Grabbing the snake I hurled it with all my might against the wall. The reptile fell limply to the floor. At least I had killed one, but no, the dead one was not dead. It rose again larger than before. Regarding me with glittering obsidian eyes, the serpent slithered back onto the dais. It was wider than a pillar, growing larger still. Raising its head higher, the snake's darting tongue touched my flailing leg.

Slowly the serpent rose until his eyes were level with my own. My nails dug deeply into the palms of my clenched hands. "Pilate! How could you do this to me?" I screamed.

The snake glided forward, wrapping its rippling coils about me. His force around me, inside me, subsuming me completely. The energy so powerful, my body pulsated. I could no longer breathe, no longer think of breath.

My eyes opened to dazzling, blinding light. A throbbing sound moved closer and closer, relentlessly beating, beating, beating, pulling me down, down, down into blackness. Waves engulfed me, immersed me in a bottomless well. Falling faster and faster. Black water filled my lungs. I felt the life leaving me. I struggled, gasping. Nothing, nothing. Then the sweet sound of lyres, flutes, and sistrums. A hand so cool on my forehead.
Claudia, my chosen one, have you forgotten that I am always here?

"Isis," I murmured, searching for the light.

The vision, the journey beyond knowing faded, moved on like a passing storm, leaving only blackness. New and opened, I thrust aside the old Claudia like a snake shedding its skin. My body floated, newborn out of ignorance into conscious knowing.

For a time I saw only blackness. Then somewhere in the distance a form appeared. It was
Tata
! He stood alone watching me, his face white and solemn.
Tata,
what is it?

"You have a duty, Claudia," he said at last. "You alone are left." My father turned, disappearing into the darkness. Somewhere far away, I heard Mother calling: "Marcus, Marcus. Wait! Don't go without me!"

T
HE WORLD ABOUT ME PITCHED RHYTHMICALLY FROM SIDE TO SIDE,
never still. Where was I? Steady throbbing echoed in my head. That pounding...what is it? I struggled to open my eyes.

"
Domina!
At last you are awake! We're on a boat. Galley slaves are taking us back to Antioch. Are you all right?"

"More than all right, Rachel"--a whisper all I could manage--"better than I have ever been." I wanted to say more, but could not. Wearily I closed my eyes and slept--who knew how long.

W
HEN
I
AWAKENED
, R
ACHEL WAS AGAIN BESIDE ME
. "A
SKLEPIOS, DID
he come to you?" she ventured.

I nodded weakly.

"Did he hurt you?"

"He saved me. That was his gift. He gave me back myself."

Rachel frowned, puzzled. "And the child?"

"There will be no child," I said, struggling to sit up.

"But,
Dominus
...do you no longer love him?"