by D. S.
Day of Sol – I
“Easily the most spectacular thing I’ve ever seen!” exclaimed Aliyah.
“You haven’t seen enough in your short life, little one,” Ziva chided.
“It was more spectacular than I imagined,” Sabrina admitted. “All this for a simple rabbi?”
Aurelia and Julia had received patients all day, leaving the others to attend the procession as they wished. Only Tatiana had come back early, saying that the crowds were too much for her. The high priestess finished wrapping a merchant’s foot and sent him off.
“Tell me about it.”
“They were shouting ‘hoshana!’ and throwing palm leaves in front of his donkey.” Aliyah flopped down on a bench reserved for patients. “What does that even mean?”
“It’s a praise word,” Hadas explained as she began to help Aurelia put away supplies in anticipation of the afternoon rest. “Some think it means ‘save us’, but others say it may mean ‘savior’. Given the stories you tell about Yeshua, it’s probably the latter.”
“Did he wave?”
“As in a triumphal parade?” asked Claudia. “No, My Lady. I saw his disciples whisper to him as if they would have such a thing, but he only did it once or twice, and only at their urging.”
Julia sat down. “Yeshua’s disciples scare me. I wonder if they are not more at fault for the Sanhedrin’s anger than he is willing to see.”
Hadas and Aurelia looked at each other as the rest of the priestesses sat down around the room.
“What did the rabbi say?” asked Livia.
“Some, of course, I may not repeat,” the high priestess replied. “Yeshua—he told me to call him ‘Josh,’ but I will do so only in his presence—Yeshua told me how he felt called to the ministry at a young age. How he was certain, even as a boy, that he was supposed to spread the word of his god.
“I heard tell that he argued during the public teachings when he was younger,” said Ziva.
“That wouldn’t surprise me.”
“What is this all about?” Aurelia finally reclined on a bench. “Is he so magnificent a rabbi that he needs a celebration to accompany him into Jerusalem?”
Julia took a slow, deep breath and carefully avoided the gaze of the others. “Yeshua ben Miriam will be executed by the end of the week.”
That threw the other priestesses into an uproar.
“What?”
“I knew he was going to piss off Pilatus!”
“We have to do something!”
“Can you stop it?”
And on and on, until,
“My Lady, say something!”
The high priestess turned to Livia. “What would you have me say? I am not the Chief Priestess of the College of Vestals…I have no stay of execution.”
“Then call upon her!” Ziva demanded. “You saw him! You liked him! You would have him killed?”
“What happens when the prefect learns that I’ve spoken with the Chief Vestal?” Julia replied. “He’ll say that I influenced her decision and render it null and void. Yeshua would still die and all our effort would be for nothing!”
“How do you know he will die?” asked Aurelia. “Has Pilatus issued an arrest order?”
“That is one thing of which I may not speak,” the high priestess said. “There is no order yet, but there will be.”
The silence lengthened unbearably. It was Aurelia who spoke first.
“It is time to go to our rest. If we wait any longer, penitents will be pounding on our door at suppertime!”
Day of Sol – II
The maiden found Julia in a tiny chapel in the furthest corner of the sanctuary. Barely enough room for two small benches, the chapel bore a niche with a statue of Athena, whom the priestesses had purified and re-blessed as the personification of Sekhmet. The high priestess didn’t come here often, but when she did, she preferred not to be disturbed.
“My Lady, I need to speak with you.”
“I will broach no more discussion on the subject.”
Livia stopped, confused. “That is not of what I speak.”
Julia sat back on one of the benches, but did not look at her lieutenant. “What, then?”
“We usually have a ceremony and banquet to counter Passover.” The supplicants especially need one this year was left unspoken.
“The other priestesses would have us celebrate the Night of Tears early.”
Livia considered this. The Night of Tears marked the time in which Isis was said to flood the Nile with her tears for the loss of Osiris. Unusually appropriate in light of the situation.
“Do you think the impending execution bothers them that much?”
The high priestess finally turned around. “Were you suddenly rendered deaf when they implored me to help? When I said that I could not intervene, they were practically on their knees, begging me to speak with the Chief Vestal.”
“Perhaps it is not the younger priestesses in which I should worry about indifference.”
“We will have a late supper,” Julia decided. “In the darkest hour, we will make our way to the reflecting pool, where we will celebrate our Lady in her aspect as moon goddess.”
Day of Luna
“Domina Drusilla Claudia Tiberii requests an audience with the Domina Templum, one Gaia Julia Gregorii.”
Claudia and Sabrina were on duty that morning and looked at each other in confusion while the herald waited expectantly.
After a moment, Sabrina said, “D’you mean Lady Julia?”
“The domina says you call her as much.”
“Who is this domina that you serve?” asked Claudia.
The herald lowered his voice. “Claudia, wife of the prefect Pontius Pilatus!”
At that name, the priestess disappeared. The herald watched her go, then turned to Sabrina.
“I hope she’s going to find Domina Julia.”
Sabrina and the herald waited for several minutes in uneasy silence, until Aurelia appeared.
“Lady Julia will see you in the per medjat.”
“Of course.” He nodded and strolled away.
“Where’s Claudia?” Sabrina murmured.
“She said she didn’t feel comfortable with the prefect’s wife here. I set her to sorting out the acacia leaves and turning the plants. If by chance she finishes before one of us comes for her, I told her to take notes for Hadas.”
Domina Claudia’s arrival was heralded by the clink of hobnailed sandals. Sabrina and Aurelia expected an imperious woman with a perpetual tilt to her nose, as if she would rather be anywhere but the temple. Instead, they received a petite, demure little thing who looked as if it had taken all her courage to sneak out of the house. The assistant healer stepped forward and confiscated the weapons of the soldiers who had accompanied their guest.
“No swords in the house of the Lady.” She produced half a dozen quarter staves. “Only these are permitted to our priestesses.”
Some of our ladies are proficient archers, Aurelia thought, but I don’t want you getting any ideas.
The guards followed Sabrina and Aurelia to the doors of the per medjat and Aurelia had to persuade them to stay outside. When the high priestess granted them admission, Aurelia was secretly pleased to see that she was reading a scroll written in Demotic, a language that the prefect’s wife surely did not know.
“May I present Domina Drusilla Claudia Tiberii?”
“Thank you, Aurelia.” Julia folded the scroll and laid it aside. “You may go.”
“I need to speak with you,” Claudia said in urgent Aramaic, before Aurelia was hardly out the door. “I had a dream.”
“Then I shall fetch Ziva.” The high priestess rose. “She is the best at interpreting dreams.”
“No!” The prefect’s wife put a hand on Julia’s arm. “It must be you.”
She raised an eyebrow and returned to her seat. “I will try my best, but I cannot assure you of anything.”
“I dreamed that there was a great island jutting out
of a body of water. On a headland stood a great castle of brown stone, with windows and walls as far as the eye could see. After a moment, the view turned and I could see a small but prosperous village behind it. It was from this angle that I watched the water lap against the shore and the sun set. Time must have sped up then…it was only a short time before the sun came up. In the morning, the castle was gone, ruined beyond all repair. A wave must have come over the island in the middle of the night, because the village was in shreds. The difference though, was that while the lord of the manor had fled, the villagers were trying their best to eke out a living with what they had left. Before the dream ended, I heard my husband’s laughter.”
Claudia let the silence lapse for a moment before she said, “I think it has to do with The Rabbi.”
The high priestess acknowledged the significance of these words with a slight nod. “I would ask you what makes you think that your dream concerns Yeshua ben Miriam, but it is no secret that he is ill-loved here in Jerusalem.”
“What does my husband have to do with it?”
“I imagine that someone intends to work against Pontius. Someone—or a group of persons—wants to see The Rabbi dead. If they can convince the prefect to assassinate Yeshua ben Miriam, then so much the better.”
“But my hus—Pontius—would never do that!” Claudia protested. “He knows that The Rabbi is a good man, that he preaches tolerance and acceptance of those who are not like him. He preaches love!”
“Others don’t see Yeshua that way,” Julia warned. “They see him as a troublemaker, as an instigator. He doesn’t follow the rules the way Moses and the prophets did. My priestesses tell me that some call him the King of the Jews.”
“He’s too humble for that.”
“I had the opportunity to meet him the other day and I agree. This is a man that wants to be friends with all who will have him, from the grandest tetrarch to the lowest beggar. This is not a man who wants to destroy the establishment. Maybe make it a little itchy, but certainly not destroy it.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
The high priestess contemplated the issue at length. “I wouldn’t tell Pontius that you had the dream. I understand that he’s not the most gentle of husbands and I wouldn’t want you to suffer. It happens that we have a priestess by the name of Claudia. Tell him that our Claudia had the dream and you found out about it…”
“Because I had trouble sleeping?” Claudia suggested. “I came to…”
“Aurelia, the priestess who escorted you. She’s of Roman descent.”
“All right. I went to see Aurelia for…”
“A sleeping draft. Chamomile, rosehips, lavender, valerian, linden…if he gets specific.”
“Right, and Claudia came to me while I was waiting to see Aurelia. She shared her dream with me because she was very concerned and hoped that I might get word to my husband.”
“Excellent.”
They discussed a few more minor things and then Julia fetched Sabrina to see Claudia and her guards out to the portico. When the women were gone, the high priestess shook her head at the closed door.
“Too bad he’s going to die anyway.”
Day of Mars – I
Julia walked the line, her confusion evident. Each of them was clearly Roman, yet they did not bear the markings of the equestrian or senatorial classes. The stamping of impatient hooves outside told her that they were not alone.
“You said that you were sent by Domina Claudia?”
“Yes, My Lady,” their leader said in Aramaic.
“Why?”
“Lady Claudia overheard Lord Pontius tell certain staff members that he intended to summon you sometime today. Lady Claudia wanted to ensure that you looked your very best—”
“So she sent her entire household?”
The leader chuckled. “Not quite, My Lady. I am Mihalis, Lady Claudia’s chamberlain. The other man with me is Caius, the master of the wardrobe. We also have Calista, the slave in charge of cosmetics.”
A full-figured woman with blonde hair bowed.
“Nadia, the jeweler.”
The Assyrian woman nodded.
“And Melinda, Lady Claudia’s hairstylist.
“Do you have somewhere we can work, My Lady?”
“My chamber is fine.”
“We’ll clear out one of the treatment areas,” Tatiana interjected. “Bring your things in there.”
Mihalis thanked her gratefully and hollered something in street Latin. A gang of tanned men began hauling in chests and crates, while the slaves Mihalis had introduced did their best to slip outside.
“One of the treatment areas?” Julia repeated. “Is that really necessary?”
“Domina Claudia is a wealthy woman,” Tatiana reminded her. “She likely sent at least a quarter of her wardrobe and jewelry; not to mention that the stylist and the makeup artist need space to work.”
The chamberlain spotted the high priestess and scooted over to her. “Is there a brazier in that treatment area? Melinda will need a place to heat her curling tongs.”
Day of Mars – II
“What do you think of this blue outfit?”
Mihalis shook his head. “Too light. This is a high priestess we’re talking about, Caius. We want to ensure His Lordship never forgets her!”
“What about this one?”
“Too sheer. Here, let me.” The chamberlain dove into a pile of clothes.
“Will you two children stop fighting?” Melinda demanded. “If I leave these tongs in the fire any longer, they’ll burn my hands off!”
“Here, the shoulders are open on this chiton.” Mihalis held up a dress of an indeterminate royal blue material. “Caius, start brushing out the Lady’s hair. I’ll get this on her. Nadia, can you find some fibulae to do her shoulders?
“No, My Lady, don’t sit down,” he urged. “You’ll only make this harder!”
Caius gamely began struggling to brush Julia’s hair while Mihalis did his best to get the chiton on her. After a moment, they allowed her to sit down, but Caius still had to bob back and forth to avoid Nadia who was struggling with the fibulae.
“I swear, she never wears these,” the jeweler grumbled. “Why on earth would she send them if they were hard to open?”
“Because Lady Claudia never wears them!” Caius repeated. “And why are you grumbling? I’m the master of the wardrobe and I’m brushing the high priestess’s hair!”
Julia had no experience in the higher class Roman homes, but from what she had learned as a girl, titled slaves were very touchy about their positions. It was likely that Caius had only consented to brush her hair because all they had were the five of them and the wagon drivers. At home, there would be a bevy of slaves—including half a dozen beneath Melinda—who could be assigned to brushing.
“What kind of stone is that?” the high priestess asked as a silver fibula flew past the corner of her eye.
“Lapis,” Nadia replied. “It’s the only thing that looks good with this chiton. We can get it in great piles from Egypt, but Lady Claudia rarely wears this shade of blue.
“There! Come on, Calista! If you don’t get in here and do her cosmetics, Mihalis will be badgering you, next!”
Calista waved her off. The chamberlain was busy consulting with Melinda on the state of the high priestess’s hair and would be furious if she started on the cosmetics too soon.
“My Lady, do you plait your hair?”
“Regularly,” Julia replied.
“What about the plaited crown?” asked Melinda.
“Too simplistic,” Mihalis replied. “Can you imagine that with all of Lady Claudia’s jewels and cosmetics on her? No…out of the question!”
The two slaves stopped conferring directly and began to fuss and bother over Julia’s hair. Melinda called several times for Nadia to bring her pins, but the chamberlain swatted her away. Caius rolled his eyes about the time the high priestess heard the clink of the tongs lifting off the brazier.
“Just about,” said Mihalis as he supervised Melinda twirling up a lock of hair. “But don’t start on the cosmetics yet…I don’t want you jostling the Lady’s head.”
“Lady Julia, do you have any jewels reserved for the use of the high priestess?” Caius asked after a bit. “I’m sure Mihalis and Nadia would like to go over them while Calista is doing your cosmetics.”
Julia directed Nadia to Livia, who would certainly open the vault with her permission. There were a few torques, armbands and rings; enough to wear to meet the emperor on a few separate occasions, but nothing to make the temple tremendously wealthy.
“Should I go light on her makeup?” Calista was finally opening her cases of cosmetics.
“Y—”
“No!” Melinda interrupted. “We want to make her look like a goddess. Right, Caius?”
“Absolutely!” he exclaimed. “Lady Julia is a representative of Isis on Earth! We want to make sure Lord Pontius knows that Lady Julia is queen wherever the Goddess’s word is law!”
“Gold powder for most of her body,” the hairstylist commanded. “Lapis powder for the lids, kohl for the lashes, some of that red stuff for her lips…do you have a white cream that you can use instead of sweeps of kohl onto the temples?”
“What about scent?” Caius added. “We want His Lordship to think of paradise, don’t we? Calista, do you have jasmine oil?”
The remaining slaves worked furiously, so that when Nadia returned with the jewels, they were ready. The jeweler placed a silver collar around the high priestess’s neck and bands in the shape of vines around each arm. After pawing through a pile of rings, Caius handed her a pair of lapis, one for each hand. Mihalis started to grumble that the rings didn’t match the motif, when he was distracted by the fact that Julia’s ears weren’t pierced.
“Grab those small silver hoops,” he ordered. “We’ll pierce them right now.”