Pilate's Wife by Antoinette May

Author:Antoinette May [May, Antoinette]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

IT TOOK A FEW DAYS TO BRIBE THE RIGHT SERVANT, BUT EVENTUALLY I learned Agrippina's whereabouts. Did Pilate imagine for a moment that I would not find her? Wrapped in Rachel's cloak, I stole out of the house, hurried down the hill to the main square, where I bargained for a litter. Inside, I settled down among the tired cushions, heart pounding. I had seen no one...but who might have seen me? The delatores were everywhere, notorious spies who pocketed one third of the estates of those against whom they informed. Dying of hunger would be terrible. But I had made the decision and had no intention of turning back. No longer able to contain my curiosity, I parted the heavy curtains and looked out. The neighborhood grew increasingly less alluring the farther we got from the Aventine.

Buildings crowded together, people crowded together. They cooked in the streets, laundered in the streets, haggled and fought, did everything in the streets. I closed the curtains firmly, but that couldn't block the raucous shouts, the loathsome smells. The litter twisted and turned. Where were we? I heard the runners I had hired shouting at beggars, beating off the more aggressive ones with their rods. My stola was plain but the gown beneath it...I wished I had worn something simpler. I opened the pouch at my waist; the dagger inside reassured me, a little.

Finally we came to a stop before a dark, uninviting building, a large rickety tenement built over a row of food stores. No wonder the head bearer had stared strangely at me when I told him the address. Now, helping me from the litter, he watched curiously as I looked uncertainly about. Motioning for him to wait, I pulled my stola closer and pushed open the unlocked door. Inside the dark foyer, the air was damp and foul. I saw no evidence of air vents as I ascended the narrow stairs. The walls were nothing more than cane and mortar. Judging from the stains and puddles on the floor, they could not be waterproof. Cats prowled the halls freely. I shuddered, thinking of their prey, but continued to climb, stopping to knock on every door. No one answered, though sometimes I heard hushed voices. Of what were they afraid? Panting, I reached the sixth and final floor. One door remained. I knocked tentatively, heard footsteps. A slave answered, cleanly dressed but so shabby. Silently, the woman led me down a dismal hall to a small rectangular room. At least Agrippina had a slave, I thought, as the woman removed my stola.

"Who is it?" a voice called out. I would have known it anywhere, but not the tone. Frightened. "Auntie!" I cried. "It is I, Claudia."

Agrippina rushed out from behind a curtain--an Agrippina I could scarcely recognize. Cruel years had darkened the tawny hair, stolen the sparkle from her eyes. Agrippina's voluptuous body had thickened. She hugged me close, and then stood back to look. "Pilate chose well. You are a credit to a man of his ambitions.

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