37
The opening of the bedchamber door awakened Claudia; she sat up in bed.
“I’m sorry, Mistress,” Tullia said apologetically as she closed the door behind her. “I thought perhaps you had gone out.”
“It’s all right. I’ve slept enough. Those early trumpets awoke me, and I went out on the balcony and watched the services beginning. That was probably just a short while after you left. Then I came back to bed. But why have you returned so soon? Surely that water-pouring ceremony isn’t finished yet.” She paused and studied the slave maid. “By the gods, Tullia, something’s happened. I can see stars in your eyes. And you’re all out of breath; you’ve been running. Quickly, tell me, what is it?”
“Oh, Mistress,” Tullia burst out happily, “he’s down there! He’s down there right now, in the Court of the Gentiles. I ran back to tell you.”
“Longinus!” Claudia scrambled to her feet.
The stars dimmed. “I’m sorry, Mistress, I hadn’t meant to disappoint you. But yesterday you said you’d like to see him....”
“The Galilean?”
“Yes, Mistress, and he’s down there right now. Do you remember that woman who came with the Tetrarch Herod to Rome, the beautiful one called Mary of Magdala?”
“Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”