“Well, yes, but....”
“Oh, I know, Claudia, you must be careful, must guard your tongue. But you needn’t worry about my making indiscreet remarks, you know.” She shrugged. “I haven’t thus far, have I? And I’ve known all along. And now”—she did not wait for Claudia to answer her question—“the time has come for us to strike out for what both of us want. Soon Longinus will be going back to Rome, and more than likely this time he’ll have much to tell the Prefect.”
“But, Herodias....”
The Tetrarchess laughed and shrugged. “Oh, nobody has told me anything,” she said, “but I do have eyes and ears and an ability to put things together. I know that Senator Piso and Sejanus are more than friends; they’re bound to be business partners, for Sejanus, you may be sure, has his fingers in any enterprise that has been operating with considerable success. I know that Longinus has had unusual freedom for a centurion presumably on active duty and that he has made trips back to Rome, to Antioch, and to many another place that no centurion ordinarily would be called on to visit in the course of duty. And you told me, remember, that he was being sent out to Palestine on a special mission.” She paused, and when Claudia made no comment, she smiled and gestured with outflung hands. “Well, it makes little difference whether he was sent out to watch Pilate or not, and maybe Antipas and me ...” she paused, grinning, “and possibly even you, Claudia. He’ll probably be called back to Rome soon to make some sort of report, even about the operation of the Senator’s glassworks....”
“But how would that affect you and Antipas, and Pilate ... and maybe me?”
“Longinus might be called back to Rome to report on Pilate’s ... well, shortcomings.”
“Even then I fail to understand how....”
“This is the way I envision what might easily happen should he be ordered to Rome,” Herodias interrupted. “Longinus certainly must have strong influence with Sejanus, because he’s Senator Piso’s son, for one thing. Should he point out, and with emphasis, Pilate’s failures as an administrator—and certainly he’d have little trouble supporting his charge—he might very likely cause the Prefect to dismiss Pilate as Procurator or move him to another province. And with Pilate disgraced, surely you would be permitted to divorce him.” She smiled and airily lifted her hands. “Then, my dear, you could marry Longinus and return to Rome to live.”
“Maybe so. But even then how would that affect you and Antipas?”
Herodias leaned toward her hostess, her expression intent. “Suppose Pilate is dismissed, transferred, even, by the gods, beheaded....” Her eyes narrowed. “That would cause you no grief, would it?” But she did not pause for Claudia’s comment. “Then Sejanus, regardless of Pilate’s fate, might extend Antipas’ realm to include Judaea, don’t you see, and elevate him to kingship. And I”—she sat back and smiled felinely—“would be queen.” Quickly the smile vanished. “And I shall never be content, Claudia, until I’m a queen. Why, soon as Tetrarchess I’ll have no higher station than little Salome.” She paused, her expression suddenly questioning. “Did you know that she is marrying Herod Philip?”