“Which means?”
“That it should not be difficult for us to contrive to see each other....”
“Tonight?”
Claudia laughed. “Are you, I hope, that eager?”
“I’ve been that eager for many weeks, Claudia.” He leaned across to take her hand. She drew it back.
“Not now, Centurion. The soldiers, you know....”
“Then you are afraid of the Procurator’s knowing....”
“Not afraid, Longinus. Say, rather, discreet.”
Now they were being borne down a flight of stone steps. The hoofs of the horses in front of and behind them clattered and slipped, and sometimes an animal would go to its knees, though the heavily burdened donkeys coming up the stairs and keeping close to the buildings managed to scramble forward on nimble, sure feet. Sometimes a swaying load piled high on a donkey’s back would be overbalanced and topple as its containing straps burst, and in a moment the merchandise would be trampled to bits by the soldiers’ steeds.
When they reached the bottom of the steps and began to move along a level portion of the street where there was an open space between the buildings on the right, Claudia suddenly pointed. “That must be the old Hasmonean Palace where the ancestors of Herodias’ mother lived.”