stood alone, but she felt eyes on her from every quarter. A mist clung to the floor and the walls, making it impossible to see anything clearly. The voice stopped, and the silence that replaced it seemed more oppressive still.
Then she heard another noise. Something breathed upon the back of her neck.
In her dream, Leah twisted about to face a huge beast leering down at her. He wore the centurion’s skin, but the true creature lurking within the man was now revealed. The beast possessed a demon’s face and fangs as long as knives. He growled his intent and lunged toward her.
Leah shot upright and rose from her pallet at the end of Proc-ula’s bed. Her heart pounded in her chest and her limbs were so shaky she was forced to support herself on the edge of the bed. Moonlight turned the room silver and revealed that her mistress was both awake and watching her. “Was it that man?”
Leah could only shake her head numbly.
Procula rose to a seated position and motioned Leah down to sit beside her. “Did the prophet speak to you from beyond the grave?”
Leah sighed over the confusion and defeat that had chased her from her slumber. “No, mistress, my dream was not about the prophet.”
Procula slumped back against the pillows. It was doubtful she had even heard Leah. “I begged Pilate to have nothing to do with that man. But the whole Sanhedrin was on my husband like vipers, hissing and threatening to strike.” Procula wrung her hands. “I fear for Pilate. I fear for us all.”
Leah used the hem of her gown to wipe the sweat from her face. “I dreamed of . . . the centurion.”
Procula’s sat forward once more. Her gaze sharpened with her tone and her features. “I want you to listen to me. Your fate was sealed the moment you set foot in Pilate’s household. What you want means nothing. Your betrothal to the centurion will take place according to my husband’s timing.”
Leah had heard Procula use such a tone only a few times before. It was the voice of a woman who held the power of life and death, as cold as the moonlight that etched shadows into everything Leah saw.
Procula said, “Look at me.” When Leah lifted her chin, the woman continued, “I want you to do my bidding.”
“It is all I have done for nearly three years, mistress.”
“I am speaking about now. Our fate is tied up with the prophet’s.”
Leah blinked slowly, dragged from her dark well by the insistence in Procula’s words. “But . . . this man Jesus is now dead .”
“You heard what Pilate told your centurion. His body has vanished. The Jerusalem council claims it has been stolen by his disciples. Which makes sense, if they are planning to use his death as a rallying cry for revolution.” Procula’s head made a soft thump against the wall behind her pillow. “You do not know what it is like to face a provincial revolt,” she continued. “You cannot imagine. The Roman legions reveal an unspeakable brutality. Regardless of how the uprising ends, Pilate would be ruined. He is charged to keep the peace, and in the Roman senate’s eyes he would have failed. He would return to the emperor in disgrace. That is, if they permit him to return at all. More than likely, we would be banished.”
“But what can I do?”
“My family’s safety depends upon you and me. Pilate is at a loss as to how to find answers. I must know what is happening within this group. For the sake of us all, I must know . I want you to infiltrate the band of his disciples.”
“Mistress, you cannot mean this.”
“You are Judaean.”
“My grandmother, yes, but my mother scorned the religious Judaeans of her ancestry. I know nothing about them. Nothing!”
“You are Judaean,” Procula insisted. “You cannot be the only woman untrained in the old ways who seeks to know whatever it is they teach. Go to them. See what you can learn. And then you will report only to me. Do you hear? You will speak of what you learn only to me.”
Procula leaned
Then she heard another noise. Something breathed upon the back of her neck.
In her dream, Leah twisted about to face a huge beast leering down at her. He wore the centurion’s skin, but the true creature lurking within the man was now revealed. The beast possessed a demon’s face and fangs as long as knives. He growled his intent and lunged toward her.
Leah shot upright and rose from her pallet at the end of Proc-ula’s bed. Her heart pounded in her chest and her limbs were so shaky she was forced to support herself on the edge of the bed. Moonlight turned the room silver and revealed that her mistress was both awake and watching her. “Was it that man?”
Leah could only shake her head numbly.
Procula rose to a seated position and motioned Leah down to sit beside her. “Did the prophet speak to you from beyond the grave?”
Leah sighed over the confusion and defeat that had chased her from her slumber. “No, mistress, my dream was not about the prophet.”
Procula slumped back against the pillows. It was doubtful she had even heard Leah. “I begged Pilate to have nothing to do with that man. But the whole Sanhedrin was on my husband like vipers, hissing and threatening to strike.” Procula wrung her hands. “I fear for Pilate. I fear for us all.”
Leah used the hem of her gown to wipe the sweat from her face. “I dreamed of . . . the centurion.”
Procula’s sat forward once more. Her gaze sharpened with her tone and her features. “I want you to listen to me. Your fate was sealed the moment you set foot in Pilate’s household. What you want means nothing. Your betrothal to the centurion will take place according to my husband’s timing.”
Leah had heard Procula use such a tone only a few times before. It was the voice of a woman who held the power of life and death, as cold as the moonlight that etched shadows into everything Leah saw.
Procula said, “Look at me.” When Leah lifted her chin, the woman continued, “I want you to do my bidding.”
“It is all I have done for nearly three years, mistress.”
“I am speaking about now. Our fate is tied up with the prophet’s.”
Leah blinked slowly, dragged from her dark well by the insistence in Procula’s words. “But . . . this man Jesus is now dead .”
“You heard what Pilate told your centurion. His body has vanished. The Jerusalem council claims it has been stolen by his disciples. Which makes sense, if they are planning to use his death as a rallying cry for revolution.” Procula’s head made a soft thump against the wall behind her pillow. “You do not know what it is like to face a provincial revolt,” she continued. “You cannot imagine. The Roman legions reveal an unspeakable brutality. Regardless of how the uprising ends, Pilate would be ruined. He is charged to keep the peace, and in the Roman senate’s eyes he would have failed. He would return to the emperor in disgrace. That is, if they permit him to return at all. More than likely, we would be banished.”
“But what can I do?”
“My family’s safety depends upon you and me. Pilate is at a loss as to how to find answers. I must know what is happening within this group. For the sake of us all, I must know . I want you to infiltrate the band of his disciples.”
“Mistress, you cannot mean this.”
“You are Judaean.”
“My grandmother, yes, but my mother scorned the religious Judaeans of her ancestry. I know nothing about them. Nothing!”
“You are Judaean,” Procula insisted. “You cannot be the only woman untrained in the old ways who seeks to know whatever it is they teach. Go to them. See what you can learn. And then you will report only to me. Do you hear? You will speak of what you learn only to me.”
Procula leaned
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