Free Salome by Beatrice Gormley

courtiers filled the rest of the carriages according to their rank. Antipas’s soldiers, armed with swords and spears, rode before us and behind us.
    As Herodias and I settled ourselves on the cushions, Herodias’s maid, Iris, handed in a bag of roses. “They say we pass by some dreadful-smelling towns, my ladies.”
    “Oh, yes,” said Herodias. “We’ll need to bury our noses in something sweet.” She explained to me, “The natives don’t use Roman sanitation, except in the cities that the Herods built.”
    Herodias was still in a good mood this morning, chatting as if she’d never been angry with me over spotting her yellow silk
stola
—or was it over the way my stepfather had looked at me? “I see you’re wearing the opal earrings today,” she remarked. “They’re a little dressy, perhaps, for traveling—but why shouldn’t you enjoy them?” She smiled indulgently.
    On the way out of the city Herodias pointed out the massive arched aqueduct that brought water to Caesarea. “My grandfather built that. As well as this road. Do you notice how smooth it is? It’s as good as any Roman highway.”
    I was in a cheerful mood, too. Maybe Herodias was more respectful of me after seeing me as a young woman. She reported how Antipas had instructed her to behave (she didn’t know I’d overheard at the races), quoting his words in a pompous voice. I laughed and laughed. It was delightful to hear her making fun of Antipas for a change instead of going on about how wonderful he was.
    “How did you like the mock battle yesterday?” Herodias changed the subject. “Wasn’t the Governor the most entertaining part of it?” She made me laugh again with her wicked imitation of Governor Pilate, jumping up and down as he cheered on the fighters in the amphitheater. “You’d think that clod was the victorious general himself. Obviously he believes his stint in the Roman army was the best time of his life. It probably was, poor fellow.”
    “I felt sorry for the gladiators,” I said. “Did you see the two friends fighting back to back? They were the only ones left against the trident wielders.”
    “My pet.” Herodias leaned forward to stroke my cheek. “I understand how you feel, but you need to realize that those men in the arena are desperate criminals. They deserve to die. Do you know what helped me when I started watching the games? I pretended I was looking at a battle in a wall painting, only the figures moved. Or I’d tell myself, We in the stands are like the gods on Mount Olympus, watching mortals fight for our entertainment. The games have nothing to do with us.”
    I tried, just for a moment, to picture yesterday’s gladiator fights the way she advised. But what flashed in my mind was the instant when one of the fighting friends crumpled to the ground, wounded. Crying out, the other gladiator bent over him. Then he, too, was struck down. The crowd cheered for the victorious trident wielders, and slaves dragged the bodies away.
    I pushed the memory away, but then instead I remembered that foggy morning on the
Ceres
when Simon had disappeared. “Herodias,” I said suddenly, “what really happened to Simon?”
    She gave an annoyed laugh. “How your mind skips around! It was a pity about Simon, but he was such a fool, even aside from…He actually hinted that he’d ask for your hand in marriage if we gave him any encouragement.”
    Herodias had not answered my question. But before I could protest, she turned the conversation to our new life in Tiberias. There would be boat trips on the lake, and we’d go to the theater and the spa. Tiberias had a fine marketplace, attracting traders from Gaul in the northwest of the Empire, from Babylon in the southeast, and beyond. Oh!—and especially for me, Herodias had spoken to Antipas about building a shrine to Diana.
    It was pleasant to be alone with my mother, like old times, and so I didn’t remind her that I was to be married off, probably far from