Domina Victrix

Chapter 8: 20 AD, Italian Peninsula and Province of Judea

Tiberius fumed as he paced the halls of Augustus' old palace at Somma Vesuviana, on the coast of Campania. Agrippina had landed at Brundisium, bearing her husband's ashes, and was getting a welcome fit for a conquering general. All along her route crowds lined up to cheer and civic authorities presented addresses extolling the late Germanicus. He reread Sejanus' report of which Senators and public officials were turning out to greet Agrippina. Germanicus' brother Claudius topped the list. Claudius fancied himself a scholar and had been writing a history of recent decades in Rome. Tiberius knew that Antony's grandson would be eager to praise him and make comparisons to the late Germanicus. He had nipped that in the bud by ordering Claudius not to publish the history.

The Emperor looked again through his correspondence from Rome, wondering how he could stop tripping over Mark Antony's progeny. With Germanicus' triumphs in Syria, Antony's statues had been pulled out of storage. Nostalgia for a long-lost hero led to more praise of his late grandson and speculation over Germanicus' death. Tiberius puttered around his study, muttering to himself, wondering why no one had deduced the obvious. Tiberius and his beloved Vipsania had a son, Drusus, named for Tiberius' brother. Both Tiberius and Drusus the Elder were capable military commanders but the older Drusus had also died young, leaving his eldest son Germanicus to be raised by Tiberius. The two cousins, Drusus and Germanicus, thus grew up together knowing it was Germanicus, as the older and later the better general, who would likely become emperor.

Tiberius pondered his tangled family tree. He hated his parents for divorcing and his stepfather Augustus for destroying his marriage to Vipsania. He envied Drusus his career, his beautiful wife Antonia, and their famous son. He admired Germanicus for his effortless victories in Illyrica, Germania, and later Syria. But there were others who did not, including Tiberius' aged mother and Augustus' widow, Empress Livia. Obviously, she had struck out at Germanicus to preserve her grandson Drusus' position. Tiberius could not prove it, but knew the answer.

....

Antonia Minor walked through the dining areas in her large townhouse on the Palatine Hill. She paused before her father's full-length statue, which stood in an alcove in her atrium. Nude and draped in a toga, he carried a baton of command in one hand, gesturing to something beyond the horizen with the other. Antonia had not yet been born when he left for Egypt and she never saw him again. She had no memory of him. Antonia's mother Octavia, sister of Augustus, had been praised for her humanity and love of learning. In addition to her two daughters by Antony, she raised his two boys by Fulvia, and three of Cleopatra's children among others. Antonia had grown up with Cleopatra's daughter Selene. Later, after Selene's death, Antonia raised her two nephews, Ptolemy and Juba of Mauretania.

Antonia let her mind unravel the memories of a short life with her husband, General Drusus Claudius Nero, who had died on campaign in Germania. He had left her a widow with two sons, Germanicus and Claudius, and a daughter Livilla. After Drusus' death, his brother Tiberius took custody of young Germanicus and Claudius. Antonia sighed. Tiberius had been decent enough during his years with Vipsania. Life with Augustus' daughter Julia, though, had twisted him into a monster. Both Germanicus and Juba had confided in her that the stories about Tiberius and children were true. Juba and Ptolemy had been more specific, telling her that Tiberius had done unmentionable things to Juba and others.

Thinking on it now, she wondered what he had done to Germanicus and how it had affected him. Germanicus knew that he was destined for the imperial diadem. He had grown up knowing that he was heir to the military glories of Julius and Augustus Caesar, Tiberius, his father and grandfather, both named Drusus, and of Mark Antony. Germanicus' victories in Illyrica and Germany had come too easy. Next was Syria, and a stepping stone to Parthia. Germanicus was a keen student of history. He knew that Antony had come close to toppling Parthia. He also knew that Antony had found in Cleopatra a woman to match his ambitions. Had Germanicus found that in Antioch? Victoria Antonia was not a queen, but her lineage on Tryphaena's side included Darius the Great of Persia, and Seleucius Nicator of Syria, as well as Mitbridates IV of Pontus. Victoria was also a student of history and languages, a crack rider, a keen shot, and she was pretty, beautiful if the reports were true. Had Germanicus found his Cleopatra?

Germanicus had six kids by Agrippina and they were thought to be in love. His mother doubted, though, that that would have stopped him. Her father loved each of his wives till he met the next. Antonia knew history, too. Alexander, Hannibal, Julius Caesar, all had gone from woman to woman and conquest to conquest. She studied her son's statue in an alcove across from Antony's. There was talk of deifying Germanicus and she hoped Tiberius' own ego would scotch that idea. She mulled Agrippina's accusations, lining up pros and cons. She doubted that anything had happened between Victoria and Germanicus but was certain the thought had crossed her son's mind and that, if given time, he would have acted on it.

"You're no god," she said to Germanicus' statue. "None of you are."

Soon, she would see Agrippina face to face and break the news that she, Antonia, would be taking custody of Drusus and Nero. In time, they would join Tiberius' court in Capri and Campania and the cycle would begin again. She hurried to her dressing room and shut the door as a cold chill raced over her. When that time came, she would be as powerless as Agrippina now was to stop it.

...

The town of Nazareth nestled in the rocky hills of Judea. Three days' walk from Jerusalem, and situated midpoint between the Sea of Galilee and the Mediterranean Sea, it was a town that most people passed through on the way to somewhere else, but few ever stopped to stay. In the house of Joseph the Carpenter, family and neighbors gathered to say their goodbyes to a man who had been a respected member of their community for years. Never missing from the synagogue on sabbath days, Joseph was often called on to read from the holy writings. People were shocked when, a few days before, Joseph appeared to have a stroke of some kind while sawing wood in the yard of his shop and died. He left behind a wife, Mary, an older son Yeshua, four younger boys, and two daughters.

All eyes were on Yeshua now as he led his mother and sisters from the house, following Joseph's linen-wrapped body on a bier. The rocky cliffs around the city made a convenient area for tombs. The procession passed through town headed toward a hill northwest of the city. Joseph's body was placed inside the cave. Yeshua and his oldest brother James helped other men in their family to roll a stone over the opening of the tomb. With the burial over, the procession returned to the family home. As the women prepared food and comforted one another, Yeshua thanked their guests for coming, pausing to assure some that he would fulfill their commissions at the capentry shop. The waning sunlight cut the gathering short as people hurried home to prepare for sabbath. Early next morning, a similar procession wound its way toward the synagogue. Once there, Yeshua stepped to the podium and found the scroll of Isaiah. He rolled it to his desired passage and began to read.

...He will swallow up death forever, and the Sovreign Lord will wipe away the tears from all faces...