“Thank you, Centurion, for bringing it; it has been quite a responsibility, I know.” The Prefect’s darting eyes, Longinus saw, had examined the package already. The centurion, appraising Sejanus in the short moment he had been in the ornate chamber, had observed no change in the Prefect’s appearance. Judging by the man’s looks and demeanor, it might well have been only yesterday that they had last met. The small, cold eyes were just as carefully calculating as they had been the day the Prefect had given Longinus his orders and sent him and Cornelius eastward aboard the “Palmyra.” Now the eyes were disarmingly friendly. “My purpose in having it so well sealed was not because I didn’t trust you, Longinus, but because I wished the manager at the glassworks to know that no one but himself could be blamed in the event that the contents were subsequently found short. I knew that he would therefore make sure that the packet left Phoenicia intact.” The blinking, small eyes narrowed. “So actually, you see, it was a protection for you.” With a flourish of the hand he motioned to the chair in front of the massive desk. “Sit down, Centurion.”

“Thank you, sir.” Longinus took the seat and faced the Prefect.

Sejanus leaned forward and crossed his hands on the desk. “In all likelihood, Centurion, you’ve been wondering why I summoned you to Rome.”

“I have wondered, sir.”

“Yes, I’m sure you have. And I’m sure you’ve also guessed that I dispatched my message to you before receiving your report.”

“I had presumed so, sir.”

“And right you were. Had I received the report but a few days earlier I would not have summoned you here. But once I’d received your communication, I had no way of countermanding my order to you so that you would get it before sailing for Rome.” He sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest; his entire attitude radiated good humor. “But I’m glad it happened as it did, Longinus. I’d rather like to hear in person from you concerning the situation in Palestine. It was a good report, Centurion, and comprehensive, so far as such written reports go. But I had the feeling in reading it that you might have had further information to give had you been able to talk with me directly. Perhaps discretion had cramped your writing hand.” Now his smile was disarming. “But here, with no ears to hear us but our own, we can talk with complete freedom. I, too, can say things that I would not dare write.”

The Prefect unfolded his arms and, leaning forward, drummed his fingers on the desk. He studied the centurion briefly through narrowed eyes, then sat back again.

“How did you leave the Procurator, Longinus?”

“He was quite well, sir, when I left him at Caesarea. But your message overtook me at Tiberias, and I had then been away from Caesarea for some time. I went on to the glassworks and sailed from Tyre, as you suggested.”

“Then you have seen Herod Antipas quite recently?”

“Yes, sir. I saw the Tetrarch and Herodias and told them good-by just before leaving Tiberias. I had escorted them to Galilee from their landing at Caesarea.”

“And how did the daughter of King Aretas accept Herod’s new wife?”

“She didn’t, sir. She has left him and returned to her father. She....”

“By winged Mercury!” Sejanus lunged forward and slammed his fist against the desk. “Gone, you say? Fled to Aretas? By great Jupiter! But this you did not report, Longinus!”

“Sir, Herod didn’t know she was gone until we arrived at his capital. I was preparing to dispatch a report to you when I received your summons, and then I decided I would bring the report in person, instead.” He ventured a wan smile, and the Prefect himself relaxed.

“I understand; you did right, Centurion.” Then his countenance darkened, and his narrow forehead wrinkled. “This is a matter of considerable moment; I shall come back to it presently.” He shook his head. “Yes, it could have dire repercussions. But for the moment, let us speak of more pleasant things.” His small weasel-like face lighted with a thin but suggestive smile. “Longinus, when did you last see Claudia? How is the Procurator’s wife?”

“I saw her in Tiberias the day before I left there for Phoenicia, sir. Herodias and Herod Antipas had invited her to accompany them to Tiberias for a visit.”

“And Pilate didn’t object to her going up into Galilee with them ... and you?” He licked his lips and drew them in thin lines across his teeth.

“If he did, sir, he did not indicate anything of the sort to me.”

“I’m sure the Procurator would do nothing that he thought might displease the Emperor’s stepdaughter. But what he thinks, however, is a different matter, isn’t it?”

“I’m sure it is, sir.” Longinus expected momentarily that the Prefect would begin plying him with intimately personal questions concerning his relations with the Procurator’s wife, and he wondered desperately how he should answer. But, happily, Sejanus turned away from the Procurator’s affairs to return to a discussion of the Tetrarch’s.

“You were saying a moment ago, Longinus”—the familiar scowl had returned to the Prefect’s face—“that Herod’s wife has gone back to old Aretas. Have you had any reports concerning his feelings toward Herod for the way his daughter has been treated?”

“He was greatly angered, according to reports coming back to Galilee, sir.”

Sejanus shook his head slowly. “No doubt.” He reflected a moment. “Has there been any talk of possible reprisal?”

“There has been some talk that Aretas might attempt to punish Herod. But that would mean war, sir, and war with us Romans. So I feel that Aretas would hardly be so foolhardy as to attempt to send an army against Herod.”

“I hardly think so, either, Centurion. But a father will sometimes do foolish things when his daughter’s honor is at stake. If Aretas should challenge Herod, that will mean war, and war is expensive, Longinus. The cost in terms of both men and money is exorbitant ... and useless. War would also mean loss of work and production and loss of revenue in addition to the expenditure of revenue already collected.” His frown deepened. “By the great gods, I should never have permitted Herod to have Herodias. He has not only offended his own people; he has now set King Aretas against him ... and us!”