around her neck. The rubies and emeralds in the necklace shone against her lovely pale skin, and she embraced him again in gratitude for such a lavish gift. He held her close for a moment, then offered her his arm and went to the peristyle garden, where Proculus and his wife Marcia were waiting.
“Your daughter has accepted my proposal,” said Pilate.
“Excellent!” said Proculus, clapping him heartily on the back. Marcia hugged their daughter and gave Pilate a guarded smile. “Have you given any thought to where you will live?” asked the father of the bride.
“I will be taking my captives to the slave market tomorrow,” said Pilate. “I got first pick of the lot, and they should fetch top price. I also should be receiving my share of the plunder we took from the Germans soon. That will provide me more than enough wealth to purchase a nice house. I am thinking I should like to live outside the city walls, but close enough to easily ride into town.”
“There is a nice house for sale in the Aventine District,” said Marcia.
“I was not aware there were any nice houses in the Aventine!” said Pilate—the district was mainly known for its large markets, stores, taverns, and brothels.
“That’s not entirely true,” said Proculus. “The heart of the district has gone to seed, but along the east side there are some very nice homes. Understand, we are not making any sort of conditions—but we would appreciate your taking a look, at least. It’s the most suitable residence we have found yet.”
“Exactly how long have you been looking?” asked Pilate.
“Roughly speaking, since you returned to Rome and had dinner with us,” replied his future father-in-law.
So it was that, a week before midsummer, Lucius Pontius Pilate and Procula Porcia were married in the garden of her parents’ home. Tiberius himself presided over the ceremony in his office as Pontifex Maximus, and the Emperor sent a beautiful pair of silver drinking goblets as a wedding gift to the happy couple. Pilate then took his bride to his new home in the Aventine, which, as his in-laws had promised, was comfortable, well-appointed, and in a respectable neighborhood. Procula was a delightful spouse—attentive and always proper in public, affectionate and even sensual when they were alone. Pilate would always remember those first few weeks in their new home as some of the happiest days of his life.
Two weeks after the wedding, Pilate’s father collapsed at home, and died the next day. He had been growing steadily weaker all along, and was unable to stand during most of the wedding ceremony, which he insisted on attending even though it tired him. Pilate’s oldest brother, Cornelius Septimus, had made it back to Rome in time for the wedding and was still there when the elder Pilate passed away. The two brothers took care of the funeral arrangements and staged gladiatorial games in their father’s honor, as befitted a Senator and former praetor. After the games were concluded, they discussed the disposal of the family home. As eldest son, Pilate had been given the choice in his father’s will to either take the home for himself, give it to one of his younger brothers, or sell it, as long as he provided a place for his mother to live for the remainder of her days. He would never have considered turning her out of the home she loved, but since he had just purchased such a suitable residence for himself, he agreed to sign ownership of the family home over to Cornelius.
That fall Pilate stood for election as Tribune of the Plebs, with discreet financial backing from Tiberius. He finished second in the polls, which meant that he would be second in seniority out of the ten tribunes elected. It was a very respectable finish for a relative political neophyte, but Romans were always fond of young war heroes. Pilate found that he enjoyed the job immensely; crafting legislation and debating public policy were satisfying activities. He found that
“Your daughter has accepted my proposal,” said Pilate.
“Excellent!” said Proculus, clapping him heartily on the back. Marcia hugged their daughter and gave Pilate a guarded smile. “Have you given any thought to where you will live?” asked the father of the bride.
“I will be taking my captives to the slave market tomorrow,” said Pilate. “I got first pick of the lot, and they should fetch top price. I also should be receiving my share of the plunder we took from the Germans soon. That will provide me more than enough wealth to purchase a nice house. I am thinking I should like to live outside the city walls, but close enough to easily ride into town.”
“There is a nice house for sale in the Aventine District,” said Marcia.
“I was not aware there were any nice houses in the Aventine!” said Pilate—the district was mainly known for its large markets, stores, taverns, and brothels.
“That’s not entirely true,” said Proculus. “The heart of the district has gone to seed, but along the east side there are some very nice homes. Understand, we are not making any sort of conditions—but we would appreciate your taking a look, at least. It’s the most suitable residence we have found yet.”
“Exactly how long have you been looking?” asked Pilate.
“Roughly speaking, since you returned to Rome and had dinner with us,” replied his future father-in-law.
So it was that, a week before midsummer, Lucius Pontius Pilate and Procula Porcia were married in the garden of her parents’ home. Tiberius himself presided over the ceremony in his office as Pontifex Maximus, and the Emperor sent a beautiful pair of silver drinking goblets as a wedding gift to the happy couple. Pilate then took his bride to his new home in the Aventine, which, as his in-laws had promised, was comfortable, well-appointed, and in a respectable neighborhood. Procula was a delightful spouse—attentive and always proper in public, affectionate and even sensual when they were alone. Pilate would always remember those first few weeks in their new home as some of the happiest days of his life.
Two weeks after the wedding, Pilate’s father collapsed at home, and died the next day. He had been growing steadily weaker all along, and was unable to stand during most of the wedding ceremony, which he insisted on attending even though it tired him. Pilate’s oldest brother, Cornelius Septimus, had made it back to Rome in time for the wedding and was still there when the elder Pilate passed away. The two brothers took care of the funeral arrangements and staged gladiatorial games in their father’s honor, as befitted a Senator and former praetor. After the games were concluded, they discussed the disposal of the family home. As eldest son, Pilate had been given the choice in his father’s will to either take the home for himself, give it to one of his younger brothers, or sell it, as long as he provided a place for his mother to live for the remainder of her days. He would never have considered turning her out of the home she loved, but since he had just purchased such a suitable residence for himself, he agreed to sign ownership of the family home over to Cornelius.
That fall Pilate stood for election as Tribune of the Plebs, with discreet financial backing from Tiberius. He finished second in the polls, which meant that he would be second in seniority out of the ten tribunes elected. It was a very respectable finish for a relative political neophyte, but Romans were always fond of young war heroes. Pilate found that he enjoyed the job immensely; crafting legislation and debating public policy were satisfying activities. He found that
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