I don’t remember living with my first father.  I was only three years old when my mother Herodias took me and divorced him.  He was a Herod, just like my dad, and I learned later that the two Herods were brothers, and their father, too.  Mother would never talk about my first father.  I guess it made Daddy angry to hear about it.

Daddy always loved me.  He gave me everything I ever asked for, fine dresses and silk veils and more jewelry than anyone could ever want.  I used to sit in my chamber with Mother, and we would take out all of the gifts Daddy had given me.  Mother would wrap the veils around her shoulders and pretend to be different women we knew.  She was so funny — I would laugh and laugh, until I fell onto my pallet, and then she would tickle me until neither of us could talk.

A couple weeks ago, Mother wrapped up every inch of her body in silks and veils. She pretended to fan herself, and she giggled and said, “Do you know who I am, Salome?”

“I don’t know,” I replied.  “You don’t look like my Mother…”

“No, silly!  But I should have been the one to give your Daddy a little girl!”

I didn’t know what she meant.  What other woman could have given Daddy a girl?  It was just Daddy and Mother and me.  Well, and all of Daddy’s soldiers and friends, but they were all men.

Mother giggled at me again and wiggled her hips.  “I’m Phasaelis, silly girl!  Don’t you remember me?”

I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head.  Mother pulled the veil from over her mouth and sat down on my pallet.  I sat down next to her, wondering what this was about.

“Salome, you know how you had another father, before we came to live with your Daddy?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Well, your Daddy had another wife before we moved here, too.  Only his wife came from Nabatea, from that weak king who doesn’t know anything about power.”

I gasped.  “Another wife?”

“That’s right!” said Mother, her lips pursing in disapproval.  “But your Daddy made a much better choice in me, in us, little one.  He knows that we can help him, make him stronger.  Maybe someday he could even be a Caesar!”

“Really, Mother?  I thought only the Caesar’s son could be the new Caesar.”

Mother winked at me.  “That’s the easy way.  But if you aren’t lucky in your birth, then you can make your own luck through power.  I’m helping your Daddy understand true power, and he knows I can help him to be much more than a ruler of this godsforsaken country so far from Rome.”  She twirled the veils around her wrists, around her fingers.  Then, Mother looked hard at me, and she spoke again.  “Of course, you’re just about 11 years old now, Salome.  Pretty soon, Daddy and I will make you a match, find you a strong man to marry.  Won’t that be wonderful?”

I shivered at the thought.  Me?  Married?  I wasn’t ready to think about that yet!  Not when there were so many wonderful things to do here in the palace — singing lessons and dancing lessons and feasts and games and afternoons with Mother.

“Silly girl!” Mother exclaimed.  “You’ll like being married, being queen of your own palace.  And we’ll find you a good match, someone who can bring even more glory to your Daddy.  You want your Daddy to be happy and rich, don’t you?”

I nodded, biting my lower lip.  Mother was looking at me expectantly, so I said, “Yes, Mother.”

“Don’t worry, child.  You’re starting some new lessons this week.  I’m going to teach you what it means to be a woman of power, how to control a man, how to increase his power.  When I finish with you, every powerful man from here to Rome will fall at your feet and beg for you!”

The intensity in Mother’s voice frightened me, a little, but I knew she wanted what’s best for us.

“It is always good to visit with you, little Salome.  But now I need to go see what the servants are planning for tonight’s banquet.  Without someone to watch over them, they get up to the strangest things!”  Mother gave me a little hug, dropped the veils on my pallet, and rushed out of my chamber.

***

Mother’s lessons started the next morning.  I learned a lot from her, but I don’t think I understood what Mother was trying to teach me.  Everything she taught me was about power, about getting what I want.  She wanted me to always remember what is best for Daddy, because what’s best for Daddy is what’s best for me.  “Even after I’m married?” I asked.  “Even after you’re married,” Mother answered.

Last week, some new prisoners were brought into Daddy’s dungeon.  This happened all the time, when Daddy’s soldiers found Jews shouting in the marketplace about the evils of Rome.  I never used to pay attention to Daddy’s prisoners, but this group was different.  For the first time ever, I heard Daddy shouting at Mother.  There was one man, a man named John, and Daddy didn’t want the man in the dungeon.

“Are you out of your MIND?” shouted Mother.  “Everywhere he goes, John speaks out against you, against US!  He calls on his God to strike us down for our evil.  He tells everyone that your true wife is that Phasaelis –” Mother spat the name out.  ” — and that my true husband is your weakling of a brother!  He is insane, he is dangerous to us, and he is NOT your friend!”

When Daddy replied, his voice was low and cold.  I had never heard him sound so cruel.  “Wife, that is enough.  This is men’s business.  Go take care of our daughter, or help the servants put together our dinner.  Just leave me.”

Mother took her voice down, too, soft and silky.  “Of course you’re right, darling.  I should not have raised my voice to you.  I know how hard you are working to get out of this — Galilee.”  Her voice sounded venomous again.  “I only want what is best for you.”

But Daddy waved his hand at her, so Mother left him.  She found me and took me straightaway to her chamber.  It was filled with silks and jewels and rich gowns.  There I sat on my pallet while Mother’s servant dressed her for the night’s banquet.  Mother kept up a torrent of speech, all about this strange man John.  She spoke bitterly about him, how he used to live in the desert, wearing skins and eating locusts while Jews flocked to him to hear his message.    She told me how he would push people into the Jordan River, demanding them to repent, claiming that the River gave them a new life.  “Psht!  You can’t just pick up a new life!  You are still the same person you always were.  Really, child.  Do you think some muddy river can turn you into a cook or a soldier, instead of the daughter of a king?”  I shook my head, afraid to speak aloud.

She continued, not even noticing me any more.  “The worst of it is, this John, this locust-eating baptizer calls your father and me the greatest sinners in the kingdom!  He demands that we return to our old marriages, that I go back to Herod Boethus –” she spat the name again, and I was a little afraid at how she resembled a serpent.   ” — and your father bring back that cow Phasaelis!  And then John wants us to apologize to his God, to let him push us into the river.  I can’t believe your father has let him live this long!”

I continued to nod my head yes or shake my head no, as Mother’s tirade wore on.  Finally, it was time for the banquet to begin.  “Ah, my sweet Salome,” Mother said, as her speech wound down.  She kissed me on the forehead.  “Daughter, tonight’s banquet is just for grown-ups, so you will dine in your chamber.  But tomorrow is your Daddy’s birthday, so you will need to prepare a special gift for him!  Good night, little one.”  When a pat on my head, she rushed out the door, her gown and silk veils whispering behind her.

“Come on, little miss,” said the servant who had dressed Mother, while Mother had ignored her presence completely.  “Let me take you to your chamber.”  She held out her hand to me, so I took it and we walked in silence.  The quiet of the palace was welcome after Mother’s shouting and screeching.    As we reached my chamber, I saw that a tray of food already sat next to my pallet.  I walked in, and I heard the servant woman murmur to herself as she left me.  “That woman is so full of poison.  It will be the death of us all.”

***

The tray of the night’s dinner had been taken away while I slept.  The morning sun slanted through the window as I sat up and stretched. Then I remembered what Mother had said the night before.  Tomorrow is your Daddy’s birthday, so you will need to prepare a special gift for him!  I did not know what gift I could give my father.  He was the one who gave gifts to me.  I was not allowed to go to the marketplace, where strange men might lay eyes on me, or worse, try to touch me.  What gift could I find within the palace?

I dressed myself quickly, simply, and slipped out into the inner garden to think.  I did not want another lesson from Mother today; I didn’t want to speak to anyone.  I had to figure out this gift.  What did I have, to offer my Daddy?  He would not want gowns or silks or little girls’ jewels.  He was a man, and his captains and nobles and friends would all be at his birthday banquet tonight.  I had to think of a gift that would make a man proud and happy, that would not weaken him in front of his friends.

I walked through the gardens, not really paying attention to where I was or where I was going, until I walked right into a servant.  I looked down in shock as she scuttled back from me, trying to bow her head to me.  “I’m sorry, Miss Salome.  I did not mean –  I was just — ”

“It is okay,” I said, and I offered my hand to the servant, to help her stand.

“Oh no, Miss!” she exclaimed, and she quickly gathered her baskets.  I could see that she had been gathering vegetables and herbs for tonight’s banquet.

“I am the one in your way,” I said.  “Let me leave you to your work.”  I turned around and fled — not running, as Mother had taught me — but walking very swiftly, back to my chamber.

There, Mother was sitting on my pallet, her features dark with anger.  “I have been waiting for you, Salome.  Where have you been?”

“Forgive me, Mother,” I said, inclining my head to her.  “I needed a walk.  I was in the garden.  I needed to…”

My words ran down, as Mother glared at me.  “The garden?  Where the kitchen servants work?”  I nodded.  “Have you learned nothing yet, girl?  You are the daughter of a king!  You cannot mix with servants!”  I lowered my eyes and stared at my feet.  “Well, enough of that.  We must prepare you for tonight’s banquet!”

I looked back up at Mother, and she smiled at me.  “I have decided what your gift will be for your Daddy.  You will dance for him.”  I didn’t know what to say to this.  Dance?  In front of all of his captains and nobles and friends?  So that they would see me?  I shivered.  “Silly girl, you will dance beautifully.  And maybe your dance will bring a strong husband to you!  Let’s get started.”

Mother clapped her hands for a servant, and ordered her to move my pallet.  And then, for hours, we worked on my dance.  My arms and legs were long and strong, and I moved gracefully.  Mother tried to teach me new ways to move, sequences that would display my budding breasts or rock my hips.  It all felt so silly, and a little embarrassing, but Mother insisted.  Finally she declared her satisfaction.  “Enough!”  Clapping her hands again, Mother ordered the servants to bathe me and dress me in a fine new gown.  “You will dance wonderfully, my daughter.  And tonight, your Daddy will deny you nothing you ask for!”

***

The time of the banquet arrived, and the servants ushered me into the banquet hall.  I found my place at the women’s table, though the rich smells of fish and lamb and wine turned my stomach to stone.  I managed to swallow a bit of bread, but could eat no more.

My gown was so pretty.  Long silk scarves trailed from the full, wide sleeves, and the full skirt was covered with glittering glass beads.  The deep green complemented my dark eyes, and for the first time, I really felt like the daughter of the king.  Mother entered the banquet hall just before Daddy, and she wore a gown even lovelier than mine.  When Daddy entered, he thanked his guests for joining him on his birthday, and then he clapped his hands.  In the far corner, four musicians began to play their instruments.  I was surprised — I had not even noticed them there!

As Daddy took his dinner, his nobles and friends stood up to give him speeches, to present rich gifts to him.  Finally, Daddy sat back in his chair, rubbing his belly, and declared himself satisfied… almost.

“Where is my daughter?  Where is Salome?”  Heads turned toward me, and I blushed at the attention.  “Come, Salome!” Daddy said.  “Your mother tells me you have a special gift for me.”

Shyly, I rose from my place and made my way across the floor, until I stood in front of my father.  My arms and legs felt heavy, and the walk seemed to take ages.  I realized that I was trembling.

“Will you dance for me, Salome?” my father asked.

I bowed my head and began to dance.

As I began my dance, I felt the eyes of all the men on me, watching my body move.  My first movements were slow, halting, jerky.  Soon enough, though, my awareness of the other men faded, as if only I and my father were present, and my dance gained energy and strength.  I stretched and leaped.  I used the new motions Mother had taught me, rocking my hips and displaying my tiny budding breasts.  When I finished, I was breathing rapidly and my face felt flushed.  I bowed my head to my father and stood still.

The men cheered, until Daddy stood.  “This is the most wonderful gift you could have given me, daughter!”  He stepped down and took my hands.  I lifted my gaze to his face.  Daddy slipped a ring onto my finger.  “This ring is a token of my promise.  Tonight, Salome, you have pleased me more than any other.  I promise you any gift you ask for, even if you want half of my kingdom!”  He bowed his head to me, and I blushed as the men cheered again.

Father returned to his place at the high table, and he drew me along with him.  A servant placed another chair behind Mother, an honored place for me.  As Daddy sat, Mother whispered in my ear.  “Well done, Salome!  Now here is what you must do.  You must ask him for the head of John the Baptizer.”

I looked at her in horror.  “What?”

“You heard me, daughter,” she whispered.  He has promised you any gift you ask for, and you must ask for John’s head.”

When there was next a lull in the conversation, I stood up.  Daddy noticed immediately.  “You have chosen your gift, my dearest daughter?”

I cleared my throat.  “I have, Father.”

“What can I give you, little one?  A new gown?  Rich jewels to match your eyes?  Whatever you ask, I will give it.”

“I want –” I gulped, and then spilled the words out in a rush.  “I want the head of John the Baptizer!”

The crowd gasped.  Daddy’s face paled.  “My daughter, do you know what you ask?  He is a holy man, a good man.  He is marked by his God.  The Galileans will be quiet upset with me, and we can ill afford that with King Aretas readying to march on us.”

I nodded, and Mother poked me sharply with her fingers, right in the small of my back.   “Yes, Father.  I know.  This is the gift I want.”

Murmurs rushed through the crowd.  “Please, my daughter, ask me anything but this gift.  Ask me for your own servants, for your own palace, and I will gladly give it to you.”

Mother prodded me again, and I shook my head.  My voice quavered as I said, “No, Father.  This is the only gift I want.  John’s… head.”  I sat back down quickly.

Daddy sighed, then motioned for one of his guards.  “You have heard my daughter’s wish.  Bring me the head of John the Baptizer.”  The guard bowed and rushed from the room.

The room remained hushed, as Daddy’s guests did not know what to say or do.  I pushed my chair back, trying to get up, but Daddy glared at me.  “Oh no, daughter.  You have asked for this gift, and now you will stay until it is given into your hands.”  Then he sat, hard, in his chair and waved for a servant to refill his wine.

Talk returned to the banquet hall, but I sat silently, wringing my hands in my gown.  Mother tried to stop me, hissing to me that I would ruin this fine dress, but I could not stop.

Finally, the doors to the banquet hall opened with a crash. All conversation in the hall stopped, and the men turned as one to face the doors.  There stood the guard Daddy had sent.  He held a great silver platter before him, and I saw that his hands and face and uniform were stained with blood.  At first, I did not understand, but as he approached the high table, I saw.

I saw.  I saw the head.  The eyes stared at me, the empty eyes with only death behind them.  The hair stood up, where the guards had held his head for the sword.  The mouth was open, and there was blood everywhere.

I screamed.

At a nod from Daddy, the guard placed the platter on the high table, right in front of Mother and me.

I held my hand to my mouth, but it was not enough.  I could smell the blood, smell the man this head had belonged to, smell the sweat and dirt and death.  I turned around quickly and fell to my knees, being noisily sick in the corner.  I threw up until nothing was left in my stomach, and then it kept heaving and heaving, though not even bile would come up.

“Behold your gift!” shouted my father.  “Behold!  A good and holy man, killed, for the dance of a girl.”  He rushed from the room, his robes sweeping behind him.

“Husband!” my mother cried after him.  “Our guests!”  Daddy only waved his hand behind him as he strode out.

The men stood at their tables, looking at each other.

“Noble and honored guests,” Mother spoke.  “We thank you for sharing this banquet with us.  Your gifts are most generous, and you will all be remembered.  Good night.”  With that, she strode out of the room behind Father, and I could see that her eyes were on fire.

Nobody noticed me, heaving in the corner, until a servant took my elbow.  “Here you go, Miss.  Let’s get you back to your room.”  She wiped my mouth with her dress, and she guided me through corridors.  I could see nothing but the eyes, the dead eyes of John the Baptizer.

***

Mother gave me no further lessons after this.  She looked at me with scorn and pity, calling me weak and unsuited for power.  Daddy gave me no more gifts, no more jewels or gowns.  I was still the king’s daughter, but was mostly ignored.  Finally, Mother came to my chamber to tell me that a husband had been found for me.

“You are 14 years old now, so it is high time you were married and out of your father’s house,” she told me.  “We have found you a quiet merchant.”  She spat the word, and I knew from the look of disappointment on her face that marrying me to a merchant was far from Mother’s dreams of increased glory and power.  “You will be married next week, and you will leave the palace immediately after that.”

After Mother left my chamber, I sighed with relief.  Although I did not relish the thought of a husband, seeing no happiness between Mother and Daddy, I was glad to leave this place.  I was glad to leave behind the banquet hall, the place where I first saw death.  I was glad to leave behind lessons in singing and dancing, now that I knew that these led only to death.  I was glad to go to a place where I could learn real things, like sewing simple clothes or cooking my own dinner.  I was glad to go to a place where I could just be me, just little Salome.  Never again would I be only the girl who danced for the head of a good and holy man.  Never again would I be only the girl who demanded the head of John the Baptizer on a platter.