As she stood , silent , her wandering gaze landed on her Mother . Mother crooked
her finger , reeling her in like a fish on the line . Salome went to her mother and bent
over so she could make out Mother ’ s whisper .
‘ Ask the king for the head of John the Baptist ,’ her mother hissed .
Salome recoiled . She knew of John the Baptist , one of the religious radicals
causing such upheaval in Galilee . She knew he had been languishing in prison for
insulting Salome ’ s mother , the queen , saying her marriage was invalid . She also knew he
stood high in the esteem of her stepfather , that he was said to be a man of wisdom and
principle , that the poor folk loved his kindness and inspiring words . John the Baptist
had never done Salome any harm – why ask for something so grisly ?
Her disgust must have shown on her face , for her mother gripped her arm tight
to hold her in place and spoke again .
‘ Salome , my dear , do this for me ,’ she murmured . ‘ John is a rabble-rouser , a
heretic . He insulted me gravely , and your stepfather insulted me further by refusing to
execute him . Restore my honour and ask for his head on a plate . The world will not lose
much by his death , and we will gain much .’
Salome wavered , but her mother ’ s eyes , her voice , her grasp compelled her .