To the Death (10 page)

Berenice mulled this over. “You can never prove such a tie, but your guile in coming to me betrays a certain Herodian quality. How do you know I won't betray you to Eleazar?”

“If it was in your interest to do so you wouldn't hesitate” replied Amal, “but for the moment you will wait to see what happens and then decide what to do about me. In the meantime stay in your palace – keep your guards on their toes and send a message to King Agrippa”.

Berenice acknowledged this whispered advice with a barely perceptible nod. She knew what risks Amal had taken in confiding in her. She also knew that, if accurate, the information she had been given could save her life and probably her brother's as well.

“It may become dangerous for you to stay in Eleazar's house. Come to the palace. I will give instructions that you are to be admitted at any time, day or night without question. If what you have told me turns out to be the truth, we will all be struggling to survive. However I guarantee you my protection and that of my brother the King”.

“Thank you my Lady”, and Amal was gone, lost in the crowds. One thing Berenice had been right about was the power of Herodian blood. Amal had taken her first step towards freedom. As yet she had no plan as to how she could achieve power - only a burning, ruthless ambition that her father would have admired.

8

M
enahem
Ben Jair, grandson of Judas of Galilee the founder of the Zealot party, nursed the double ambition of ruling Judaea and getting rid of the Romans. The former would have to come first. Attempting either meant putting his life on the line. The Jewish priesthood would not hesitate to eliminate any challenge to their authority - a view the civil authority and the wealthy ruling classes had in common with the occupying Romans.

A consummate politician and a natural leader, Menahem hated the Romans and despised any Jew who co-operated with them. He and his followers had a simple policy. Assassinate any Roman whenever the opportunity presented itself. To carry out these killings, he added a separate wing to the Zealot party - a ruthless group of killers, Sicarii, who carried out the murders Menahem ordered.

The son of a merchant, Menahem's world was that of the caravan; a world of hardship and danger, of journeying through hostile landscapes. He and his kind were handy with a sword and expert with a knife. Trading as far as India and China, away from home for two years and more, they were subject to attack from bandits. Necessity taught them proficiency in close quarter fighting and skill in the use of a variety of weapons.

At twenty six, Menahem had been accompanying his father on such journeys from the age of ten. Slight of build, he had a sinewy strength and desert bred hardiness. Respected for his business acumen, men acknowledged him as a proud, fiercely independent man, who hated the Romans. To the few that knew him well he was a religious fanatic. A fundamentalist who believed he was an instrument of God, charged with the task
of cleansing the Holy land of Israel, of those who were an offence to his God -
pagans who worshipped idols and the gods of earth, fire, and water, who practiced magic and sorcery. Be they Roman, Jew or Arab, they had to die. Years ago he had planned his strategy. He knew that Jewish discontent with the brutally oppressive Roman regime would eventually erupt into rebellion. When it did he would need to be ready - but to do what?

For months he had wrestled with the problem and had got nowhere. In the end he did what his ancestors had done in similar circumstances. He had gone into the desert to fast and pray. There he found the answer; the Roman stronghold of Masada, the symbol of Roman invincibility, the impregnable, totally unassailable, self-sufficient fortress built by Herod the Great. In a flash of inspiration, which he believed to be divine revelation from his God, Menahem knew what he had to do and how. He had to take Masada and arm the Zealots with the arsenal of weapons stored there. When Herod built Masada he had stocked it with enough weapons to equip an army of ten thousand men – insurance against the unforeseen.

When he returned to Jerusalem, he selected twelve of his most loyal followers. Sworn to secrecy, they were given their orders. Over a period of months, posing as cooks and butchers, they were to infiltrate Masada's civilian staff. Sewn into the seams of their clothes were the deadly crystals of poison they planned to use. Inside the fortress they waited for Menahem's orders.

These would come with one of the traders who delivered fresh supplies and news of the outside world. After months of waiting, convinced that God had spoken to him, he called his army of secret supporters to a rendezvous outside Jerusalem.

They came on horse and camel to bivouac in the desert away from prying eyes, their black tents set in a protective laager. Amid the whirl and rasp of summer insects, smoke from their camp fires hung like incense in the evening stillness. Menahem greeted the men individually before leading them in prayer. A sacred droning filling the air, as the evening sky darkened into night.

In the circles of campfire light, Menahem told them his secret. How six months earlier he had infiltrated the Roman garrison at Masada with revolutionary brothers, who, when they received a signal, would open the gates of their enemy.

“The time has come, the time is now. We attack in two days' time”. Menahem's announcement caught the gathering by surprise.

The staggering importance of what he had said was so improbable, so impossible, that nobody spoke. The only sound the whispering of a shimmering veil of dust, fluted by the wind through the scattered boulders, suddenly drowned by a throaty roar and the rasp of steel as weapons were snatched from their scabbards. Startled by the noise of the wildly cheering men, horses and camels added their own guttural sounds.

By dawn Menahem and his eight hundred fellow rebels were ready to move. As they rode into the desert to take Masada, the spark of revolution burst into flame. Eleazar as Temple Governor, abolished the daily sacrifices offered for Rome and Caesar himself. Eleazar, Priest, nationalist, zealot, had made his move. He had declared war on Rome. Before the high priesthood and city fathers had time to respond, the Zealots had seized control of the Upper City and the Temple.

Horrified at the rebels' actions, Ananus the High Priest of all Israel, the Chief Priests, Pharisees and Sadducees, and the city's leading citizens and many of the ordinary people, came to plead with the rebels. There followed a day of quarrelling that ended in violence. Stones and other missiles were launched by both sides. Eventually, this long range skirmishing degenerated into a more deadly confrontation. Seizing whatever weapons came to hand - axes, hammers, knives - the two sides fought hand to hand screaming, hacking, tearing and punching indiscriminately.

Horrified at what was happening, the most influential citizens sent messengers to Florus and King Agrippa, begging both to come to the city and put down the revolutionaries before matters got completely out of hand. Florus was delighted with the news, and did nothing. The chaos of civil war would provide perfect cover for him to plunder the country.

King Agrippa had
civil
power in Jerusalem, for he had been given the right by the Romans to appoint the High Priest of Israel. Filled with misgivings, he responded to the appeal for help, despatching two thousand horse archers from Arantas under Darius his cavalry commander, along with Philip the son of Jacimus his senior general.

What followed was seven days of mutual slaughter, the rebels showing reckless courage against the King's horsemen who fought to get possession of the Temple and drive out those who were polluting it.

As Eleazar battled to hold what he had taken and advance on the Upper City, he wondered if the time was right to kill Menahem; a thought that hardened into certainty when, during a lull in the fighting, one of his lieutenants brought him news of the impossible. Masada had fallen. Menahem would be hailed as a national hero when he returned to Jerusalem, bringing with him the weapons and armour looted from the fortress. That would make him more than a threat - he would be a rival. A rival for the ultimate prize. Control of Jerusalem and eventually Judaea.

His assassination had just become a priority.

9

B
erenice
was in one of the Palace's many gardens when the commander of her personal guard, Nathan - an Idumaean who had been in her brother's service since boyhood - arrived to discuss the murder of the Jews, who had formed a welcoming committee for the reinforcements arriving from Caesarea. Nathan also brought confirmation of the taking of Masada. The murder of its garrison was tantamount to a declaration of war. Roman forces in the region (which meant Cestius Gallus, Governor of Syria) had to enforce Roman authority.

A heavily laden bee hummed an erratic path in front of her face. Absentmindedly she waved it away. Nathan stood silently, giving her time to take in the report he had just delivered.

He felt the warmth of the sun on his armour. The garden was walled and trapped the sun's warmth. He could smell the perfume of a magnolia, its sweet odour mingling with the lighter scent of the carefully tended beds of flowers and shrubs. Shade was provided by the many palms that had been carefully grouped by the garden's Arab designer who, true to his traditions, had incorporated several fountains and softly murmuring streams that filled the garden with the delicate sound of water burbling over stone, splashing gently, its sprays dazzling in the sun. A haven of peace and quiet designed to sooth the spirit and calm the mind.

Berenice sat in an arbour with several of her personal slaves, its latticed shade protection from the sun. Her grim faced commander waited patiently for his orders.

“Rome will exact a reckoning for this day's work that will echo around the world”. She spoke as much to herself as the Idumaean, who stood helmet in hand.

“Lady you must look to your own safety. The procurator has already left the city for Caesarea. The
Legate
is making arrangements to return to Syria. They both fear being separated from their main forces”.

“Nathan we must strengthen the guard immediately. Treachery and assassination served the nationalists well at Masada - it might be tried again”.

The man nodded. “No stranger will be admitted, Lady, for any reason, from this moment on. “And”, he continued, “the guard will be doubled and officers will carry out spot checks day and night”.

Berenice, nodding her approval, said “The
Legate
may call on us before he leaves. He could even demand I accompany him on the pretext that it is for my own safety. I could,” she ended bitterly, “become a hostage”.

Nathan frowned but didn't hesitate. “Refuse him admission”.

“On what grounds?”

“I will say you are ill Lady and have orders to admit no one other than the King”.

“You would refuse entry to the
Legate
? Caesar's representative. You would be risking the charge of treason, punishable by death”.

The swarthy face split with a mirthless grin. “If I let Cestius through these gates the odds are there will be treachery and I will die with a knife in my back. If he is refused entry, and is stupid enough to attack, I may fall in battle but I won't go down alone”.

Berenice smiled and gently touched the man's arm.

“Go Nathan, instruct your men to admit no one”. She paused, suddenly remembering her meeting in the
court of women
. “The exception is the slave Amal. Day or night she
must
be admitted and I am to be told of her arrival. Tell your men to treat her with respect”.

Nathan nodded and assured her that he would relay her orders.

Berenice continued “Be assured that when the King arrives he will be told of your loyalty”.

The Idumaean touched his forehead with his fingertips and took his leave. He detested the Romans as much as he secretly loved his mistress. As for the Jews of the Holy City, he knew only too well the contempt in which they held all his people - since the time Rome had forced the Jews to accept Herod as their King, who had been born a quarter Jewish and three quarters Idumaean, making him more Arab than Jew.

The feeling was mutual, should they or the Romans come against him he would be ready. As he headed for the guard room, he ran an appreciative eye round the palace's forty five foot high wall. Herod might have been a bastard, he thought, but when it came to building things he wasn't just a genius, he was a military genius.

Two hours later his arrangements were complete. Every man under his command knew what was expected of him. One thing Agrippa had taken from the Romans was the concept of military discipline and duty. The men who fought in the King's army were sworn to the codes of that discipline. Nathan, who had risen through the ranks, was in charge of well-trained disciplined troops who would follow him without question.

When Agrippa arrived ten days later he noted with quiet satisfaction, though with some surprise, the alertness of the men manning the palace walls. He also noted the archers positioned on every tower.

When he and his army swung through the main gate into the outer court to be greeted by Berenice, and Nathan commanding a guard of honour, his practiced eye took in the stacks of war materials readily to hand. He also observed that the opening and the closing of the gate had been covered by cavalry and a triple row of heavily armed infantry. He returned the salute of Nathan and his officers asking dryly “Expecting visitors?”