To the Death (11 page)

Stripping off his helmet and gloves he extended a hand to Berenice who dutifully curtsied. “You do well sister to attend our defences, for I have marched through a land on fire these past weeks. But,” he continued raising her to her feet and kissing her on both cheeks, “why do you feel so uneasy in the heart of the Holy City?” He waved a hand at the heavily fortified walls. “Are you not protected by Rome? Surely all is lawful and secure here?”

Berenice smiled at the brother she loved above all men.

“Now that you are here I am doubly safe. We have much to tell each other, but first refreshment. Nathan will see to your men”.

They walked into the castle's sumptuous apartments hand in hand. “I have missed you brother”. Her fingers tightened on his.

Agrippa smiled “And I you, sister, we have much to discuss”.

While the King bathed, Berenice gave orders for his favourite foods to be prepared. Then attending to her own toilette she thought about the brother she loved and had loved since they were children. From a very early age she had stolen into his bed. With the passage of time innocent embraces had become more passionate.

They expanded their sexual knowledge and over the years added to it by experiment. At sixteen she had been married to Marcus son of Alexander, head magistrate of the Jews in Alexandria. On his early death she was married to her father's brother Herod of Chalcis, who died within a year. She then sought the protection of her brother with whom she lived before marrying her third husband Polemon, King of Cilicia, but she deserted him after six unhappy months and returned to Agrippa who had never married.

They came together like a pair of otters. Tumbling and rolling across the immense bed. Agrippa was tall and slim, hard bodied. He was a professional soldier. Olive skinned with tightly curled black hair, he was clean shaven in the Roman fashion - a practice that scandalised the Jews.

Entwined in total harmony, seeking each other hungrily, Berenice rubbed herself against him, teasing him with her body, agile as a feral cat. Agrippa parted the opening of her sex with his fingers and lowered his head. With lips and teeth he fluttered kisses across her breasts and belly, rasping his tongue across her clitoris, feeling her quiver with pleasure.

Berenice was on fire, her breath was becoming ragged. Their lips met as though they needed to feast on each other. She offered herself to him, opening her sex with slender jewelled fingers. With eyes closed in ecstasy she felt him sheath himself to the hilt. The familiar musk of his body found her nostrils. She sighed with pleasure.

Agrippa's face congested with passion. He buried his head against her shoulder. She could hear his muffled panting like a stallion blowing dust with its nostrils. The power of his thrusts increased. He lifted her almost bodily from the bed. She shivered under the delicious impact of his driving hips. Ripples of pleasure ran over her skin, like water skirling across stone.

She gripped the hard brown body firmly between her legs and cried out, ululating at the delicious sensation that started in her belly and ran down her legs. Swept away on a rising tide of passion, she seized his head, fingers hooking in the coarse black curls. Agrippa's eyes were unfocused, blurred by the violence of his own emotions. Berenice cried out as he lifted her buttocks to penetrate deeper, touching the very bottom of her womb. As she began to slide out of control, he felt the muscles in her legs start to tremble. With her heels drumming against his buttocks he thrust hard against her urgency. As she came she felt him stiffen. Her eyelids fluttered. She cried out, half sob, half scream of pleasure.

As she regained her senses, she felt Agrippa place a kiss in the crook of her neck. Tenderly and without passion he stroked her hair. Berenice floated, eyes closed – drifting, weightless -her breathing slowing, steadying. She burrowed against him “I missed you Lord. Without you my life is incomplete”.

“And I you my love, but it would have been dangerous to take you to Rome. The Romans, surprisingly, can be prudish at times, yet they are the most depraved of people”.

She nibbled his ear. “During the last few weeks Jerusalem hasn't been particularly safe. The procurator has been killing Jews by the thousand”.

At this news Agrippa struggled to sit up. Berenice rolled onto her back, her hazel eyes half closed with the languor of their love making. Agrippa's hands cupped her breasts, rolling her nipples under his thumbs, saying “The whole country is in ferment, the nationalists are everywhere stirring up trouble. The Romans are bottled up in their garrison towns. Neither the
Legate
nor the procurator will have an easy time of it crossing the country”.

“But”, asked Berenice who was beginning to feel a stirring in her loins under the absent minded fondling of her breasts, “they will be safe once they re-join their main forces?”

Agrippa rolled her unresistingly on to her face. Grasping the cheeks of her firmly rounded buttocks, he squeezed hard. She wriggled among the cushions to get comfortable. Agrippa bit both cheeks gently, before kissing where he had bitten.

“Mutiny is contagious; it has already infected Caesarea. When Gallus gets back there, he won't find a single Jew left in the city. The Greeks have carried out a systematic slaughter of its entire Jewish population. Under the pretext of ethnic cleansing, twenty thousand Jews were murdered within the space of a single day”.

Berenice rolled her head to one side to reply. As she did so he pushed a cushion under her hips to lift her enticing rump. “That's on the Syrian border. The
Legate
will surely punish the Greeks”.

“He will side with the Greeks. It's the Jews who are causing him problems, and dead Jews are peaceful Jews. In reprisal, the Jewish nationalists have sacked Syrian villages and attacked the neighbouring cities of Philadelphia, Heshbon, Gerasa, Pella and Scythopolis. The whole of Syria is filled with fear and confusion. If,” he quickly corrected himself “
when
the
Legate
gets back to his main forces, he might survive”.

A probing hand slipped between her thighs, bringing Berenice's interest in the
Legate's
problems to a halt. She gave herself up to the deliciously exploring fingers. Berenice smiled contentedly, settling into the yielding cushions of the bed. Sliding his hands under her body Agrippa stretched himself over her back, slipping himself inside her. She moved her buttocks in time to the rhythmic thrusting. When Berenice suddenly convulsed under him, Agrippa pulled her into a kneeling position, driving into her savagely. She screamed, arching backwards, shaking like a hooked fish. With his arms wrapped round her body Agrippa ran a hand down her belly before plunging his fingers into the wet matt furred between her legs, caressing her where his shaft entered her body. She rose in his embrace slippery with sweat. She could feel his teeth at the nape of her neck; she could feel his hands smoothing the inside of her thighs running with juices. Her orgasm flung her head back. She let out a howl of sheer animal pleasure. He held her close, still hard inside her. As she trembled back from the brink, he slid out of her and turned her on her back, hooking her legs over his shoulders and spreading to receive him. The glove of her soft flesh, holding him fast, began to pulse rhythmically.

She crossed her ankles round his neck, her breath rasping. Blindly she reached for him, moaning his name. He matched the rhythm of their bodies. Suddenly she clenched her fists and beat against his chest. He seized her round the waist, back bowed, carried away on a tide of his own. The blood beat in his temples, he could smell her, warm and musky. He groaned with pleasure, his head beginning to swim. Berenice's head thrashed from side to side. Agrippa could feel his sister's orgasm shaking her body. Fingers dug into his back, her eyes rolled back into her head, she keened deep in her throat – a wild, savage sound. He felt the scouring shock of his own release as they fell together, their sweat soaked bodies sliding against each other. Exhausted, they slept in a tumble of arms and legs, entwined as they used to be as children.

It was raining when Amal arrived at the main gate. As she separated herself from the crowds scurrying to find shelter, her approach to the main gate was noted by the guards posted along the walls.

“Visitor main gate”. The shouted warning brought a senior officer to the battlements. The officer on duty in the gatehouse tower gave orders to the bowmen in the turrets each side of the gate, to notch their arrows.

If anything more than the lych gate needed to be opened, heavy infantry and more archers would be summoned to fortified positions within the courtyard. The main gates could only be opened in Nathan's presence and even then only on his personal command. Standing orders decreed any other attempt to open them was to be regarded as treachery, the perpetrators to be cut down without any questioning.

The officer guard opened the spy hole on the lych gate. He said nothing, simply staring stonily at the hooded figure.

“I am Amal. Queen Berenice will see me”. Amal did her best to keep her voice steady, but her legs were trembling, as much with excitement as fear.

The soldier slammed the spy hole closed and signalled for the small door to be opened for the few seconds it took for Amal to slip inside. By which time Nathan's second-in-command had arrived in the courtyard. He nodded to the duty officer and said to Amal “Come with me”. She was led to an anteroom, where a woman and Nathan stood waiting to receive her.

Nathan addressed her in a neutral voice. “I am the commander of the Queen's personal guard. This is Drucilla, the Queen's maid. She will provide you with a change of clothing and some refreshments. In the meantime I will tell the Queen you are here”.

Amal smiled. “Thank you sir but my clothes are fine. The shower was a light one”.

Nathan smiled bleakly. “Drucilla will assist you to change your clothes. Those are her orders”.

Amal reddened slightly. She was to be searched for weapons, poison, anything that could be construed as a threat. “Of course commander, I understand - I wasn't thinking. Forgive me”.

Nathan inclined his head and left the room. He was uncertain of this women's status. She was a slave and therefore not entitled to any courtesy, yet she was to have immediate access to the Queen.

He relayed Amal's arrival to a slave of the bed chamber. This was in spite of her being with the King. Berenice's instructions had been explicit. She was to be told of Amal's arrival immediately.

Kneeling outside the door, the slave scratched at a panel. For a moment or two there was no answer, then Berenice appeared. “My lady the Lord Nathan sends his apologies for disturbing you, but a woman who calls herself Amal is in the palace”.

“Thank the commander and tell Drucilla to provide Amal with whatever she needs. I will be with her directly”.

“What is it, my love?” Agrippa had woken up.

“Amal has sought sanctuary my brother. It's started”.

Agrippa was out of bed reaching for his gown almost before Berenice had finished speaking. “Have her brought to my chamber immediately”.

Berenice recalled the slave, “Inform Amal the King will see her”. Nathan personally escorted a startled Amal to the royal suite where she prostrated herself before Agrippa, who indicated she should rise and invited her to sit.

“You have done us a great service. My sister and I are in your debt”. Agrippa smiled as he spoke, attempting to put Amal at ease.

She dipped her head. God she is beautiful thought Agrippa, his face inscrutable, but his sister had sensed the interest and smiled inwardly.

Berenice asked the critical question “What has happened that caused you to leave Eleazar's house?”

“Menahem, son of Judas, a Galilean is leader of the Sicarii. He has reached an agreement with Eleazar”.

Agrippa leaned forward in his chair unable to contain himself. “What agreement?”

“Menahem has taken Masada”.

“But”, interrupted Agrippa with a harsh laugh, “that's impossible. Masada is impregnable”.

“Not if you have men on the inside”.

“You mean Menahem infiltrated men into the fortress to mingle with the soldiers garrisoned there?”

“Not the soldiers, but the slaves and workers who provide the fortress' day to day services, those who do the fetching and carrying, the cooking and cleaning. Many of them are Sicarii. Masada has fallen”. Agrippa stifled a groan.

“The plan”, Amal continued, “is to hold the fortress as a rallying point for the rest of the nationalist movement”.

Agrippa was silenced. He stared unseeing at the women before him, his mind in turmoil.

“You said he had an agreement with Eleazar”, Berenice interjected softly.

“Eleazar has persuaded the priests of the Temple to accept no gift, sacrifice or offering from foreigners”.

Agrippa leapt to his feet. “What? Is the man mad? Such an action is tantamount to declaring war on Rome”.

“They have abolished the sacrifices offered for Rome and Caesar himself ”, she continued relentlessly.

“But”, spluttered Agrippa, “what of the high priests? What of the Ananus, High Priest of all Israel? Damn it, surely he isn't in on this madness?”