To the Death by Peter R. Hall

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?”
    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.
    â€œNow 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