To the Death by Peter R. Hall Page B

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.
    â€œVisitor 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.
    â€œI 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