Fifth Gospel(90)

The dragons and demons and serpents, fearful of these thoughts, began to writhe and to uncoil and slither away from his soul, repelled into the dark corners of other cells. And so it was that deep in the dungeons of Machareus John the Baptist fell into peace, while not far away, from the Palace of Herod, there came the sound of shouts, of wild revelry and drunken merriment wafting on the dark breezes that passed over the sea of death and into the valley of tribulation.

For it was the anniversary of the death of Herod the Great and at this late midnight hour, Herod had run short of amusements to offer to his satiated guests.

And it was at this very moment that he called on Salome…to dance!





44


THE DANCE




The first time Herodias held the sword she was not taken by it because of the purity of its steel or the ornate craftsmanship of its pommel or the breadth of its tang nor even the trueness of its edge. She was impressed by its history.

Tales spoke how the sword made from a metal fallen from the sky and tempered in the blood of a dragon had been in the hands of Goliath when David slew him. David, having no weapon save a sling had cut off the giant’s head with it and had kept it for his own. Later, fearing its magic he had its hilt altered to depict not the dragon emblem of the Philistines, but his own star – the Star of David, which became the insignia of the Hebrew people. It was passed to his son, Solomon, who put a caveat on the sword so that it could not be used for evil. And that is how it had descended through the generations and came to rest in Herod’s hands. He, in turn, gave it to Herodias as a gift on the eve of their commitment to marry.

Once Herodias was wise to these things, she set her heart to unlocking its occult powers with a mighty ambitious greed. But despite all her concentration on it, its secrets continued to elude her until a vision in the smoke told her that the sword would not work in her hands until Solomon’s bewitchment was reversed, that is, until it shed blood again –not the blood of a Goliath, an evil man of great authority – but the blood of a pure man stripped of all power.

Such a man was John the Baptist!

She had waited a long time, but this night it seemed as if her plans might finally fall into place. After all, Venus was in Leo and she felt it in her bones that the moment was chillingly near.

It was the anniversary of her husband’s accession to the Tetrarchy and his birthday. A great banquet had drawn Herod’s Lords, his military authorities, and all his chiefs in Galilee and Perea to the fortress where they would drink and eat until they were drunk and satiated, bloated and replete.

Herod’s insatiable need to be loved and honoured had driven him to excess: pearls and onyx and gold had been distributed in the food, and in the cups sapphires and emeralds shimmered in the wine. One spectacle after another was performed – fire breathers, male dancers, magicians, and lion tamers. Even so, as the hours passed, the ignoble guests began calling for entertainment of a different kind. Entertainment that they knew only Herod could provide.

Now was time to cull some profit!

Herodias willed her thoughts into Herod’s head, willed them as much as if they were beings flapping their wings at her disposal. Herod, thinking them his own creatures of madness, drank down his wine and leaned his corpulence over the table to lean towards that beauty, which he so sorely wished to empower and to possess. He said to her,

‘I drink, therefore I am! I see your beauty, Salome, therefore I live!’

He raised his cup then, to that lithesome seductress, shaped and moulded and fashioned by Herodias for her own ends with incantations from smoke and air; that creation which she dangled always before Herod’s eyes like a morsel to a starved dog, and which she astutely removed from his jaws when it took her fancy.

Salome gave him a sour eye.

‘Don’t be cold, Salome. Your father needs comfort this night!’

Herodias was fond of the fact that her daughter, too, thought herself a woman of her own mind. It made her smile to see the girl unleashing her seductions as if they were of her own invention. But the stupid girl was dull of mind, for Herodias had not woven intelligence into her birth-spell, and so she had no notion that her dances were only alluring and mesmerising because she danced to Herodias’ tune!

Salome was still staring coldly at her stepfather. Herod had drunk too much seeking to flee from the bat’s wings and he took to fondling her daughter’s hair and saying, ‘My beauty! Console your father, dance one dance to make him merry!’

The room now burst into agreement. Herod’s chiefs and familiars had heard stories of Salome’s dances, which were said to induce even eunuchs to torments of passion and their eyes were full with those images that were called forth by wine and lust.