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  Varus, scrutinizing them with interest, remarked that Queen Doris’s handwriting after torture was indistinguishable from her handwriting when she was merely oppressed with guilt, and that she used the same cheap quality of paper and the same muddy ink on both occasions—which he considered strange.

  “Why strange, Excellency ?” asked Nicolaus.

  “My good Nicolaus, do you ask ‘why’? Why—because it is the same paper on which all the witnesses have recorded their depositions : typical prison paper, and prison ink too. I make no pretence at being an expert criminologist, but, by the body of Bacchus, I have not been thirty years a magistrate for nothing. I have learned to cultivate elementary common sense. What stationery do queens use? The very best smooth-laid paper, at fifty drachmae a short roll, and they scent it with musk or roses. But this tattered, stained, corrugated stuff, full of lumps and thin patches—it is unthinkable that it ever reposed in the boudoir of a queen as elegant as Doris. If I had not King Herod’s assurance to the contrary, I should suppose that the Queen’s private letter to King Antipater at Rome had been written on the same occasion as the confession, which was admittedly extracted by torture.”

  Nicolaus was taken aback by this answer, and Varus continued : “In the ten depositions made by the Court-ladies of Pheroras, who tell their story in almost identical words, King Antipater is alleged to have informed his mother in their presence that he was going to Rome ‘to get as far away as possible from that wild beast, my father’. This does not square with the statement in the third charge, according to which King Antipater was sent to Rome by his father on urgent business, or with a letter sent to me by King Herod some months ago to the same effect. King Antipater is also credited with accusing his father of ‘cruelty in so wording his Will that my son will never reign after me. He is passed over in favour of my brother, Prince Herod Philip.’ This accusation I cannot credit. King Antipater and Queen Doris both knew the contents of the Will—the Will, I mean, that has now been cancelled—and he could therefore never have said anything of the sort : for the Will, as I was officially informed at the time that it was drafted, made Prince Herod Philip heir to the throne only if King Antipater should be the first to die ; and even in that event, the succession was to revert to Antipater’s children upon Prince Herod Philip’s decease or abdication. But if King Antipater were to survive and succeed his father, Prince Herod Philip’s claim would lapse, and King Antipater, with the Emperor’s consent, might then appoint his son as the sole heir if he pleased. This discrepancy shakes my faith in the evidence as a whole.”

  In the silence that followed, Antipater was emboldened to make his defence, which he did briefly and simply. “Father, His Excellency Quinctilius Varus encourages me to suggest to you that these depositions are not reliable because extracted by torture, every one of them ; and that the letter from my mother to me was also, though of course without your knowledge, extracted from her by torture. I undertake further to prove not only that my mother’s letters to me are invariably written on the best Alexandrian paper but also that they are written in the Edomite dialect and the Hebrew script, not in Greek. My mother talks Greek ungrammatically and cannot write it except with the greatest difficulty. Moreover, as you know yourself, I was ordered to Rome by you, greatly against my inclination : I did not go there of my own free will to avoid you. And I am grateful to you, Father, for your admission that I have been a loyal and dutiful son to you ever since you lifted me out of private life and showed the world what a father’s love can do. But that you can believe me not only a hypocrite, a fratricide and a parricide but demented as well, is hard to bear. I have lived forty years of my life, free from any accusation of crime, and could have had no expectations whatever from your murder except a tortured spirit and eventual damnation. Consider : my yearly income of fifty talents, over and above your gifts to me and the perquisites of my various offices, is far more than I ever spend ; I enjoy the title and power of King ; you have recommended me to the protection of the noblest men in the Empire. What is still more to the point, I have never received an unkind word from you in all my life nor had any occasion to complain of your treatment of me, which has been consistently generous and just. There is no one in the whole world, from your meanest subject to our great benefactor the Emperor Augustus Caesar himself, who can honestly deny the truth of what I say. That I should now turn and savage you, as sometimes a Molossian shepherd dog suddenly turns on his master, could be explained only as a fit of insanity ; yet if I were insane the sickness would surely appear in my other actions as well. Do you perhaps believe that I am possessed of an evil spirit? Then cast it out, I beseech you, in the name of the Holy One of Israel, blessed be he.”

  Herod ground his teeth and tore at his small tufted beard. “I will cast this evil spirit out, but not in the Lord’s name,” he said. “I will cast it out in the Emperor’s name with the rack, the brazier and the thumb-screw.”

  “I am ready to submit to the torture, Father, since it seems that my case is pre-judged.”

  Varus objected : “No, no, King Antipater, you are a Roman citizen and therefore exempt from torture. The Emperor would never approve of torture practised under Roman Law on a high officer of the Imperial forces. Would you care, by the by, to submit an evidence of the affection and confidence which you boasted just now that the Emperor reposes in you ?”

  “Here are two letters—the one from the Emperor himself, the other from his wife the Lady Livia. They are addressed to my father, but are open for all to read.”

  “They may be read later,” said Herod, snatching the letters and stuffing them behind the cushions of his throne. “Nicolaus, proceed with the prosecution !”

  Nicolaus realized that the case was going badly. The sympathy of almost everyone present except Herod himself and his sons Archelaus and Philip, who had designs on the throne, had swung about in Antipater’s favour. The evidence that had at first sight seemed conclusive was now shown to be forged at least in part, and Antipater’s demeanour had been that of an innocent and deeply injured man. Nicolaus therefore drew on rich resources of the forensic art when he rose to attack Antipater : reviling him as a cockatrice, a filthy ibis, a black Psyllian snake, a parricide of a unique kind. He denounced him as the betrayer and murderer of his innocent brothers and alleged him to have been Jochebed’s seducer and the seducer of Jochebed’s sister Naomi, and regularly to have played the part of the demon Azazel in a witches’ frolic of lust and blasphemy, leaping about naked under the full moon in a circle of twelve naked women. “By your own confession, detestable he-goat, you had no motive for your crime of parricide but sheer devilry —the ambition, I suppose, to commit a crime unparalleled in history or legend, to poison the father from whom you yourself admit never to have heard an unkind word or experienced the least injustice, and to involve your mother and your father’s last surviving brother in your own execrable guilt.” Then he turned to Varus and urged him to “destroy this ravening wolf, this hyaena! Are you not aware that a parricide is a universal evil, the existence of which outrages Nature and spreads ill-luck wherever his infected feet may tread, and that the judge who fails to punish such a monster must himself face the frown of Divine Justice ?”

  When he had done with his raving, Varus asked Antipater in a matter-of-fact voice what reply he had to make.

  “Nicolaus has brought against me a random accusation of witchcraft and blasphemy, which he makes no attempt to substantiate, and which he cannot substantiate, and which forms no part of the charges read out at the beginning of the trial. Beyond calling me evil names, he has added nothing new to the case and I am content to refrain from a reply : for I am no fishmonger and disdain to bandy foul language with any man. Instead, I call the God of my fathers to witness that I am entirely innocent of any of the crimes charged against me.”

  Nicolaus then urged Varus to examine the poison remaining in the pottle alleged to have been brought out of Egypt by Antiphilus. He suggested that a condemned criminal sh
ould be instructed to taste it, to prove whether it were deadly or not.

  Varus agreed.

  A Galilean bandit, who had been held in readiness for this demonstration, was led in and offered a free pardon on condition that he swallowed a little of the powder, mixed with honey. He agreed, swallowed, and very soon fell writhing on the floor, clutching his throat and belly and shrieking horribly. He was taken outside to die.

  Varus laughed. “This is no subtle drug,” he said. “This is arsenic, one of the crudest and most violent of all poisons. The symptoms of arsenical poisoning are well known and unmistakable, and Pheroras would never have risked detection by its use unless perhaps he had been the victim of the same unaccountable madness of which Antipater is accused. If this bandit, after swallowing the mixture, had grinned and thanked his God that he had escaped from harm, and had then left the Palace rejoicing, I should have suspended judgement and waited to see whether it were a drug of slow action. But now I cannot believe in the testimony, extracted by torture from Jochebed the wife of Pheroras, that this was the subtle poison allegedly brought by Antiphilus out of Egypt. My experience of Egyptian poisoners has taught me to rate their ingenuity far more highly than this. King Herod, may I have a word with you in private ?”

  The Court was adjourned, and what Varus said to King Herod was not disclosed ; but there at least the proceedings ended and on the next day Varus courteously took his leave and returned to Antioch without delivering judgement.

  A week later Herod reopened the case, on the ground that new evidence had been discovered. His agents, he said, had seized a letter, written by Antiphilus in Egypt, from the slave who was conveying it to Antipater at Jerusalem. It ran as follows :

  “I have sent you Acme’s letter at the risk of my life from two reigning houses. Success to your affairs !”

  Herod instructed his agents that the other letter must be found at all costs, and suggested that they should search the slave. Sewn in the lining of his coat, sure enough, was the letter, supposedly from Acme, who was a Jewess in Livia’s service, and addressed to Antipater :

  “I have written to your father in the exact words you dictated to me, and have followed this up by handing a letter to my Lady Livia, also in your exact words as if sent by your Aunt Salome. This should result in Salome’s well-merited death, for King Herod will naturally believe that she has been plotting against him.”

  Herod then produced still another letter, which he said had just arrived by courier from Rome. It was supposedly the letter written to him by Acme at Antipater’s dictation and ran :

  “As a true daughter of Israel I have been watching your interests here. I have just made an accurate copy of a letter written to my Lady Livia by your sister Salome. As you will see, it accuses you of treason and perjury ; doubtless it was prompted by the old grudge that you had prevented her from marrying that heathen rascal Sylleus. Please destroy this when you have read it, because it is written at the hazard of my life.” An alleged copy of a scurrilous letter signed “Salome” was appended.

  Antipater was hauled out of prison in the middle of the night and confronted with these documents. He denied having had any communication with Acme and suggested that the letters had been forged by Antiphilus.

  “That is for the Emperor to decide,” Herod answered. “I shall send you to Rome to stand your trial there.”

  “Do so, Father. The Emperor is just and not easily imposed upon. He will be able to determine whether the letters signed ‘Acme’ are really written by Acme or are forgeries by some enemy of mine.”

  However, Herod did not venture to send him to Rome. Nicolaus and Archelaus went instead with a digest of the evidence quoted at the first hearing of Antipater’s case, copies of the letters (though not the originals) produced at the second hearing, and an urgent request for permission to execute the parricide at once. Herod armed these envoys with rich gifts for Livia and the Emperor’s legal secretary, and at the same time sent plate to the value of twenty talents to Varus at Antioch.

  Chapter Nine

  The Blood of Zacharias

  ELIZABETH was safely delivered of a sturdy boy. When the women of her household gathered around to admire him and affectionately called him “little Zacharias” she cried out : “Do not praise the child! It is unlucky! And, pray, do not call him little Zacharias. His name is to be John.”

  “Oh,” they cried, “you are surely mistaken, my lady! Your husband would never name him John. It is not a family name. Naturally, he would not give the child the same name as himself : that would breed confusion. But what about ‘Zephaniah’? It is a similar name, yet different, and comes close to Zacharias in the Canon of the Prophets. Or he might perhaps call him Abijah or Samuel, or perhaps Hezron—all these are family names, but John—oh never !”

  “I am naming this child myself, because my husband is dumb, and John is the name that I have chosen. For the rubric of the circumcision service says explicitly : ‘The father shall speak and say the child’s name ; or the father’s nearest kinsman, if he be dead.’ But my husband cannot speak, yet is not dead.”

  They protested : “A woman cannot name her son. It is indecent.”

  “Women, to what tribe are you reckoned ?”

  “To Judah.”

  “And both my lord your master and myself are reckoned to Levi. Search the Scriptures and you will find that our mother Leah named both Judah and Levi without troubling to consult her husband Jacob.”

  On the eighth day, the day after Elizabeth had ceased to be ceremonially unclean, the town rabbi rode up from Beersheba to circumcise the child. He took it from Shelom’s arms and said : “His name is to be Zephaniah, the porter tells me.”

  “No, no,” said Shelom. “John is his name. The lady Elizabeth has made that clear enough.”

  “I will not circumcise him in that name,” the rabbi cried, “without his father’s permission in writing.”

  Zacharias was called from his study, where he was preparing a concordance of Messianic prophecies with a commentary, a work on which he had been engaged for several years. The rabbi handed him a writing-tablet and asked : “What is his name to be ?”

  Elizabeth bustled out from her bedroom and stood between the rabbi and Zacharias. She said indignantly : “Husband, I am naming this child John and my impudent household wish to name him Zephaniah. Tell them that they have no right to interfere with my choice !”

  Zacharias wrote : “His name is John.”

  “John? What is John ?” cried the testy old rabbi. “My lord of Ain-Rimmon, I should be ashamed to address a Son of Aaron by so newfangled a name as John. There were no Johns in Israel until the day before yesterday !”

  Zacharias grew angry. He shouted : “Fool, fool, mule, creature of stubbornness! His name is JOHN, I say !”

  Everyone was astounded to hear Zacharias speak. He was astounded himself. He fell on his face and gave thanks to the Lord for loosening the strings of his tongue.

  The circumcision ceremony was then carried out in the customary manner, and the rabbi prayed : “Our God and God of our fathers! Preserve this child to his father and mother, and let his name be called, in Israel, John the son of Zacharias. Let the father rejoice in him that came forth from his loins and let the mother be glad in the fruit of her womb.” It was not until the rabbi had taken his leave and the screams of the child had been somewhat hushed that Zacharias began to consider with apprehension what the effects would be of his restoration to speech, and heartily wished himself dumb again : he recollected the horror of his vision in the Sanctuary and knew that he must now testify before the High Court. He said sadly to the child : “Alas, little John, I fear that I shall never live to see you walk and talk !”

  Elizabeth protested in astonishment : “Why, husband, have you no better blessing for my child than this, that he will be orphaned within the year ?”

  Zacharias felt the justice of the reproach. He answered : “Give me leave to return to my study, wife, for I have not the art o
f extempore speech, but before nightfall, by the grace of the Lord, I shall have composed the blessing that you ask.”

  Now, when he had been called suddenly from his study to answer the rabbi, two strips of parchment, which were texts from his concordance, had been carried across the table by the draught from the door and lay close to his pen and sand-caster. He picked them up and read them. The first was the well-known passage from the fortieth chapter of Isaiah beginning :

  The voice of one who cries in the desert : “Clear the way for the Lord, build a straight highway for our God through this desert.”

  And the other was the equally well-known passage from the Psalms beginning :

  The Lord has sworn a firm oath to David….

  The verse that caught his eye was :

  There I will cause the horn of David to bud : I have ordained a lamp for my Messiah.

  The accident provided him with what the poets of the Negeb term “a kindling” : as it were a sudden tongue of flame that seizes upon the poetic sacrifice and consumes it. He muttered : “It is said that every man who loves the Lord and his neighbour will find one poem at least written on his heart, if he searches closely. May he give me the skill and patience to transcribe mine !”

  With trembling hands he set to work, writing, cancelling and rewriting until his goose-feather quill grew blunt and blotched the letters. Too busied with his thoughts to trim it, he threw it over his shoulder and seized another. And hardly half an hour had passed before he came running out from his study, parchment in hand, stood over the sleeping child and chanted :

  The God of Israel, blessed be he,

  Who visited his sons in majesty

  And bought them from Egyptian slavery.

  Will he not cause a tender horn to bud

  Above a brow of David’s princel blood

  For the renascence of our nationhood?