4

Herod's banquet was a week away. Every day, every hour, I practised my craft, trying to perfect my form. And every day, every hour, I thought of Johanan, rotting away in his cell like a fool, all because he deemed himself too pious for pleasures of the flesh.

I was filled with an intense longing that I could not satiate. Other men's looks, though regular enough, did nothing for me. Hah! I might as well have been staring at myself in a mirror, for how little I cared. I could feel nothing from their lechery; it was useless. I sought weakness in one man, and he refused to offer it to me.

And I had no reprieve, even my nights were filled with visions of him. In my dreams, I went to his cell, freeing him of his bonds, and then led him back to my tent. We laid upon my bed, under the safety of the canopy, and discovered each other.

Once I dreamt that he led me down to the Jordan, his face lit up by a smile, as he dunked me in the river. "You are saved," he told me before he kissed me. I woke up all too soon.

I began to look forward to the nights, where I might finally be with him, and dread the moment I woke from my slumber and came back into the empty reality.

The moment came for the feast. I could smell all the savoury scents of the food that had been prepared as they came wafting through the fabric of the dining tent. My body was dripping with sweat from the sweltering hot day, shining like a precious stone beneath the layers of clothing that I had donned for my dance. But I could scarcely feel things like heat or hunger anymore. My body longed for one thing only.

As I waited, I could sense a shift in the air. A shackled Johanan was being led to the feasting tent, clothed as ever in his sackcloth and with his head down. Even with his pathetic posture, he stood taller than the guards. He would only be there at my request. Assuredly Herod was baffled, but he knew better than to question me, if he wanted to see me dance!

I strode out from my hiding spot, my arms jangling with bangles and fingers clinking with rings. I entered the tent, seeing that Jonanan had been forced down to his knees. He too was slick from heat, his browned body glinting.

"Shalom," I told Jonanan, flashing him my best smile. I could feel the guards gripping him grow weak with their own concupiscence, but Jonathan merely looked at me.

"Shalom," he answered when given a firm nudge with the hilt of Asher's blade.

I clasped my hands together before my stomach. "I hope you enjoy my dance."

"I will not see it." He replied.

"Why-ever not?" I asked, my voice full of concern. "Have you gone blind?"

"I will shutteth my eyes from looking upon evil." He said, but seemed distressed. Even his brows and beard were sweaty.

I smiled up at Asher and Caleb. "Then pry them open."

Then I stroked the side of Johanan's face, and he grimaced as if I were the most wretched of women, rather than the most stunning creature his eyes had ever beheld! I could not conceal my contempt for the situation any longer, and I dug my painted nails into his cheek, whilst slowly tilting his face upwards. "The Song of Songs was written for those like me," I advised him. "So watch."

"I have already perceived all there is to see," he informed me, looking straight into my soul. "I have witnessed miracles from Yahweh. And you expect to affect me by bearing yourself naked?"

"It is truly a most impressive sight," Caleb volunteered.

"No one asked you!" I snapped, releasing Johanan to smack the brazen guard across his face. "You're dismissed," I told him before turning to Asher to speak about their captive. "He's infirm, surely one man can hold him."

Caleb left in a huff, with Asher grabbing Johanan by his shaggy dark hair and yanking his head back so that he was forced to behold me.

"Listen to the lady," Asher advised him, holding his knife to the prophet's throat. Johanan merely stared at me. His usual benign expression, which I had so loved, had disappeared and been replaced instead with a glower. Somehow he was even more attractive as he looked upon me with unbridled hatred. Finally, I had inspired something in him aside from disgust! I could have wept for joy.

"Wish her well," Asher prodded.

"Mazel tov," he murmured.