Beloved

by Bertrice Small

  "In idleness, Zenobia. The very idleness you so abhor. I spent most of my time beautifying myself, although for what or whom I do not know. I spent an hour with my sons, but alas, they are at an appalling age and speak only of weapons and horses."

  "Are you happy, Deliciae?"

  "No, but then what is there for me? I am Odenathus's concubine, although he has not used me as such in five years. I am the mother of sons who no longer need me. I have not the mind of weighty matters, as do you. I am as nothing."

  "What do you want then?" Zenobia asked.

  "If I tell you will you keep it a secret? I cannot have what I desire, but I can dream."

  "I will keep it secret."

  "I want a husband, Zenobia. Being a wife and a mother is what I am best suited for in this life. I know it is not possible, but still I dream."

  "Why is it not possible? You have been beloved of a king, and should that king decide to reward your devotion by giving you to some worthy man as a wife, who is to tell him nay? If you wish it I will speak to Odenathus myself when he returns. You are still young enough to have more children."

  "You would do that for me?" Deliciae's hopeful face brought Zenobia close to tears.

  What a fool I have been! she thought. I have been so wrapped up in my own happiness that I did not see how miserable poor Deliciae has been. I shall never be a worthy queen if I can only speak of the people's needs, but do not see to them. "I will speak to the king, Deliciae, but once I have then you must be honest with him. I do not believe that you ever loved each other, but you have been friends. When I have paved the way for you, speak openly to Odenathus of your feelings."

  "I am not sure I can, Zenobia."

  "You must, Deliciae. In the end only you can gain your own happiness."

  "What will happen to my sons if I leave the palace?"

  "I do not know, Deliciae. However, I believe it would be best if they went with you rather than remain at the palace. They are as yet young, and need their mother." While they live here in the palace, thought Zenobia, Deliciae's sons are made to feel like royal princes, which they most certainly are not, and they also are old enough to be troublesome should anything happen to Odenathus. Indeed, for everyone's sake, Linos and Vermis would be better off elsewhere. She focused upon Deliciae again. "I will see that you are not separated from your sons, Deliciae. I could not bear it if I were separated from mine, and I understand a mother's feelings."

  Deliciae fell to her knees and kissed the hem of Zenobia's gown. Her blue eyes were wet with tears. "Thank you, Majesty! Thank you!"

  "Do not thank me yet, Deliciae. We have yet to speak to the king."

  "He will listen to you," Deliciae said. "I know he will!"

  "Come now," Zenobia said. "Join me for the evening meal. I must retire early, for tomorrow my friend, Julia Tullio, is to be married, and I have been invited for the augurs at dawn."

  ***

  The next morning Zenobia wore a queenly flame-colored stola cinched with a wide gold belt inlaid with rubies and pearls. About her throat was a magnificent necklace of hundreds of small pearls and rubies that dangled from cobweb thin gold wires and glittered upon the pale-gold skin of her chest. Great barbaric ruby ovals hung from her ears. On her upper right arm was a golden snake with ruby eyes, and beneath it were a carved gold bangle and a smooth bangle of pink coral. On her left arm were three gold-wire bracelets, two studded with freshwater pearls flanking one encrusted with small rubies. Her slender fingers were dressed with but three rings, her wedding band, a great pink pearl, and a square-cut pink sapphire.

  Zenobia's heavy black hair was parted in the center, and wound into a thick coil at the base of her neck. An exquisitely wrought diadem of filigreed gold vines and pink-sapphire flowers was set upon her head. On her feet she wore gilt leather sandals. Looking at herself in the polished-silver mirror held up by a slave, she was surprised at how regal she looked. Of course, she thought, my height is finally proving an advantage.

  Longinus, shivering in the predawn cold, but elegant in a finely spun long, white wool tunic and a purple-bordered toga trabea of white and red stripes, awaited her in the courtyard of the palace. His gray hair was beautifully curled and smelled of a fragrant pomade. Giving her a wan smile, he helped her into the litter, and climbed in to seat himself opposite her. The slaves lifted them and moved off and out through the palace gate.

  "If you are not too cold, Longinus, I should prefer to leave the curtains open. The sky before dawn is particularly lovely."

  He sighed, and nodded as he huddled down into the pillows.

  She smiled to herself, and for a few minutes they rode in silence, Zenobia watching the starry sky, now beginning to lighten faintly at theedgesofthehorizon. "Name me an unmarried man of good family whom we might wish to honor," she said.

  Her question brought instant interest in Longinus's brown eyes. He sat up, and she could see his subtle brain mulling over the matter while at the same time wondering what she was up to this time. Finally he said, "The man who comes to mind is Rufus Acilius Curius. His father was a Roman centurion who married the daughter of a wealthy Palmyran merchant about thirty years ago. I remember it because it caused a great scandal. The family was at that time untainted by Roman blood, and the father a fanatic on the subject, but the girl got pregnant by her lover, and there was no choice but to marry. The centurion, however, proved a good husband, and when he retired from the army settled here in Palmyra. Rufus Curius is the third son, and he chose to make the army his career. He is the first Palmyran-borh commander of Qasr-al-Hêr. He's very loyal to Odenathus."

  "Qasr-al-Hêr? The border fortress?"

  "Yes."

  "The gods! It is perfect! You are sure he has no wife? What of a betrothal? A mistress?"

  "None that I have heard."

  "Find out for certain, Longinus. I must know immediately!"

  "Why?" No one else would have dared to ask the question, but Zenobia was not offended by Longinus. He had become her close confidant.

  "Deliciae is Odenathus's concubine in name only. She is unhappy, Longinus. Odenathus does not need her. Frankly, she bores him, but he would not dismiss her, for she and her sons would suffer great shame if he did. She longs to be a wife, and to have other children. I have promised her that I would speak to Odenathus. She is young enough to begin a new life. I thought if he gave her in marriage to someone he wished to honor, it would solve the problem."

  "Yes," Longinus mused, "and now that you tell me what you want to do I can tell you that Rufus Curius is indeed the right man. I expect you want her sons to go with her, and Rufus Curius would be an excellent foster father for them. He will see they grow up to be loyal citizens and honest men." He gave her a wicked look. "I know that your intentions toward the lady Deliciae are good ones, but I cannot help but think you will not be sorry to see Linos and Vermis go."

  "For their own sakes, and for the sake of my son, Vaballathus, it is better that Deliciae's sons not grow up thinking that they are princes."

  The litter arrived at the home of Manlius Tullio Syrius. Longinus descended from the vehicle, then reached back in to help her out.

  Manlius Tullio Syrius knelt and touched the hem of Zenobia's skirts to his forehead. "You do us incredible honor, my Queen. The humble house of Tullio is made great by your presence."

  "Rise, father of my dearest friend, Julia. I should ill repay your daughter's friendship of many years if I did not come to wish her and her betrothed good fortune."

  The elder Tullio rose, and then each member of his family beginning with his wife, Filomena, paid homage to Zenobia. It was a large family, and afterward Longinus murmured softly to Zenobia, "If you had come a half-hour earlier I would have been frozen in my tracks by the time they all kissed your hem."

  Zenobia stifled a chuckle as the bride's mother spoke.

  "Julia would like you to serve as pronuba, your Majesty," Filomena said.

  "I should be honored, Aunt Filomena," was the reply. />
  Zenobia was led to the place of honor, and as the sun slipped over the horizon the public augur slit the throat of a young sheep, catching its blood in a silver basin. For some minutes the augur carefully viewed the young ram's smoking innards, and then he said, "The omens are most favorable."

  Now Antonius Porcius Blandus and Julia Tullio both appeared in the atrium, and the wedding began. Zenobia stepped forward, smiling at her friend, and before the many witnesses joined the hands of the bride and the groom. Shyly Julia repeated the traditional words, "When-and where-you are Gaius, I then- and there-am Gaia." The words of consent given, the ceremony continued, now led by the high priest of Jupiter and his assistants.

  For a moment Zenobia let her mind wander back to the happy day when she married Odenathus, and she sighed softly. She missed him so very much. If the damned Romans wanted the Persians subdued, why didn't they send their own generals instead of the King of Palmyra? The empire is too big, murmured a little voice in her head, and they can no longer control it all themselves. She pushed away the thought, and glanced about at the other guests. Marcus Alexander Britainus was staring at her, and for some reason that she didn't understand she blushed. She was instantly furious at herself, and shot him a withering look, but to her surprise he was no longer looking at her. What on earth was the matter with her? she wondered.

  " Feliciter !” the guests shouted, and Zenobia realized that the ceremony was over. She watched as Antonius Porcius vigorously kissed his rosy-cheeked bride.

  "Are you satisfied now?" asked Marcus, suddenly at her side. "It is obvious that he loves her."

  "Yes," Zenobia answered slowly. "It will be a good marriage, and I am glad for Julia." She took a goblet of wine offered by a slave, as did Marcus.

  "Would I offend you, Majesty, if I told you that you were the most beautiful woman in this room, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my entire life, in all my travels."

  For a moment her heart beat so quickly that she could not catch her breath to speak. Finally she managed to say, "Why do you say such a thing to me, Marcus Britainus?"

  "Why should it embarrass you that I speak a truth," he said. "Are we not good enough friends after all these years that I may say what I feel to you, offer a compliment?"

  "You have never said such things to me, Marcus Britainus. I am merely surprised."

  "The wine makes me bold," he teased gently, and then he said softly so only she might hear, "Zenobia, look at me."

  Surprised, she raised her eyes to him. Never before bad he dared to use her name. His blue eyes, seeming to devour her, held her prisoner, and she was mesmerized while a strange heat swept over her body, rendering her almost helpless.

  "Are you a sorcerer too, Marcus Britainus?" she finally said, very shaken.

  "Only a man, Majesty," was the reply. "I am only a man."

  She thought about the incident later that night after all the festivities were over. Longinus, who had observed the little encounter between his mistress and Marcus Britainus, had not left her side for the rest of the day; but he said nothing, for he could see that she was disturbed.

  She was restless that night. Each time she drifted off she would see his face with its high cheekbones, strong jaw, long nose, and those blue eyes that caressed and blazed down at her until she awoke, drenched in her own sweat, her heart pounding. I have been too long without my Hawk, she thought with strangely clear logic. I seem to be a woman who cannot get along without a man.

  It would have disturbed Zenobia even more had she known that Marcus also lay awake that night. His passion for her had not abated, but rather grown over the years. Often he questioned himself as to whether it was simply because he could not possess her, but the answer was always the same. He loved her.

  He had chided himself even as he had said the provocative words that risked his entire relationship with her. It had been a rash thing to do, but for once he had longed for Zenobia to look at him like a man, and not a teacher. When his eyes had held hers in thrall that morning he had yearned to sweep her into his arms, to kiss her marvelous ripe mouth, to caress her beautiful body until she swooned with rapture. Then he had seen her frightened eyes, and he had released his hold upon her. Why had she feared him? Was it possible that she was finally realizing that there was more to him than just history lessons?

  Marcus stretched his long body as he sought to find a more comfortable position. He smiled ruefully. How unlike the bold and licentious women of Rome Zenobia was. She was still an innocent, and it was his misfortune to have fallen in love with her. A man of less character might have attempted to seduce her, but it was not in his nature to entrap or force a woman. The men he knew in Rome, men who practiced their new morality with lustful gusto, would have laughed at him for a fool.

  ***

  Zenobia did not see Marcus for several days, and then she was only momentarily uncomfortable. He, however, seemed not to notice as he intently described Roman Britain to her. She would never know the effort it took him to appear so totally impersonal.

  Odenathus returned home victorious over the Persians, who had fled back across their borders to lick their wounds. It was autumn, and the Bedawi again left the oasis city to wander the desert while the great caravans traveled in and out of Palmyra with their varied goods. The king confirmed his wife's temporary appointment of Cassius Longinus as a member of the council. The government ran smoothly.

  "I have long wanted to get rid of Publius Cato, but there was simply no reason for me to dismiss him." He chuckled. "The gossip tells me that Publius Cato had bragged that I would reappoint him when I returned to Palmyra."

  "He will not thank you for making him a laughingstock, my Hawk. It might be wise to offer him some harmless, but seemingly important post."

  He hugged her lovingly. "I shall take your suggestion, Zenobia. The man who collects the taxes upon the silk from Cathay has recently died. We shall offer Publius Cato this post, although I doubt that those who import the silk thread to dye will thank us."

  "I have a feeling that they will cope a great deal more easily with Publius Cato than the government has been able to do," Zenobia replied.

  "You have done so well while I was gone," he complimented her. "Marius Gracchus himself told me-and compliments from that old fox do not come easily or often. Although the council was fearful of my departure, now they feel that I may meet my obligations as Rome's commander of the eastern legions without endangering Palmyra." He grimaced. "I am not sure that I should not be worried, Zenobia,- for if you prove a more adept ruler than I they could depose me."

  "I could do nothing if I did not know you were coming home to me, my Hawk!" she answered fervently.

  "There might come a time when you have to, my flower. Oh, I do not mean to frighten you, but no man, even a king, is impervious to an opponent's spear, an enemy's arrow. If I should die before Vaballathus is old enough to rule in his own right, you would be regent of this city, its ruler."

  "You will not die in battle. It is not your fate, I know it!"

  He kissed her slowly. "Sorceress," he murmured against her mouth. "What spells do you weave to keep me safe?" His hands slipped beneath her robes to caress her silky skin.

  "No Hawk!" she protested. "I yet have something to discuss with you."

  "Is it more important than our love?" he said, fondling a ripe breast.

  She squirmed away reluctantly. "It concerns our love, my Hawk. I love you with all my heart, and you, I know, love me. Still, Deliciae remains your concubine although you have not favored her in several years. Have you any idea how unhappy she is?"

  He looked curiously at her. "Are you suggesting that I return to her bed?"

  "If you do I shall scratch both your eyes out!" Zenobia said with mock anger. "No, my Hawk, that is not the answer. While you were away, Deliciae and I were much together, and one night she confided to me how unhappy she is. She is grateful to you, of course, but she longs for what we have. She wants a husband, and she wants other c
hildren. She has been loyal many years, and she deserves to be rewarded."

  "Deliciae really wants this?" he asked.

  "Yes."

  "And have you chosen a candidate for her hand?"

  "Rufus Curius, the commander of Qasr-al-Hêr."

  "How did you arrive at that choice?" His voice was somewhat strained.

  "It was Longinus's suggestion. He tells me that Rufus Curius is the first Palmyran-born centurion to command our border fortress. He says that Rufus Curius is a good man who will be a model husband for Deliciae and a fine foster father for Linos and Vermis."

  "How can you ask me to relinquish my sons?" he demanded of her, and Zenobia was truly shocked by the anguish in his voice.

  "I know how you love Linos and Vermis," she answered him, "but you do them no kindness by keeping them here in Palmyra at the palace. They have already begun asking why their half-brother, Vaballathus, is your heir instead of one of them. Your mother does not help, either, for she encourages this attitude in them. Reason cannot aid us, for logic will not prevail over emotion."

  "I want no other man raising my sons," Odenathus said stubbornly.

  Zenobia lost her temper. "And what of my sons!?' she demanded furiously. "If you were killed in battle what is to stop a dissident group from pressing a claim on Linos's part? No bastard has ever sat on Palmyra's throne, but by keeping your sons by Deliciae here in the palace you appear to favor them. There are those who might even assume that you favor them over your legitimate sons! You cannot control the situation if you are not here, my lord King."

  Now it was he who was shocked. Never had he heard her voice drip so with scorn and venom. She had always been truthful, even to the point of bluntness, but never had he heard her so fierce. Had her time as ruler of Palmyra given her a taste of power that she was reluctant to relinquish now that he had returned?

  The truth of the matter was that Deliciae's presence had become something of a burden. Still, he had never thought of sending his older sons away. "I must think on it, my flower," he said.