Beloved

by Bertrice Small

"I am to bring you to the emperor, Majesty. He says…" the soldier in Gaius Cicero flushed, "he says he cannot bear to be without you, and I am to bring you to him."

  "Have you come alone, Gaius Cicero?" she asked him.

  "Yes, it was thought I might travel more quickly. We can pick up an escort in Rome."

  "Very well, Gaius Cicero, if the emperor insists then who am I to argue? It will take several days, however, for my things to be packed. I was planning on going into Rome today, and so I shall ask you to accompany me; but first I will give my servants orders to pack." with a smile she turned and retraced her steps back to her bedchamber, where she explained Gaius Cicero's presence to both Bab and Adria.

  “What will you do, my baby?"

  "I will go into Rome now with Gaius Cicero, and I shall let Marcus handle this. He and Gaius Cicero are friends. Perhaps we should warn him of the possible plot against Aurelian. If he does not return to the emperor then he may be saved. I do not know his wife, but I have heard it said that Clodia Cicero is a good woman, and they have several children. If he returns to the emperor he will surely suffer Aurelian's fate. That, however, must be up to my husband. I will not return here, Bab, and so tomorrow you must bring Mavia and the rest of the servants to me in Rome."

  "It will be as you command, my baby," Bab said. "Be careful, Majesty, lest Gaius Cicero suspect anything before you reach Marcus Alexander." She then helped Zenobia to dress for her journey into Rome.

  She left the Tivoli villa without looking back. The day was fair with early spring, and the Via Flaminia mildly busy with traffic moving toward the city. Zenobia noted many farm carts filled with the first produce, asparagus, tiny onions, new lettuce, and brightly colored flowers. There were some families, undoubtedly going to visit relatives in Rome; and peddlers come to sell their wares in the streets.

  There was little traffic from Rome until a troupe of horsemen came galloping down the road, causing those on foot and in smaller vehicles to scatter to the side of the Via Flaminia. As they were about to pass the chariot in which Zenobia and Gaius Cicero were riding their leader called a halt to his troupe.

  "Hail, Gaius Cicero! I thought you were with the emperor."

  "Hail, Fabius Marcellus! I was, but I was sent back on an errand."

  Fabius Marcellus looked at Zenobia, and then said, "Is this not the Queen of Palmyra, Gaius Cicero?"

  "I am Zenobia of Palmyra," she replied before he might speak.

  "I have an order for your arrest, Zenobia of Palmyra," came the frightening words.

  Gaius Cicero was shocked, and not a little surprised. "On whose order?" he demanded of Fabius Marcellus. "This woman is under the emperor's personal protection."

  "On the orders of the senate," came the reply.

  "There must be some mistake, Majesty," Gaius Cicero said. "Nonetheless I must let you go with Fabius Marcellus. I will seek to find an answer to this puzzle, and see to your release as quickly as possible."

  Zenobia was speechless with fear-not for herself, but for Marcus, for Mavia, for Dagian, for her servants. Why was she being arrested? Had they somehow found out about her marriage to Marcus? A thousand questions flew through her numbed brain, and then to her further terror she heard Fabius Marcellus say to Gaius Cicero:

  "I cannot let you go your way, Gaius Cicero. You are not where you should be, and you are in the company of this woman. I must ask that you accompany us until the senate knows of your presence and decides what to do with you."

  Gaius Cicero's hand went to his broadsword and then, upon reflectibn, fell away. He was badly outnumbered. This was either a ridiculous mistake, or else it was a plot against Aurelian. If it were an error he would shortly be free; if it were a plot then his fate was in the hands of the gods. "I will go with you," he said quietly, and Fabius Marcellus sighed, relieved. He had known Gaius Cicero for a long time, and he liked him. He had no wish to kill a good officer.

  Zenobia roused herself. "Where are you taking me?" she demanded, drawing herself up, her voice impersonal and imperious.

  "There is a small prison near the senate, Majesty. I have been ordered to escort you there," replied Fabius Marcellus, now slightly discomfited by the tone of Zenobia's voice.

  Gaius Cicero smiled to himself. The queen, he thought, could certainly rise to the occasion.

  " A small prison?" The outrage in Zenobia's voice was evident for all to hear.

  Fabius Marcellus suddenly realized that she was taller than he. He flushed uncomfortably, and then mumbled, "I am not to be held responsible for their decisions, Majesty. I only do my duty." He waved his hand in signal, and suddenly the chariot was surrounded by Praetorian guards. With a nod, and feeling that he had now regained charge of the situation Fabius Marcellus moved to the head of the group, and they began to move off toward Rome.

  "What do you know of this?" Gaius Cicero asked in a low voice.

  "Nothing, really," she answered, "but several days ago Senator Tacitus called upon me and questioned me closely."

  "About what?" Gaius Cicero was curious.

  "About whether I carried the emperor's child," was her reply.

  " Do you?" He looked closely at her.

  "No," Zenobia replied, "I do not. Oh, I know that the emperor thinks I do, but that is Aurelian's own desperation. You are not a fool, Gaius Cicero. You cannot believe that I care for Aurelian! I am an imperial captive. I have done what I had to to survive, to insure my children's survival. I have loved but two men in my life-my late husband and Marcus Alexander Britainus."

  "But I thought you hated Marcus for marrying Carissa." Gaius Cicero shook his head. "Give me a simple woman like my Clodia."

  "You must go to Marcus when you are released, Gaius Cicero. You must go to him, and tell him that I have been arrested. He will know what to do. And Gaius, remember your first loyalty is to your wife and family. I have warned you."

  "Do not fear, Majesty," was his reply. "It is simply a misunderstanding."

  "I know nothing for certain, Gaius Cicero, yet I do know that if I have been ordered arrested it is because the senate would be certain that I am not with child-Aurelian's child, his heir. When they are sure of that then I am certain to be released. Still I would have Marcus know where I am, Gaius Cicero. Will you promise to tell him for me?"

  "Very well, Majesty, I promise you." He paused, and then he said, "I wonder if they will kill me because I am the emperor's aide."

  "I do not think so, Gaius Cicero. Simply pledge your fealty to Rome, to the new emperor. Seek out Senator Tacitus, and explain to him that you are naught but a simple soldier, not a politician. He is a fair man, and he will protect you. So will your family. Yours is an old and honorable name, Cicero."

  Gaius Cicero looked heartened by her words. "You are probably right. Had I been with the emperor I surely would have been struck down, but the gods seemed to have arranged differently."

  Too quickly they were in Rome, and Zenobia found herself being escorted into a building of deceptively innocent white marble. Fabius Marcellus took her by the arm and presented her to the jailor.

  "I have the prisoner, Zenobia of Palmyra, on the senate's orders. She is to be held for interrogation."

  Fabius Marcellus loosened his grip on her arm, and Zenobia turned to Gaius Cicero. "Do not forget your promise, Gaius Cicero," she said before following after the jailor.

  They went through a door, and the stink that suddenly assailed her was worse than anything she had ever smelled. She gasped, and coughed, sudden tears coming to her eyes. "You'll get used to it," the jailor said matter-of-factly.

  "Never!" she said. "What on earth is it?"

  "The stink of human misery," he answered her.

  Glancing around her as she followed after the jailor, Zenobia shuddered with distaste. They were moving down a flight of stairs and she could see that both the steps and the walls were slippery with slime. Pitch torches stuck in crude iron holders lit the way, flickering smokily and eerily. Reaching the bottom of the steps, he
led her along a corridor lined with small wooden doors; there was no sound but the occasional rustle of rodents in the straw that lined the way. At the very end of the corridor he stopped, removed his key ring from his belt, and unlocked a door.

  "In there, my fine lady," he said, pointing through the open door.

  Zenobia ducked her head as she moved through the entry and into the cell. Behind her the door slammed, and she heard the lock scraping as the jailor turned the key in it. A quick look around the room convinced her that she was alone, and she breathed easier. Free now to explore her surroundings, she noted that the cell was small and obviously below ground level, for there was no window. A small pitch torch lit it, and for that she was grateful. If she had been thrown into darkness it would have been utterly terrifying, like being buried alive in one's tomb. There was straw on the floor, and in an alcove in the wall a cracked pitcher of tepid water had been set. There was nothing else to see, and so she sat down on the floor to wait. After a while she dozed.

  She was startled awake by the sound of the key in the lock again, and quickly scrambled to her feet with pounding heart to face two men who came into the cell.

  "You may close the door," one of the men said to the jailor, who instantly complied.

  The other turned to Zenobia and bowed politely. "Majesty, I am Celsus, the physician. I have been appointed by the senate to examine you to determine whether or not you are with child."

  "I understand," Zenobia replied. "What would you have me do, Celsus?"

  The physician looked to the other man. "This is an impossible place in which to examine a patient, Senator."

  "Nevertheless the senate commands it," was the reply.

  "Does the senate think I might have a clean basin with some warm water, and additional light, Senator?"

  The senator flushed. "Of course. You may see to it while I entertain Queen Zenobia. Hurry! This place is disgusting, and I wish to leave as quickly as possible."

  The physician bowed sarcastically, called to the jailor, and left with him to obtain what he needed. The other man looked long at Zenobia, finally saying, "I am Senator Valerian Hostilius, Majesty. I have been appointed by the senate to oversee this examination."

  "I remember you, Senator. I believe you wished to feed me to the lions the last time we met," Zenobia said scornfully.

  "It would have been better if the senate had listened to me," Hostilius said. "We can have no heirs of Aurelian!"

  "I am not with child, Senator," Zenobia said calmly.

  "So you say! So you say! I, however, was in the Temple of the Unconquerable Sun the night of the rites. The emperor was like a stallion that night! He was the god! He was! And you are the goddess! Even I can see it." Hostilius licked his lips excitedly. "Every one of the women he took that night has conceived a child, and you tell me you are not with child. I will not believe it unless the physician says it is so!"

  "Those women coupled with every man at that obscene orgy, not just the emperor," Zenobia snapped at him. "Aurelian is not capable of siring a child! His own wife says it." Then a horrifying thought crossed her mind. "What has happened to those women that Aurelian took that night?" she asked.

  "Dead!" was his answer. "All dead. We could have no spawn of Aurelian coming back to haunt us."

  "By the gods," she whispered, "you are all mad!"

  At that moment the physician returned with the jailor, and the required items. While the jailor set more light about the cell, the physician placed his basin of warm water upon the alcove shelf and washed his hands.

  "You will have to disrobe, Majesty," he said somewhat apologetically, and then snapped at the openmouthed jailor, "Out! Out, you vermin! There is nothing for you to see here." The jailor scuttled away slamming the door as he went.

  "Must he be here?" Zenobia demanded, looking at Hostilius.

  "I remain on the senate's orders lest you coerce this man into lying."

  "What?" Celsus looked outraged. "My reputation is one of honesty, Valerian Hostilius!"

  "Nonetheless I remain on the senate's orders," was the pompous reply.

  Celsus looked to Zenobia. "I am sorry, Majesty. I have never before examined a patient under such circumstances, and I do apologize."

  She nodded sympathetically at him, and men said, "What must I do?"

  "When you have disrobed, you will please to lie upon the straw here."

  Ignoring Hostilius, Zenobia removed her clothing and lay down upon the straw. She could feel the chill of the cell now, and involuntarily she shuddered. His look offered commiseration.

  The physician palpated her stomach and examined her breasts. Then taking infinite care not to hurt her, he gently examined her internally. Finally satisfied, Celsus arose from his position on the floor and, washing his hands again, said, "Queen Zenobia is not with child, Senator. I will tender my report in writing to the senate, but you may tell them that she is absolutely, positively not with child."

  Zenobia sat up, somewhat lightheaded. "Then I can be released?"

  "Unless the senate has other reasons for retaining you in custody, Majesty, I can see no reason why you can't be released now." He looked to Hostilius. "Senator?"

  "You are not empowered to make official decisions, physician. You have done your duty, now get you gone!"

  Zenobia struggled to her feet, her instincts warning her of impending danger.

  Celsus took a quick look at Hostilius, and then said, "I will wait for you, Senator. We came together, we shall leave together."

  Hostilius threw him a furious look, swallowed visibly, and then muttered, "Very well, I am ready."

  Celsus bowed to Zenobia. "Again, Majesty, I apologize for the inconvenience."

  Her eyes spoke her thanks to him before he turned and left the cell with the senator. Slowly Zenobia redressed, then sat back down to await her release. The extra lamps that the jailor had brought helped to cast a more cheerful light about the grim cell, and they even released a bit of warmth into the chill air. The time crawled by. In an effort to make it go faster she began to sing softly to herself.

  Suddenly the door to the cell creaked open, and it occurred to Zenobia that she hadn't heard the key in the lock. She rose to face Hostilius. He smiled nastily at her.

  "You thought that you were rid of me, didn't you?" he leered.

  The door closed behind him. Now she heard the key turning in the lock. "What do you want, Senator?" she said, keeping her voice steady.

  "You haunt me," Hostilius said. "Ever since that night in the Temple of the Unconquerable Sun, when I saw how beautiful you are, and how passionate, I have wanted you! Soon Aurelian will be dead. The plot is made, the conspirators chosen. It is only a matter of time, and he will be dead! You will need a new protector, Zenobia. You will need someone powerful to take care of you. The empire can be harsh with its captives, but if you will accept my protection, I will shower you with riches!"

  Zenobia stared at the senator in genuine surprise, and then she began to laugh. Her laughter shattered the heavy silence of the prison cell, and echoed from wall to wall with open mockery. Hostilius started with surprise, then grew red with anger; but before he could speak she regained control of herself, and said, "You have to be jesting, Valerian Hostilius! I am Zenobia, the Queen of Palmyra, not some expensive courtesan for hire."

  "You are an imperial captive, and Aurelian's whore!" he reminded her.

  "I am indeed an imperial captive," she snapped back at him, "but if the emperor is to be deposed, then I will no longer have to be his whore, Senator, and I will most certainly not be yours!"

  "I want you ! " He moved toward her, the violence of his lust clear in his eyes, in his movements.

  Her eyes swept the tiny cell for something to defend herself with, but there was nothing. Now it was Hostilius, seeing her predicament, who laughed. "If you harm me I will complain to the senate," she threatened him. "The jailor will identify you, Hostilius, and the physician saw your intent."

  "The jailor has b
een well paid to keep his mouth shut, and Celsus did not see me return." He reached out for her, and she shrank back against the wall. He chuckled, delighted by her reticence. "Come now," he wheedled. "I won't hurt you. I am said to be a good lover, and you are no maid to be coy with me."

  She looked at him, horrified. He was a nasty little man, she thought, at least two inches shorter than she, with a balding head of sparse black hair; a fat slug of a man with pudgy, plump hands. He was so white that he seemed almost bloodless.

  "You will take off your clothes for me," he said in a soft, dangerous-sounding voice.

  "I will not!"

  From among the folds of his tunic and toga he suddenly withdrew a small dog whip. "I am very proficient with this," he said, flicking it perilously near her face. "I could put out your eye should I choose to do so." She stood as still as a flushed rabbit as he rubbed the whip against her cheek. "Take off your clothes, Zenobia," he repeated.

  "You pig!" she hissed at him.

  'Take off your clothes," he smiled, knowing that he had won.

  As she slowly removed her tunic dress she debated the wisdom of physically attacking him. She was taller than the senator, but he outweighed her considerably. What would she do with him if she overpowered him? The jailor certainly wasn't going to come to her aid. It was an impossible situation, and Hostilius decided the matter by grabbing one of her arms as she freed herself of her clothing, yanking it up, and imprisoning it within a wall manacle. She gasped as the cold iron bracelet snapped shut about her wrist.

  "What are you doing?" she cried, frightened now.

  "Don't worry," he soothed her as he fastened her other wrist within the restraint. "I have the key to unlock you afterward."

  She hung now from the wall, her toes just barely grazing the straw on the floor. The wall behind her was cold and wet, causing her to arch her body outward. With trembling fingers Hostilius slowly slid her garments over her hips and down her legs to the floor. Then he stood back and stared at her. His eyes were glazed with desire, his mouth hung slack with his lechery.

  Finally he spoke, his voice hoarse with hunger. "You are even more beautiful than I remember." As he groaned she saw a wet stain begin to spread on his toga, and she realized with disgust that he had been unable to contain himself.