Beloved
Page 35
"Not the king's suggestion?"
He hesitated, and that hesitation told her all she need know. The king fears for the city's safety," Longinus attempted to excuse Vaballathus.
"Please thank the council for me, Longinus. I must assume that I will be kept from them."
"Has he said what he means to do about the government, Majesty?"
"Government has not been the main focus of our discussions," Zenobia said somewhat wryly.
Cassius Longinus flushed. "Majesty…" he gestured helplessly.
"I know, Longinus. It is the way of war, and for all my rank I am nought but a woman in the eyes of the victorious general from Rome."
"He has not hurt you?" Longinus looked concerned.
"Only my pride, old friend, and that, as you are well aware, is great. I expect I can spare a small piece for Aurelian to play with." She chuckled. "Despite my status as the defeated queen I seem to continue winning small battles." She gestured gracefully, and he smiled back at her.
"The city would have died for you, Majesty!"
"I know that, Longinus. Perhaps, however, I have been wrong. I have been told that I have not the right to ask that of my people. In the end what is important? That Palmyra survive! I took my chance with Rome, and I lost." She sighed sadly, and had he not known her better, he would have sworn that he saw a tear in her eye.
"They will probably exile you, Majesty."
"I know, Longinus, but if Vaba can remain here to rule, then Odenathus's dynasty continues. There will come another time, another age, another Palmyran king, and we will finally be free!"
"Do you really think that the emperor will leave Vaba here?"
"Vaba is hardly a threat to Rome. His ploy of not coming to give Aurelian the keys to the city because of the young queen's indisposition was a brilliant stroke. He has made himself look like a lovesick young fool who puts a woman above duty. That should give Rome a solid feeling of security."
Ahead of them Aurelian suddenly stopped his chariot and, turning about, called to Zenobia, "Come, goddess, and ride with me. We both know it does no good for you to walk behind me in defeat if no one is looking to see your defeat. You, too, Cassius Longinus. Perhaps you can enlighten me as to why Palmyra appears so deserted." He reached down to her and, taking her outstretched arm, pulled her up, sliding an arm about her waist as she reached the chariot floor. Longinus was left to draw himself up by means of the handhold.
Once they were all safely within the chariot, Aurelian let the reins loosen a bit, and his cloud-white horses pranced forward again. The emperor turned his blue eyes upon Cassius Longinus. "Well?" he said. "Why is the city in hiding?"
"Palmyra loves its queen, Caesar. We will not be party to her shame."
Aurelian smiled coldly. "Palmyra has no queen," he said, and felt Zenobia shiver in his tight grasp. But when he looked over at her, she was staring straight ahead, seemingly unperturbed. Leaning over, he murmured against her ear, and the heady hyacinth fragrance she always wore battered his senses. "What sorcery is this, goddess, that you can arouse me without even seeming to try to arouse me?"
"You imagine it, Roman," was her cold reply.
He laughed low, and his laugh was intimate and insinuating, implying things she didn't even want to think about or consider. "You are the most intriguing captive I have ever taken," he said. "Fight me all you wish, goddess. I know how to defeat you."
Zenobia laughed scornfully. "You know how to overcome me physically, Roman, which is not surprising considering your height and girth."
Aurelian pressed his lips together, making his face appear even more severe. She had stung him successfully.
The royal residence came into view, and Aurelian had to admit to himself that the beautiful marble buildings easily rivaled his own official palace on the Palatine Hill in Rome. The entry stood open, and the emperor's chariot swept through into the courtyard, the men of his own legion positioning themselves about the palace in prearranged order. Not all of the army had entered the city, although part of each of the four legions had come; and as they had marched through me city toward the palace, centurias, maniples, and even full cohorts had dropped from each legion, taking control of government buildings, the great merchant houses, the university. Rome was quickly in control.
In the courtyard of the palace the first signs of life were visible as slaves rushed forward to catch the heads of the emperor's horses. Then upon the portico of the palace the Council of Ten appeared, surrounding the young king almost protectively. Cassius Longinus leapt from the rear of the chariot as soon as it had stopped, and reached up to lift Zenobia down. Without so much as a backward glance at Aurelian she walked swiftly toward her son.
The Council of Ten, the attending soldiers, and the slaves all bowed before the queen, parting to allow her a path to the king. Mother and son looked at each other, and then Vaba said with honest emotion, "Praise be to the gods that you are safe, Mother!"
For a moment Zenobia closed her eyes, and then a deep sigh rent her slender frame. "I would have given my life for the city, Vaba," she said quietly.
"It would have been a needless sacrifice, Mother. We both know that, don't we?"
How can I be angry with him? she wondered quickly. He has done his duty toward Palmyra as he has seen it, and I was the one who gave him the king's power. It is not my way, but he is as steadfast as I am.
Zenobia held out her arms to her son, and he quickly stepped into her embrace. "I know that you are angry with me," he whispered, "but they would have had the city no matter the cost. I could not let you die, Mother. I could not!"
Without warning the tears appeared and spilled down her cheeks. "Perhaps they will let you rule still," she whispered back, hugging him tightly. "I shall take all the blame, Vaba. I will not allow you to be punished for me, and I will have no more gallantry from you!" She stepped back from him, her beautiful face serious in her intent.
Gently Vaballathus brushed the stray tears from his mother's cheeks. "For my father's sake?" he gently teased her.
"Yes," she smiled at him, and then suspiciously, "Why are you suddenly so amenable. Flavia has indeed wrought a miracle if she has matured you in six short months of marriage."
"I am beginning to realize what it is not only to be a king, but a parent as well, Mother," was the quiet answer. "Flavia is with child."
"Then she really was indisposed?" Zenobia was pleased, but at the same time a tiny voice said that she was too young, too beautiful, too sensual to be a grandmother. She was but thirty-four!
Then a sharp voice destroyed her reverie. "If this is your son, goddess, I should like to be presented." Aurelian was at her side.
Zenobia looked up, faintly annoyed. "Vaballathus, my son, here is the mighty Roman conqueror, Aurelian." Her gaze flicked insolently to the emperor. "My son, the King of Palmyra," she said.
The two men stared coldly at each other, and men Aurelian said mockingly, "Will you not bid me welcome to Palmyra, Va-ballathus?"
"I did not think it necessary," was the quick reply. "You Romans seem not to mind if a city welcomes you or not."
Aurelian looked carefully at the young man. "There is a lot of your mother in you, boy," he replied.
"Thank you, sir." Vaba was totally unruffled, and Zenobia was quite proud of him.
"We will talk inside," the emperor snapped. "All of you," he continued, including the nervously waiting Council of Ten with a wave of his hand. "Cassius Longinus, lead the way. Gaius Cicero, attend me!"
At the door of the main council chamber, Aurelian stopped and said to Zenobia, "Not you, goddess. This is men's work."
Longinus saw the furious retort rising to her lips, but before he might intervene the king spoke. "The queen is a member of the council, Caesar. Without her we cannot legally meet."
"And we will not," put in the white-haired, elderly Marius Gracchus.
"If you would treat with us," Antonius Porcius contributed, "then the queen must be with us, Caesar. We mean y
ou no disrespect, but these are our ways. We know that, understanding them, you will be fair."
Aurelian looked at the council and, seeing that they were adamant, relented. He had hoped to humiliate her with the government, but, by the gods!, she certainly commanded loyalty. He felt almost envious of such devotion.
"If it is your custom," he said casually, "then the queen may partake of this meeting." He entered into the council chamber and seated himself at one end of the long table.
"You sit at the other end, Mother," Vaba said softly, and Zenobia knew that her son was giving his permission for her to take a leading role in the negotiations to come.
Regally she settled herself, nodding as she did so to Vaba and the council to sit down.
Aurelian noted all of this. It seemed almost a shame to break her, but as much as he admired her, she was a dangerous enemy; an enemy Rome could not afford. She wanted the entire Eastern Empire, and she had taken it. Left in Palmyra, she would rise again. He looked down the table at the faces turned to his, and said, "Palmyra is no longer a client kingdom. It will return to province status effective immediately."
Then the emperor sat back, expecting the uproar that followed. The Council of Ten was speaking all at once, their voices raised in strong protest against what seemed to them an arbitrary decision. They had expected negotiations, the removal of Zenobia, even trade sanctions and heavy fines; but not this. They had opened their gates allowing the Roman emperor inside their city and this is the way he responded.
"Be silent!" Zenobia's voice stilled the cacophony. She looked down the table at the emperor. "You are overly harsh, Caesar." He noted with amusement that it was the first time she had used his proper title, and without sarcasm. "It is I who am at fault, not Palmyra. Do not punish the city, nor my son; rather, punish me. Vaballathus will serve you well. He is his father's son before he is mine, and my husband was always loyal to Rome. It was he who kept the eastern boundaries secure for the empire against the Persians. Surely you will bear this in mind before you make a final decision."
It was as close to begging as she was going to come, and Aurelian knew it. "Why should I heed your words, Queen of Palmyra? Your son has not proven himself, as did his father, and he is young besides. Give me one good reason why I should listen to you?"
Zenobia stood up and gave the emperor a long, slow look. "Because I am Palmyra," she said quietly.
He was frankly astounded by her words, but a quick look at the others confirmed that she had spoken from truth not vanity. 'I will think on it," he said. This was a far more dangerous woman than he had realized. Better he spend a little time assessing the situation before making a final decision. "The council is dismissed," Aurelian concluded. Then he rose and walked from the room.
"Go with him, Antonius Porcius," Zenobia begged. "You were the last imperial governor before we were freed of Roman control. Plead for my son! For your daughter, the young queen, for our unborn grandchild who will be Palmyra's rightful heir!"
Antonius Porcius arose dutifully and followed after the emperor. He had not changed a great deal over the years, but Zenobia noticed that he moved more slowly than she remembered and that silver was beginning to streak his remaining hair.
"What are we to do, Majesty?" Marius Gracchus asked.
"Wait," was the reply. "He is not an easy man. I suspect that he truly wants Palmyra to return to province status, but we must prevent that at all costs. Vaba must be allowed to remain king. Perhaps not in his lifetime, but one day we will again rise, and the inheritors of Odenathus's dynasty must be ruling the city when the time comes! To this end I expect you to all work, and if the people really love me then they will work toward this goal, too."
"But what will happen to you, Majesty?"
"I shall go to Rome, Marius Gracchus. Aurelian has already told me that much. He will not, I fear, trust me out of his sight, and he is wise not to." She smiled at the elderly councillor. "Given the chance, I should do it again, old friend."
Marius Gracchus chuckled. "With you will go our greatness," he replied.
"Do not say that," was her quick answer. "Vaballathus is a young man now. Who knows what miracles he will accomplish in his time. And what of those who come after him? This city has stood since the days of the Hebrew king, Solomon, its founder, and it has seen its share of greatness. It will again." She stood up. "I am tired," she announced. "I have not slept well these last months, but now I think I might." She looked over her council. "I do not know if we will be allowed to meet again," she said. "I thank you for your loyalty to Palmyra, to me, and to my late husband. I know you will give that same loyalty to my son, the king. Long live Palmyra!" Then she was swiftly gone from the council chamber.
There was not one member of the Council of Ten who did not unashamedly wipe the tears from his eyes; and then slowly each one of them moved forward, kneeling before Vaballathus to pledge fealty to him as they had done upon his father's death those long years ago. Then each departed to his own section of the city to do the queen's bidding. It was not an easy task, for the Romans were everywhere and public gatherings had already been forbidden; but slowly the council members moved, in some cases from house to house, spreading Zenobia's words. The city must rise behind their young king in order to preserve the dynasty. The queen's day was done, but the Roman emperor must feel the weight of public opinion behind the House of Odenathus.
Zenobia had retired to her own apartments, where she had a long, leisurely soak in a hot bath scented with oil of hyacinth. The queen's long hair was washed and brushed dry so that it floated about her like a veil. A soft Egyptian cotton robe was slipped over her head, and then she lay down upon her couch to sleep.
Sleep came quickly. The last thing she remembered was the bright sunlight of midday streaming in a blazing shaft across the marble floor of her room. When she awoke a single lamp burned in the darkness of the room and in the gardens outside she could hear the crickets singing their evening song. Slowly she stretched herself, one leg, one arm, then her entire body, feeling the tension entirely gone. She sighed deeply, and then started at the sound of Aurelian's voice.
"You have slept long, goddess. Are you feeling better?"
"What are you doing here, Roman?'" but her voice lacked any anger.
"Watching you," he replied. "I like watching you in sleep. It is one of the few times you are not spitting and snarling at me like a wild thing."
"We cannot be friends, Roman," she said quietly.
"Perhaps not right now, goddess, but I enjoy looking at you. You are extravagantly beautiful."
"Like the ladies of Rome?"
"Great Jupiter, no! You are exotic; they are…" he thought a moment, and then he said, "they are not exotic, goddess, as you are. You are as fair as a dawn, and as elusive as a soft desert wind."
"Why, Roman, you are quite poetic."
Aurelian arose, came across the room, and seated himself on the edge of Zenobia's sleeping couch. She tensed, and he said, "You are not afraid of me, and yet-" He looked piercingly at her. "What is it, goddess? Why do you grow stiff when I but sit by your side?"
"Because I know what your sitting by me portends, Roman. You will force yourself upon me once again, to impress once more the imperial victory upon my body and soul." Her voice was bitter, almost raw in its tone.
"You still love Marcus Alexander, don't you, goddess?" She said nothing, and so he continued. "He is my niece's husband, and already they are parents. It is a futile love you hug to your heart, goddess. Let me love you."
Her eyes widened in surprise. "You?" The scorn in her voice was fierce. "I shall never give myself into the keeping of any man ever again, Roman; but you? You love me? What madness is this? What of your poor wife who waits for your return? I am a queen! No matter I am a defeated queen, I am still a queen. I am not some poor innocent to be honored by the position of mistress! You insult me!"
"Your illustrious ancestress, Cleopatra, was honored to be the mistress of two Romans," he said.
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"It cost her her life," was the cold reply. "She put herself into the keeping of Romans, and in the end it destroyed her! I will not be destroyed by you-or any other Roman!"
"I cannot destroy you, Zenobia-only your own bitterness can do that," was his reply. "You will be my mistress because I make that decision, and not you." He reached out for her, but Zenobia drew back.
"And now," she said angrily, "now you will once again rape me to prove the truth of your words."
"I have not once raped you, goddess. Each time I have made love to you, you have wanted me to do so. The only one you have been fighting is yourself!"
"I despise you," she whispered half fearfully. "I hate you! How can I want your lovemaking when I detest you so?"
"Lust, Zenobia. Did I not tell you that first night? You may not want me, but your beautiful body does. You are a woman; you have known a man's love and you have known a man's passion. Neither of these things have frightened you. Why then should a man's honest lust cause such a turmoil within you, goddess?"
"It is wrong," she said firmly. "Lovemaking without affection or caring is wrong."
"Who has told you these things, goddess? You are young yet, and certainly your small experience with but two men cannot qualify you to make such a judgment."
He reached out for her again, and this time his arm slid about her waist and drew her resisting body close to his. "I have never experienced love, and yet I enjoy lying with a beautiful and passionate woman. None have ever complained to me before, goddess. This foolishness is but in your mind. If you would simply enjoy the feelings I can engender within your body, you would see that I am right."
"You are a wicked man," she said softly. "I will not allow you to destroy me."
"I will not destroy you, goddess," he murmured, and his breath was warm against her ear, the little puffs of his words causing her to shiver slightly. "Let me love you, Zenobia. Don't fight me." A hand began a slow, gentle caressing of her breasts. "Ah, goddess, my beautiful goddess," Aurelian whispered, his lips moving against her soft, fragrant hair.
Zenobia felt his hands and his lips tenderly questing. She heard the restrained passion in his voice, and her soul seemed to draw back deep within her where she might watch him in safety. She was, despite her long nap, still so very weary, and she had no strength left to fight him. Opening the delicate silver filigree fastenings of her sleeping robe, he pushed it back and off her shoulders. He was being very careful, very gentle. For several long moments he simply sat and stared at her firm golden breasts as they rose and fell with her breathing.