Beloved

by Bertrice Small

  "I will be there, Caesar," she replied in a fierce voice. "Cassius Longinus said that you must have your blood sacrifice, but I shall never forgive you for the guilt you have placed upon me."

  "Never," he replied, "is a long time, goddess. When you are in Rome with me you will forget."

  "I will never forget."

  "Go and rest," he repeated.

  Zenobia brushed past him and entered her bedchamber. There, Bab and Adria sat awaiting her return. They quickly rose to their feet at her entry and, hurrying toward her, wordlessly began to remove her jewelry and clothes.

  Although she did not believe that she could sleep, she did. Shock had taken its toll, and she could have easily slept for hours, but Bab gently shook her awake in the hour before sunset and helped her to dress, again in royal purple. Her numbed mind began to function again.

  She was alive. Her children were alive, and they would remain so unless Demi did something foolish. As long as they lived there was hope; hope of returning one day to Palmyra. How long would Aurelian last? Emperors came and went in these days with remarkable rapidity. In a few years what had transpired between Rome and Palmyra would be forgotten; and if she was in favor with a future emperor in Rome, she could possibly regain Vaba's inheritance.

  "You are ready," said Bab, who recognized her mistress's mood and had been silent all during the dressing.

  "Come with me, old woman," Zenobia said.

  "Did you think I would not?" came the quick reply. "You are strong, my baby, but no one is strong enough to bear alone what you must now face. I will always be with you; as long as these tired old legs can move."

  "I would come too, Majesty," quiet Adria said, and Zenobia turned in surprise to see the firm, resolute look in the slave girl's brown eyes.

  "Yes, Adria," she answered her. "You may come."

  Together, the three women left the queen's rooms, and walked slowly along the corridor leading to the main courtyard of the palace. Zenobia silently noted that her own personal guard had been replaced by Roman legionnaires. Though she felt sure that her men had not been harmed, she resolved to inquire of Aurelian what had happened to them.

  The Roman legionnaires guarding the entry to the central courtyard snapped smartly to attention as Zenobia passed through with her women. The sight greeting her outside almost made her falter, but old Bab hissed softly, "Courage, Queen of Palmyra!" Zenobia moved regally forward to mount with her women the raised platform that had been erected at one end of the courtyard. Aurelian already sat sprawled in a chair.

  "I told you that you did not have to come," he said.

  "I told you," she replied half angrily, "that these men you slaughter have served me faithfully, and I would come!"

  Aurelian signaled to one of his men. "Bring a chair for the queen," he said.

  "I will stand in respect," she quickly replied.

  He ignored her. "Whether you stand or sit, goddess, is your choice, but the chair is there should you need it."

  Zenobia looked out over the courtyard. The day had been a hot one, but now with sunset fast approaching the courtyard was in shadow.

  Zenobia turned to Rome's emperor. "Will it be quick?"

  "Yes," was the short reply.

  She wanted to cry, but she forced the tears back and swallowed down the lump in her throat. There were ten baskets lined neatly up in a long row at the center of the open courtyard. Realizing their significance, she shuddered with revulsion, then froze as the condemned men came from a side door of the palace. Each was flanked by two Roman guards, one of whom would act as headsman in the execution. The council members had chosen to wear pure white tunics that came to their ankles and somber black togae pullae, mourning garments. They walked proudly, their heads held high. As they turned to face the raised dais where Zenobia stood rooted, they raised their right arms in salute and cried out loudly, "Hail, Zenobia! Hail, Queen of Palmyra!"

  She drew herself up proudly then, and said in a voice for all to hear, "The gods speed your journey, my friends, for you are surely Palmyra's greatest patriots! All hail to you, Council of Ten!"

  "Enough," Aurelian snapped, and he signaled with his hand.

  Each member of the council was forced to kneel before a hateful reed basket, his bare neck bowed, easily accessible to his executioner. Each headsman raised his sword, and as they did Zenobia called out, "Longinus, farewell, my friend."

  "Farewell, Majesty," came his dear voice, and then the executioners struck with well-drilled precision, and the ten severed heads fell with a distinct thump into their waiting containers.

  She swayed, and Aurelian stood up and reached out to put a strong arm about her. "I do not need your help, Roman!" she snarled at him.

  "Death to the Roman tyrants!" The cry suddenly echoed about the courtyard, and in a hail of arrows the legionnaires in the open courtyard fell, some dead instantly, some mortally wounded by the poison-tipped arrows unleashed at them by the kneeling archers upon the palace roof.

  A tall young man stood up and looked scornfully down upon the stunned dignitaries on the platform. "Hail, Caesar," he said mockingly, "and welcome to Palmyra! Were the queen not in your grasp at this moment, you and the other Roman dogs with you would now be as dead as your execution squad. The people of Palmyra do not like what you have done. It was our craven king who opened the city's gates to you, not the people. Nevertheless we prefer King Vaballathus to a Roman governor. Reinstate him, or this will be just the beginning of our war with you!" Then without waiting for an answer, he and his archers disappeared from the rooftops.

  Gaius Cicero leapt from the platform, but Aurelian's voice was knife-sharp. "Don't bother, Gaius! They are long gone back into their rodent holes, and we will never find them." He turned to Zenobia. "The youth who spoke was your younger son, I presume?"

  She pushed his offending arm from her waist then, giving him a long look, smiled. With her women trailing behind her, she walked from the platform and disappeared into the palace. Once safe within her rooms, she said furiously, "Find Demi, Bab! There must be someone who knows where he is hiding."

  The doors to her bedchamber opened, and Vaba rushed in, his face dark with anger. "He is your son, Mother! Your son!”

  "He is also your brother," she snapped back at him. "I have ordered Bab to seek Demi out, for I do not agree with his methods any more than you do, Vaba. You might know where he is. Who are his special friends now? We must find him!"

  "Why?" countered Vaba. "So you may save his miserable life? I hope to the gods that the Romans catch him and kill him!"

  Zenobia's hand shot out and made firm contact with the cheek of her older son. "Don't ever say such a thing again. I want Demi found because I do not want him to throw away his life needlessly. I want Demi found so that he does not ruin your future, and that of your children."

  "What future?" he demanded scornfully. "There is no future for me in Cyrene. There is no future for my descendants. Best Flavia miscarry of the unfortunate babe she now carries. Better we never have any children at all!"

  "You fool!" Zenobia almost shouted. "You only see what is in front of you! Why can you never see ahead?" Almost absently she reached out, and rubbed at the red imprint of her hand on his cheek. "Vaba, listen to me. Aurelian will fall like all of Rome's emperors in these past years; and the emperor to follow him will fall. I will be in Rome making friends, building my connections, always supporting the right faction. In five years, ten at the most, you will return to Palmyra as its rightful king. I promise you this, my son! I swear it! Have I ever broken a promise to you, Vaba?"

  He looked at her wonderingly, and shook his head. Then he said, "Do you never stop scheming, Mother?"

  "Will you trust me, Vaba?"

  "I have always trusted you, Mother."

  "Good! Now, think! Where can Demi be hiding?"

  "It has to be at Cassius Longinus's house in the city. Longinus's little friend, Oppian, has been giving Demi and his friends occasional shelter, although I doubt that
Longinus was aware of it. He left the boy alone as he did not want him here at the palace, and Oppian was lonely for the company of other young men. I am sure that Longinus willed the house to him, and equally sure you will find Demi there. Or at least Oppian will know where he is."

  Zenobia turned to speak to Bab, but the old woman forestalled her, raising up her hand, and said, "I am already gone. I shall bring him back when I find him."

  Zenobia sent a message to Aurelian asking that she be allowed the traditional mourning period. To her surprise, he sent back an immediate reply by his personal secretary, Durantis, agreeing to her request, but stipulating that she keep to her own apartments and own garden. She assented. She knew that he acquiesced because it suited him, not her. He probably needed the time to consolidate his victory. With Vaballathus deposed, the Council of Ten dead, and the queen out of sight, Palmyra would naturally turn to Roman authority.

  It was late that night when old Bab returned, and she was alone. "He is mere," she said, "but he will not come to the palace. He fears a trap."

  "He said that?" Zenobia was furious.

  "He does not distrust you," Bab quickly assured her, "but he fears a Roman trap. There is no one left you may rely upon, he says, now that the council is dead."

  "Did you use the secret gate in the garden?" Zenobia asked Bab.

  "I did, and I was seen by no one. I am not so old that my eyes and ears cannot see or hear properly."

  "Then if you can get out, so can I," Zenobia said.

  "That is just what Prince Demetrius said!" Bab replied. "He said that you must come tonight, however, for after tonight the Roman is sure to put a watch on you. Tonight he will assume you too devastated to take any kind of action. We will have to walk, my baby, but at this very minute two of Prince Demi's men are waiting for us outside the palace to escort us in safety."

  "Adria!" Zenobia called, and the young slave girl came instantly.

  "Majesty?"

  "You heard?"

  "Yes, Majesty."

  "I want you and Bab to remain here. You will sit outside my bedchamber door as if keeping watch. Bab will sit inside my chamber by my bed; a bed that will appear to have a sleeping woman in it. Should the emperor come you will do your best to prevent his entering my room, but should he ignore you, then Bab will handle it. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, Majesty." Adria smiled. "It will be a pleasure to deceive the Roman dogs!"

  Zenobia looked with new eyes upon her young servant. Until recently she had not given the girl a great deal of attention, but of late Adria had shown intelligence and loyalty more worthy of a freed woman than a slave. "From this moment on, Adria, you are no longer a slave," Zenobia said quietly. "Tomorrow I shall have the papers drawn up freeing you."

  "Majesty!" Adria's usually plain, round face was suddenly pretty with her joy, and her brown eyes were filled with tears of happiness. Dropping to her knees, she caught at the hem of Zenobia's gown. Raising it to her lips, she kissed it fervently and said, "I will never leave you, Majesty! I would not want to leave you, for you are goodness itself! Thank you! Thank you!"

  Zenobia gently touched the girl's strangely beautiful brown-gold hair, and said, "Get up, Adria. I must go."

  "I do not like you going alone," Bab fretted.

  Zenobia did not argue with her. She simply said, "I can move far quicker without you," and Bab was forced to agree. Without another word she swaddled Zenobia in a long, totally enveloping, hooded black cape, and watched with worried old eyes as her mistress went swiftly through the bedchamber door, out into the darkness.

  Zenobia picked her way through the blackness of her garden, for there was no moon this night. She could not be quite sure where the little hidden door lay, and so she carefully felt her way along the vined wall until her hands made contact with the smooth, ancient wood. Reaching up, she found the key upon its hook. She unlocked the door, slipped through, and relocked it from the other side before returning the key to her robes. Turning, she stood very still and listened, her sharp ears attuned to the desert night. To her right she could hear faint breathing. Turning, she followed the small sound.

  "Majesty?" tame the voice in the darkness.

  "Lead on," she commanded softly, and then followed the two retreating shadows down the street. Together, the three moved swiftly through the back streets of the city, carefully avoiding the watchful Roman patrols. They did not speak until at last they stood before a garden wall. "We will have to scale it, Majesty," one of the shadows whispered.

  "Very well," she agreed, and the first young man leapt upon the shoulders of the second, and reaching down slightly pulled Zenobia upward until she was even with him. Then he carefully placed her on the top of the wall, joined her, and leaning down again pulled the second man up. "I can get down myself," the queen said, and leapt down into the garden of Cassius Longinus's house, landing in, from the smell of it, a bed of tangy herbs. The two shadows upon the wall joined her quickly, then led her through the garden and into the darkened house.

  Once inside the house, she was taken down a flight of stone steps into the catacombs beneath it. There, in a torchlit underground room, she found herself among a large group of young men, many of whom she recognized as coming from the city's greatest patrician and commercial families. Seeing her, they instantly came to attention, their right arms raised in salute as they cried out, "Hail Zenobia! Hail, Queen of Palmyra!"

  She graciously acknowledged them, and then the group parted, and Demetrius came forward to embrace his mother. She was amazed by the difference in his appearance from when she had left Palmyra several weeks back. His face was suddenly more mature, his stature positively regal. "Welcome, my Mother. Welcome to the Brotherhood of the Palm."

  Zenobia did not choose to mince words: "If you think to please me or the King by your futile rebellion, you do not."

  "What?" Demi demanded imperiously. "Have you become the Roman's champion as well as his lover, my Queen?"

  A hundred pairs of young eyes swung to look upon Zenobia.

  "You are as impetuous as your brother, Demi," Zenobia said in an amused tone, though she was feeling far from amused. She turned to allow her gaze to encompass them all. "Surely you do not really believe you can force the Romans from Palmyra? What is it you hope to accomplish?"

  "We want Vaba reinstated," Demi said in a loud voice. "He may not be the best of kings, but he is a Palmyran king. We want no Roman governor, Mother."

  The young men in the room nodded, and murmured their agreement.

  "I want Vaba reinstated, too, Demi, but the Romans cannot be forced from Palmyra, and the city is going to have to endure a military governor for the next several years. In time I will return Vaba to Palmyra as its king. It cannot be done overnight, but I will get it done! Trust me, all of you!" The queen held out her hands in appeal, and the young men in the torchlit room looked as if they might waver.

  Then Demi's voice sounded, fierce and angry. "No! I will not have you prostitute yourself to the Romans, Mother! Vaba must be reinstated now. If he leaves Palmyra they will never let him back, and this city will not endure foreign rule!"

  "What do you know of foreign rule?" Zenobia demanded furiously. "Since before your birth the city has been free, but before you and Vaba the Romans ruled here for over a hundred years and Palmyra survived: as did our family. Do you think this city suffered under Antonius Porcius, Demi? We will bide our time again, and in the end we will win again; but you cannot drive the Romans away!"

  "They will go! We will fight them in the streets unto the last man, but we shall not let them have the city!"

  "Your actions will destroy Vaba's chances, but perhaps that is your real motive. Perhaps you believe that if you cannot have the city then your brother will not, either. Is this how I have raised you? To be a betrayer of your family, of Palmyra?" The room was deathly silent now, and Zenobia looked upon the eager faces before her. "I appeal to you, my sons!" she said, her look sweeping them all. "Have patience, and Palmyr
a will be ours again."

  "They slaughtered the Council of Ten," a voice said, and the crowd parted to reveal young Gaius Porcius. "My father lies dead this night, my Queen. My mother might as well be, for she has not spoken a word since sunset. She stares into space and there is no feeling or expression in her eyes. How can we simply sit back and accept this injustice?"

  "Your father would have agreed with me, Gaius Porcius," was Zenobia's reply. "Though he was born a Roman, he was a loyal Palmyran. He would want what is best for Palmyra, and he trusted me to make that decision. There is a time for quick action, and there is a time for patience. Now is the time for patience. Sending Vaba into exile, taking me to Rome, destroying our council- these were all planned by the emperor as object lessons to our people. He will do no more. There are to be no fines, no new taxes, nothing. It will be business as usual in Palmyra under a Roman governor. But in the end we will win!"

  "How can you be so sure?" Demi persisted. "Has your Roman lover assured you of it?"

  "You are a fool!" Zenobia snapped at her son. "I thought that you had more sense than Vaba, but you are just as bad. Aurelian forced me, but I realized quickly I might turn that experience into an advantage for Palmyra. You may scorn me for it if you choose, but what I do I do for Palmyra! When Vaba is restored how many of you will be here to help him? You will all be dead of your own foolishness! Do not rebel any further, I beg you! Palmyra needs her strong and intelligent young men!"

  "Go back to your Roman lover, my Queen," Demetrius said coldly to his mother. "If you are suddenly weary of defending our homeland, we are not. Palmyra will rise up against these tyrants!"

  "Will you not be satisfied until you have destroyed the city, my son?" Zenobia demanded.

  'Take her back," Demi commanded the two young men who had accompanied Zenobia to the meeting, and before she might speak further they hustled her quickly up the stairs, through the quiet house, and back into the garden. Zenobia sighed sadly. Demetrius had become a fanatic. She silently prayed that Demi's followers would fall away, and that he would come to his senses. She could only hope that he was not caught, for Aurelian would not be kind. He would want to make an example of Demi, and that would mean his death. She sighed again before she once more scaled the garden wall and dropped into the street below. There were times in her life when she felt terribly alone.