Beloved

14

Aurelian arrived home victorious from Gaul, and a small triumph was held, this time with the unfortunate Tetricus walking behind the emperor's chariot. In that chariot, Zenobia the captive Queen of Palmyra rode, again with her golden chains fastened to Aurelian's massive iron belt. This time, however, she was garbed in royal purple and gold garments, the Palmyran crown upon her head. Rome's emperor was making a strong point with the people; a point that they did not for all their grumbling miss. He was Caesar! His generals were not as easily impressed, for Aurelian had become more imperious as each day passed, and was beginning to believe his own legend.

The queen had been summoned from Tivoli to take part in this latest triumph, and afterward she was escorted to Aurelian's residence on the Palatine Hill. There had been little opportunity for them to speak even though they had shared the same chariot in the procession. She had faintly protested being sent to his palace, but he had quickly overruled her with a wave of his hand. "You will obey me, goddess! Must I again teach you the folly of disobedience?"

"As you will, Roman," she said scornfully, and he laughed.

"I see you have lost none of your spice, goddess. Good! I shall look forward to a long night of playful bedsport with you!"

Zenobia quickly turned away lest he see her repulsion. The moment of truth had finally come for her. She would have to enter into his games with gusto, for when he had left to go to Gaul she had been his willing mistress; now he would expect her to eagerly welcome his advances, having been bereft of him these last months. If she suffered she knew that Marcus suffered too, and whatever happened she would for his sake play the role of the emperor's whore. Just a little while longer, she reassured herself, and I will be free. I will have won!

She was escorted to the royal residence by some half-dozen Praetorian guards, and upon entering it she demanded of the haughty majordomo to be taken to the empress. Ulpia Severina yet lived, and for that small blessing Zenobia thanked the gods. Aurelian would never divorce his wife, and so as long as she lived Palmyra's queen was safe.

The empress lay upon her couch obviously quite ill, but when she saw Zenobia she attempted to rouse herself, smiling a sweet smile. "My dear," her weak voice was warm with welcome, "how kind of you to come visit me. I understand that you keep to your villa at Tivoli."

"I do, Majesty. Rome is too busy to suit me. Nevertheless I must beg your hospitality this night."

"But of course you may stay here," Ulpia Severina said, and Zenobia gratefully acknowledged the empress's consent.

Zenobia was then taken to a suite of rooms where a group of busy slaves awaited her. The chief of these women immediately pressed upon her a goblet of dark red wine, insisting that she drink it down. "It will give you strength, Majesty," the woman wheedled, "and it is the emperor's orders."

Zenobia took the goblet, ready to protest; but the wine, though heavy in appearance, was strangely light and fruity; and the queen was thirsty after the triumph. She quickly drained the goblet, and the slave woman smiled broadly with approval. "Now, Majesty, the bath awaits you," she said, and hurried Zenobia through tall double doors into the baths. There she was scraped, steamed, soaped, rinsed, and scraped again. A final rinse, and she was led to the massage table and made comfortable. A second goblet of wine was offered her. She was hot from the bath, and suddenly thirsty again, and so she again drained the container, the cool liquid slipping easily down her throat.

She stretched out upon the cool marble slab, and at once the slaves about her began to massage her body with a faintly scented pale-green lotion. They worked gently for some minutes as Zenobia grew sleepy with the wine and their ministrations. Then they were turning her over onto her back, massaging her breasts and her belly. She protested faindy, but suddenly all strengdi was gone from her limbs. She slipped into a half-conscious state, dimly realizing that she had been drugged and wondering why.

Everything became shadowy even though she was quite sure her eyes were open. She was being carried, and yet her body felt weightless, as if she were floating. The dimness began to ease, and once more she could see quite clearly. Zenobia was shocked to find she was in some sort of a temple, and bound by delicate golden chains to a marble altar atop a flight of steps. At each comer of the altar was set a huge standing lamp in the shape of a gold phallus, burning a heavily musk-scented oil, the red-gold flames leaping gently in the coolish night air, swirling about in their carved golden pans. From some hidden place the music of drum and reeds echoed forth.

Zenobia turned her head slightly, and was horrified to see that the altar was set in the very center of a small circular arena, and upon the steps of that arena were men and women, all nude. They were chatting amiably, quite oblivious to their nudity, not the least bit concerned, at least for the moment, with Zenobia. Their lack of interest gave her a chance to inspect her surroundings further. The temple was very simple in design, and obviously within the palace. The only decoration of any kind was a huge sun of pure beaten gold, its giant rays streaked with diamonds and rubies, that hung suspended over the altar.

Aurelian! His name rocketed through her brain with the memory of something he had once said to her. This had to be his doing, and his temple. A temple to the Unconquerable Sun! She was in a temple dedicated to the Unconquerable Sun, Aurelian's pet cult. He had on several occasions spoken to her of his cult, but she had ignored it, not being particularly interested. She still did not understand what it was he was up to, but she imagined she would soon know.

A short but clear trumpet note cut the air, and a deep, stentorian voice called, "Children of the Sun! The time draws near when the incarnation of the great and Unconquerable Sun god upon the earth will come among you to mate with she who is love. Harken, for the sacrifices are about to begin!"

At the instant the voice ceased, powerful and sultry drums began to beat with a sensuous rhythm and a dozen dancers, six males and six females, ran out upon the floor below the altar. The blond women-they were all really girls no more than thirteen or fourteen, Zenobia guessed-were exquisitely and perfecdy formed. The men-probably about eighteen-were equally beautiful, also fair-haired, and light-eyed. They were all-both male and female-gilded with beaten gold except for a single stripe of bare skin running up their spines; and they danced the most sensual and wanton dance Zenobia had ever seen; pantomiming the sex act in graphic abandon.

Suddenly one of the maidens broke from the others and fled partway up the steps. At once a young man, his sex rampant, leapt after her. For a moment they sparred upon the marble stairs, and then the man threw the girl down, flung himself atop her, and drove himself into her. There was a pitiful shriek, and the crowd moaned as one as the man withdrew from his victim, turning to face them, his penis bloody with the girl's virginity. "Ahh!" the spectators murmured, leaning forward, eyes glazed with their own lust, mouths open with pleasure, tongues quickly licking lips in undisguised pleasure. The male dancer turned back to the helpless girl, and pushing back into her continued to take his own pleasure as one by one the other gilded men caught and attacked the lovely gilded girls. Cries rent the air as each maiden parted publicly with her innocence to the frantic beat of the drums, while slightly above them the worshipers of the Unconquerable Sun avidly watched, the men now beginning to fondle themselves, nearby women, and in some cases even other men.

Zenobia was horrified by it all, terrified by the thought of whatever might be planned for her, and yet strangely inflamed within her own body. It was madness of the worst sort. Then as suddenly as the dancers had appeared they were gone, the men carrying the weeping women all in their arms. The stentorian voice again spoke.

"What greater sacrifice can a woman make than to offer herself and her innocence to the god? Now he who is the Sun incarnate on earth will mate with she who is love incarnate on earth. This night it is foretold that together they will create a son, a son who will rule the world in the name of the Unconquerable Sun!"

She was to be taken publicly! Zenobia struggled against the seemingly delicate golden chains, but they held firm. Then into her view came Aurelian. She recognized him by a scar upon his thigh, for he wore a carved golden mask. He stood tall, acknowledging the cries of homage that came from the frenzied worshipers. Several women broke from among the spectators and, running down the seat-steps, flung themselves at his feet. They unbound their hair and, writhing about Aurelian, began to rise up, some standing to caress and kiss him, one kneeling and taking his sex into her mouth to stimulate him, others remaining at his feet, licking and stroking at his legs. It was the worst kind of hysteria, Zenobia thought, and yet, to her own disgust she was aroused by it all. While the women worshiped him, Aurelian remained perfectly still until finally their attentions had the desired effect. Gently kicking them aside and pushing them away, he stood before Zenobia. With a swift motion he removed the golden mask, and dte finally saw his face, mocking, the eyes glazed with lust and drugs.

The altar upon which she was bound was shaped like an M, and her body had been placed so that her long legs were fastened on either side of the altar's top, a space between them. Now Aurelian stepped into that space and, kneeling, leaned forward to touch her with his tongue. Dear Venus! He couldn't do that to her here! Not in front of all of those leering people!

"See!" the disembodied voice cried. "See how he worships at the very shrine of love!"

The emperor's tongue stroked her flesh, sending small shivers of fire through her. No! she shrieked silently, for she could not seem to say it aloud. All she was able to do was moan with helpless desire as he probed her delicately, moving slowly, never hurrying her up the path of pleasure but prolonging the torture until finally a long wail escaped her straining throat, and the crowd began to chant: "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Aurelian lifted his head from between her legs and, looking at her, smiled a triumphant smile. Without a word he mounted her, and slowly, very slowly, pushed himself into her; withdrawing as slowly; entering again, withdrawing again, in an unbearable rhythm that would shortly drive her to madness if he didn't satisfy her. "Please!" she managed to moan through now dry lips, hating herself even as she whimpered the word.

"Please what, goddess?"

"Please!" Her eyes pleaded with him.

"Say the word, goddess. Say it, and I will make it good!"

"No!"

He laughed at her defiance, withdrew his lance from her and laid it, wet and throbbing, upon the sweet mound of her belly. "I am filled with special drugs and aphrodisiacs, goddess. When I have finished with you I will take a dozen women before I am satisfied this night. I can wait. Can you?" He punctuated his question by rubbing his organ against her in a provocative manner.

All around her, to the right, to the left, and above, the other worshipers chanted as Aurelian leaned forward to lick at her breasts, which strained to be touched by his talented tongue. "Please!" she whispered again. "Please!"

"Tell me what you want me to do to you, goddess. Tell me, and I will do it!"

"No!" She struggled to defy him.

The worshipers began to grow restless above them, and their chanting took on a harsh sound. He would lose them if he could not force her, and so, leaning forward, Aurelian took one of her nipples in his mouth and brutally bit it. She screamed with the pain, and the crowd's attention was once more engaged, they groaned together. "Say it, goddess!" he commanded her through gritted teeth.

For a moment incredible hatred blazed from her drugged eyes, and then she whimpered at him, "Fuck me, Roman! Fuck me before I die!"

He rammed himself deep into her, making her cry out again, moving in and out of her with incredible swiftness as around them the other worshipers fell upon each other, men with women, women with women, men with men, in a frenzied orgy of sensual abandon. Mercifully Zenobia fainted, blotting the rest of the horror from her consciousness.

When she once more came to her senses she was surprised to find herself in her bedroom back in Tivoli. Next to her old Bab nodded, and Zenobia struggled to call to her through cracked lips, "Bab!" Instantly the faithful servant was awake.

"My baby!" she cried. "You are awake at last!"

"How long has it been?" Zenobia demanded. Her head was pounding.

"The emperor brought you back four days ago. He said you grew ill in Rome, but you have had no fever or other signs of illness. You have been unconscious all that time, and we could not rouse you. What happened?"

"I cannot discuss it, Bab. Do not ask! Where is the emperor?"

"I will fetch him. He asked to be called when you awoke." She hurried off, to return a few minutes later with Aurelian, who looked as cool, elegant, and calm as always.

"Leave us, Bab!"

Bab departed swiftly, closing the door behind her with a resounding bang.

"What happened to me?" Her voice was icy with anger.

"Do you not remember, goddess?" His eyes mocked her.

"I did not dream it?"

"I hope not, goddess. We were both incredible, so incredible that donations to the temple the other night reached an unprecedented high."

"You are loathsome!"

"When I had finished with you," he went on, "I took fifteen more women. The gods! How they fought and pleaded to be taken by me. They did everything, anything I desired. I was invincible!"

"You are disgusting, Roman! You defile the gods by your obscene worship of this Unconquerable Sun of yours!"

"You are now pregnant with my child," he said, ignoring her anger.

She started at him in shock, then said, "You have never in all your years with your wife or your other women fathered a child. What in the name of all the gods makes you think you have fathered one on me now?"

"Because it is foretold in the writings of the Unconquerable Sun that he who is the god upon the earth will father a son upon she who is the goddess upon the earth. From the moment I saw you I knew that you were she who is the goddess upon the earth. Why do you think I have spared you, Zenobia? Why have I always called you goddess? You are Venus reborn, my fair one, and from your womb will spring forth a mighty ruler! Were it not so then the other night when I finished with you, you would have offered yourself to the others as I offered myself. You, however, are the goddess, and my seed could not be defiled. So sure am I that you have conceived that in the few weeks I remain in Rome before my next campaign I will not come to you. I will not touch you lest I injure the babe."

"I am to remain in Tivoli again while you are away?" she queried.

"Of course! I do not want either you or the child endangered, goddess. You will stay here in Tivoli. Surely Ulpia cannot last much longer, and when I return I will wed with you. If the child is already born, I will legitimize him."

She could scarcely believe her good fortune. She had looked forward with dread to a month of his insatiable passion, and now he was telling her she was free. Zenobia was careful not to let her joy show. Composing her face, she raised her eyes to him. "I did not like what you did to me the other night, Roman, but I have been without you for several months. Now you say we are not to be together while you are here in Rome." Her lips arranged themselves in a pretty pout.

He smiled at her. "I am pleased that you shall miss my loving attentions, goddess; but I will take no chances with you."

"You are not bored with me? This is not simply an excuse because you have found another?" Her voice sounded delightfully suspicious in his ear.

"How could there be anyone after you, goddess?" he demanded. "No, I adore you as always! There is no other!" No others that mattered, he thought, pleased.

"You cannot be sure that I am with child, Roman. It is much too soon to know."

"Nevertheless, I will take no risks, Zenobia. I am returning to Rome today, and I will not be back again until just before we march. I have a great deal to do, goddess, and a very short time in which to do it. You must accept my decision. It is for the best."

"Very well, Roman, it will be as you say. I see that you cannot be moved."

Aurelian leaned forward and cupped her chin in his hand while his mouth found hers. His kiss was a possessive one, a demanding one, and remembering the other night, she shuddered. He was a ruthless man. Releasing her from the kiss, he said softly, "I understand that your neighbor is Dagian, the wife of the late Lucius Alexander."

"Yes," Zenobia replied, choosing her words carefully. "She is a pleasant and amusing woman, and she enjoys Mavia greatly."

"And have you seen her son, goddess?" She could hear the dangerous undertone in his voice.

"Yes, Roman. I have seen him several times in his mother's gardens." She must be careful not to lie lest he suspect her.

"You have spoken to him?"

"On at least two occasions," she said, certain now that someone, an imperial spy undoubtedly, had seen them, and reported it to Aurelian.

"And?"

"And what, Roman?" She laughed lightly. "You aren't jealous, are you, Caesar?" Leaning over, she kissed him teasingly. "I do not know now what I ever saw in Marcus Alexander. He is really a very dull, pompous man."

"Then you love me alone?"

"I told you, Roman, that it was doubtful that I should ever love again; but what could Marcus Alexander offer me, pray? You offer me an empire, and I should be a fool to refuse you. Especially since I am to bear your child."

He looked long and searchingly into her face and then, certain that she spoke the truth, admitted ruefully, "I knew that eventually you would see Marcus Alexander again, and I was jealous. I love you, goddess! You are my very life now!"

"I have never given you reason to doubt me, Roman," she answered him, thinking, somewhat amused: But only because I have been careful, and not been caught!

He rose from the bedside. "I must leave you now, goddess, but I will return before we march."

She smiled up at him, and watched through narrowed eyes as he left her bedchamber. I shall only have to see you one more time, Roman, she thought; and at least I am free now of your eternal pawing.

A few minutes later both Bab and Adria entered her bedchamber, and Zenobia demanded, "Is he gone?"

"He is on the road to Rome as we speak, Majesty," Adria said.

Zenobia turned to Bab. "Go to Marcus, and tell him that I am all right. Then tell him that there is an imperial spy in one of our houses. He is not to come to me until after the emperor has left Rome. If he protests, Bab, then you must tell him that Aurelian asked me if I had spoken to him, and I said yes, for I was certain he knew I had. We are watched, and must take no chances. Dagian will carry messages for us, but I will not endanger either of us when we are so close to escape. Tell him, Bab, that I love him."

"Do not fear, my baby," Bab soothed. "Marcus Alexander Britainus values you above all things. He will understand."

Zenobia prayed it was so.

As the days went by Dagian spoke of her son only once, and that was to tell Zenobia that Marcus was seeing to their departure. The Palmyran queen began to grow curious, and she plied Dagian with many questions.

"What is it like, this Britain of yours?" was her first.

"Ah," Dagian said, a smile lighting her face, "it is very different from your Palmyra, and from Italy. It is an island nation, a land of many contrasts. One day may be sunny, the skies bright blue and cloudless; the next day may be misty, cloudy, filled with rain. The winters can be harsh, with much snow, but the springs make up for all the gray, cold days. There are no deserts as in your land, Zenobia. The only sandy places are by the sea. Britain is a land of hills and valleys, of mountains and fields. The Romans do not control as much of it as they like to think, for the tribes are very fierce and some bloodthirsty."

Zenobia looked troubled. "You make it sound quite savage, Dagian. Is this place that Marcus would take me safe for my children, my children's children? I have only just received word that Flavia was delivered of a little girl in Cyrene. Will your Britain be a safe place for such a tender baby?"

"Dearest girl, is any place in this world safe for children? Somehow they survive. The place that Marcus intends that you settle in is an island, one of several, off the very tip of Britain in the south. You need have no fear, Zenobia. Long ago, so far back that there is no written date, a small Celtic tribe lived upon the island, but today it is uninhabited. The island is a lovely place, as I remember it, its climate mild even in the winter months. Flowers and fruits and vegetables grow year round upon it; and you will be able to raise sheep and cattle. The seas are full of fish, and everything should thrive including your family."

"Will you come with us, Dagian?"

"No, my dear. I have long planned on living with Aulus and his family in the region of my birth and girlhood. I will come to visit you, though, as long as the gods give me good health."

Zenobia felt reassured, but now she worried about Vaba and his family. Marcus had promised her that he would take care of them, but how could he, prisoner here in Tivoli that he was? Again Dagian was able to reassure her. "Marcus has been freed of all travel restrictions, as have I," the older woman said one day. "We are to return to our own house in Rome within the week."

"I cannot bear to be without you," Zenobia cried. "Curse Aure-lian! He says he is no longer fearful of Marcus, but he is. You are the only friend I have, and I need you!"

"Courage, Zenobia!" Dagian chided gently. "Our return to Rome reassures Aurelian that you truly no longer want Marcus. If you complain to him he will be suspicious. In another week or two the army marches, and with it goes the emperor. You will be free then, my daughter." She put her arms around Zenobia, cradling her against her ample bosom.

"I am so afraid," Zenobia admitted, suddenly weeping. "I fear that Aurelian will find us out, and prevent Marcus and me from being together. We have waited so long, Dagian, so very long!"

"You were meant to be together," Dagian soothed. "Do not fear, my daughter. Prudence will prevent the emperor from knowing our plans. The gods will see to it."

"The gods are capricious," Zenobia whispered.

"Hush, my daughter!" Dagian looked fearfully about her as if she might see an angry god.

Then as suddenly as she had been fearful, Zenobia became calm again. "You are right, Dagian, and I am behaving like a child. We are so close to victory."

The two women embraced a final time, and then each went her separate way. A few days later the Alexanders, mother and son, left the imperial villa in Tivoli to return to their own home in Rome. Although Marcus Alexander had sold the great trading house that had been his father's, he still had many contacts among the important commercial families. Among them was the son of one of the wealthy Palmyran families slain in the destruction of that city. With Palmyra's fall, the young man had found himself alone and without a market for his goods. He might have gone bankrupt had not Marcus Alexander stepped in and come to his aid. Marcus called in the debt owed, and the young Palmyran was eager to help. Ogga ben Yorkhai was his name, and he had friends in Cyrene with whom he was in constant contact. Now he dispatched his pigeon messengers to that city, and within ten days came word that Vaballathus preferred to remain in imperial captivity than to brave the dangers of escape with his wife and infant daughter.

Marcus knew how disappointed Zenobia would be, but in truth he was relieved. The young man would always remember what he had lost, always unconsciously blame his mother, and between them there would never be any real peace.

A happier note, however, was word that Vaba's brother had been found alive in the ruins of Palmyra by the Bedawi. There had been some half-dozen survivors of the massacre, a woman, four children, and Demi, all of whom had been left for dead. The tribesmen had taken them back to their encampment, and although one of the children had died several days later, the rest had survived. Demi knew that his brother now resided in Cyrene, and that his mother was in Rome. He preferred, he wrote to Vaba, to remain with their uncle Akbar and the Bedawi. If he could not live in Palmyra, now destroyed, he preferred to roam the desert as his ancestors had done. He already had his eye on a strong young girl of fourteen to take to wife once he could earn her bridesprice.

So, Marcus thought as he read the letter from Cyrene, we will start anew, just Zenobia and our daughter and me. We will shed our old lives as the lizard sheds its old skin.

The army's departure was scheduled for the following day. Marcus Alexander Britainus wondered if Aurelian would change his mind at the last moment, and attempt to take Zenobia with him. They had not seen or spoken to one another in over a month. Although his mother had assured him before they left Tivoli that all was well, even Dagian had not seen or communicated with Zenobia in the last few weeks. That afternoon Gaius Cicero came to see him, and Marcus welcomed his old friend warmly.

"Once more," Gaius smiled, "I must ask that you watch over my Clodia and our children while I am away. Clodia is increasing again. Another child I shall not see born," he said ruefully.

"Why do you not resign the army, Gaius? Your family is wealthy, and although your older brother is the heir there is time for you to make a name for yourself in politics. Surely you do not really believe that Aurelian has a long future as Rome's emperor?"

"This is my last campaign," Gaius admitted. "I must think of my family now. As to the emperor, I'll admit I do not know how much longer he can hold on. He is a fine general, a good administrator; but he lacks subtlety. He makes enemies too easily. Take this temple of the Unconquerable Sun of his. He has foresworn the old gods for this strange new religion, and the truth of the matter is it is a scandal.

"After this last triumph he held a fertility rite in his temple. He mated upon the high altar with Palmyra's queen, and then took fifteen more women before he was sated. I know several of the men who attend these rites. They do so for purely licentious reasons. They were extremely annoyed that they could not take the captive queen. Usually Aurelian, who calls himself the god on earth, allows his fellow worshipers to have a go at his woman when he has finished. This night, however, he would not. He claims that Zenobia is the goddess upon earth, and it was foretold that he should get a child upon her that night. He said he did not want his seed defiled by others.

"Just as well, if you ask me. They say that Zenobia fainted and could not be roused for several days from her stupor. Poor woman. She had taken a great deal from Aurelian, and this surely was the worst. The rumor is that he intends to make Palmyra's queen his empress when Ulpia Severina has died."

"Yes," Marcus said in a strangely calm voice. "I have heard that rumor." Keep calm, his inner self warned him. Gaius is your friend, but first he is loyal to Aurelian. Although there were many questions he wanted to ask, he instead changed the subject, pretending lack of interest in Zenobia and Aurelian. He could not be sure that Gaius did not spy for the emperor. "I shall most happily keep Clodia company, Gaius. She is a fine wife and mother in the old tradition, and you are fortunate to have her."

"Why don't you marry?" Gaius asked suddenly.

Marcus laughed. "Because there is no one I love, and I cannot settle for less. My brother will perpetuate our family name, and so there is no need for me to marry. Besides, I prefer my freedom."

"Yes, I have known a few men like you, Marcus," Gaius said. "Some men are like that." He rose. "I shall be on my way now. I thank you for your kindness to my wife and my children. My brother simply doesn't have time to bother with Clodia, and she does get lonely." The two men clasped hands in the traditional Roman salute, and then Gaius was gone, his quick, "Farewell," echoing and then dying.

Marcus sat down heavily once Gaius Cicero was gone, and his mind raced back to his friend's discussion of Aurelian's cult. The emperor had publicly taken Zenobia! Marcus shuddered with the horror of it. He wanted to strangle Aurelian, feel his thick neck beneath his fingers, watch as his face grew purple, as he gasped his last few breaths, as he died!

Feeling the violence welling up within him, he rose quickly and shut the library door. Then turning back into the room, he began systematically to destroy everything in it. Furiously he flung the furniture against the beautiful frescoed walls! Every piece of pottery was smashed, and only the book scrolls escaped destruction due to Dagian's timely entry into the library.

"Marcus!" She looked about her, horrified at the terrible disaster the room had become. "Marcus, what is it?"

Somehow through the red mists of his fury he heard her, and slowly his glazed eyes cleared. "It was either this or I would have killed him!" he said.

Dagian did not need to ask who. She simply inquired, "Why?"

He told her, and Dagian's eyes quickly filled with tears. "Poor Zenobia," she said softly, and then, "Marcus, you are not angry at Zenobia?"

"No, Mother, I am angry for her. Rome is truly a sewer, and none of us belongs here any longer. The gods only know how badly I want to take Zenobia from this place."

"You will have to wait until Aurelian has embarked from Brindisi, Marcus, and then it will be another week after he has left. We cannot at this late date take the chance of anyone discovering our plans. You must remain calm, my son."

"I know, Mother, but when I heard what he had done to my wife… The gods curse him! I hope he never returns to Rome. I hope they kill him!"

Aurelian, however, at that moment was far from dead. At Zenobia's villa in Tivoli, he held his beautiful captive within the circle of his arms and kissed her passionately. She forced herself to eagerly return his kisses, nibbling teasingly at his lips to further arouse his desires. His hands fondled her full breasts, taunting the nipples to hard peaks. "You are so beautiful," he murmured against her ear, and she purred against him in apparent satisfaction. "Do you know yet, goddess?" he asked her. "Can you be sure yet whether you carry my child?"

"It is much too soon, Caesar," she said, and then she lowered her eyes coyly. "I promise to send a message to you the moment I can be certain. These things cannot be rushed, Roman."

"I do not like leaving you, goddess, but I do not want you exposed to the rigors of travel in your condition."

"I understand, Caesar," she replied, "and I agree with you. 1 am not a maiden in the first flush of her womanhood. It is better this way."

"If only I could be sure!" He was so anxious, and for a brief moment Zenobia almost felt sorry for him. Then she remembered the rites, those unholy rites he had held within his Temple of the Unconquerable Sun, publicly shaming her.

"You were so virile and potent that night, Roman," she murmured wickedly. "Surely if it is written you cannot doubt the outcome?"

"No, no!" he answered, visibly upset lest his lack of faith cause the gods to turn upon him. "No, you are with child, I am certain!"

"Then kiss me again, Aurelian, and be on your way, for the sooner you leave me the sooner you will return to me-and to our child." She looked him straight in the face now, her silvery-gray eyes dancing with their haunting golden lights. Never had he seen her so beautiful, he thought. Swiftly his mouth descended on her, possessing her lips fiercely, but she would not be subdued, and kissed him as fiercely in return. He was strangely breathless when they parted.

"The gods go with you, Roman," she said.

He could do nothing but leave her now, but he did so feeling strangely dissatisfied. Climbing into his chariot, he turned to look at her once more, and the sight of Zenobia in her flaming red kalasiris, her long black hair blowing free in the afternoon breeze, her proud head held high, was a vision that remained with him. He raised his hand in a gesture of farewell, then slapped the reins upon his horses' rumps, and departed, his chariot wheels rumbling up the drive and onto the Via Flaminia.

She also raised her hand in farewell, wondering if he could hear her laughter following him. "I will never see you again, Roman, and may my memory haunt you through all eternity!" she cried softly, and then she whirled around and re-entered her house.

The time went slowly, the days long and dull, the nights longer and lonely. The only relief for Zenobia during this period was her monthly show of blood. She had never truly believed that the emperor could father a child upon her when he had never before sired one; but the insanity of the Temple of the Unconquerable Sun had left her shaken.

The Praetorian guards about her villa were removed at her request to the senate through Claudius Tacitus.

"I have no wish to cause the government undue expense on my behalf when it is not really necessary," she told him. "It is enough that Rome houses me."

"Perhaps," Tacitus said, "it may soon be possible for you to have your complete freedom, my dear. The senate, however, needs certain assurances." His kindly old face was bland with detachment.

"What assurances?" she demanded.

"The emperor made some rather interesting statements concerning your condition prior to his departure; and there was some gossip about fertility rites in his Temple of the Unconquerable Sun several weeks back."

"If you are referring, Tacitus, to the night in which I was drugged and then raped by the emperor upon the high altar of his temple, then allow me to assure you that nothing came of that night other than my acute sense of shame. Aurelian chose to believe that I was carrying his child before he departed. I chose to allow him to believe it so I might be spared the boredom of accompanying him to Byzantium. If the senate does not believe me then let them question my women, or call a physician in to examine me. I am not with child."

"Do you love Aurelian?" Tacitus asked bluntly.

"No," she replied in kind. "I am his captive, and that is all I have ever been."

"He believes that you love him."

"He also believes that I am the goddess Venus incarnate, but I am not, Tacitus." She looked shrewdly at him. "You have all but said aloud that there is a plot against Aurelian. I care not! Why should I? Aurelian has taken everything that I ever held dear from me. My sons are gone from me, my people, my city! All I have left is my daughter, and all I want is to be left alone in peace to raise her. You may tell the senate that, Tacitus! I simply wish to be left to myself!"

"Your reputation was not a lie, Zenobia of Palmyra. You are indeed a wise woman," Tacitus replied, and then he bid her farewell and withdrew from her.

When he had gone Zenobia called for parchment andher writing materials, and quickly wrote a note to Dagian. The note was then taken immediately to Rome by a Tiro, a young slave of Zenobia's. He was a skilled chariot driver, who had been injured in the arena. No longer any good for competition, he had been sold by his master, but he could still drive skillfully enough for the road. She had purchased him, given him a lovely slave girl as a wife, and now Tiro would have died for his mistress.

When Tiro returned after dark that night Marcus Alexander Britainus was with him, muffled in a dark cloak as he slipped into the villa and made his way to Zenobia's bedchamber. Adria gave a small shriek as the large, black figure entered the room without warning; but Marcus flung the long cape off, and Adria sighed, "Oh, master, you gave me such a fright!"

Marcus chuckled deeply. "Did you think I was Aurelian returned?"

Adria made a face that caused Marcus to laugh aloud. "That one," Adria sniffed. "Praise the gods we shall not have to put up with him again, master."

"You sound more like old Bab every day," he teased her.

"Then the girl is finally getting some sense, which is more than I can say for you, Marcus Alexander Britainus! Are you mad to come calling, and the emperor not gone from the country yet?" Bab stood glaring at him, hands upon her plump hips.

"Aurelian sailed two days ago, old woman; and besides, it was your beautiful mistress who summoned me here. Where is she?"

"Here, my love!" Zenobia stood in the doorway of her bedchamber. "I was in the gardens walking-and dreaming. Find your beds, Bab, Adria."

The two servants scurried out, and waiting until they were just gone, Zenobia threw herself into her husband's arms, raising her face up for a kiss. He stared down at her for a moment, his fingers gently caressing her cheekbones, and then his mouth descended to meet her eager lips. Her heart leapt wildly within her chest, threatening, she was certain, to burst through her skin. He kissed her softly at first, and then as his mouth grew more certain of possession, he demanded surrender, total surrender of her. She joyously gave him that surrender, wrapping her smooth arms about his neck, pressing herself as close to him as she could.

"You are mine now!" and she could hear the triumph in his voice.

"I am yours now and forever!" she answered him, her eyes shining up into his with so much love that he felt humble.

Unable to resist her, he kissed her gently once more, and then he led her to their bed where they sat down so they might speak.

"Aurelian is gone, Zenobia. Two days ago from Brindisi, according to reports received this morning in Rome. The news came by pigeon, and was welcomed by the senate."

'Tacitus came to visit me this morning," Zenobia said excitedly. "I had requested the senate to withdraw the Praetorian guards from the villa."

"On what excuse?" he asked.

"I said I wished to live quietly, and not cause the government unnecessary expense."

Marcus laughed loudly. "Indeed, my love, you certainly must have caught their attention with that excuse."

"He practically admitted a plot against Aurelian. This emperor will not, I wager, return from Byzantium alive."

"How can you be sure, beloved? Tell me exactly what Tacitus said to you."

"I do not doubt that you have heard the rumors, Marcus, of what happened to me in Aurelian's temple," she said slowly.

"I have heard," he said tersely, his face suddenly dark and grim with anger.

"It was not my fault," she whispered, afraid.

He drew a deep breath, and then took her onto his lap to comfort her. "I know that, Zenobia, but I cannot help but be angry about it. I am not angry with you, but at the situation. I am not one of these new Christians who can turn the other cheek. My wife, the woman whom I prize above all others, was taken publicly in a fertility rite! The mere thought maddens me!"

"It was the most horrifying experience of my life, Marcus, and I have lived through much. I was drugged just enough to make me helpless, but not enough to render me unconscious. I was bound upon their high altar for all to see, and all about me those unholy people chanted for Aurelian to take me."

She sighed deeply, sadly, then said, "At least one good thing came of it. Aurelian was so certain that he had impregnated me that he never came near me after that."

He groaned, pained. "How many times have you been helpless, and I not able to defend you, beloved? Never again! I swear by all the gods it shall never happen again! Now you are in my keeping, Zenobia, and I will protect you always."

"And I will protect you, my love. Alone we seem but half a person; only together are we whole."

He was comforted by her words, for he seemed to need the comfort more than she. She smiled with the thought that where she was weak he was strong, but where he was weak she was strong. After a long moment Marcus spoke again, saying, 'Tell me what else Tacitus said."

"He said that the senate needed reassurances, which, I realized, meant that they wished to know if I was indeed pregnant as Aurelian kept insisting. He said that, given those assurances, I might be granted my freedom entirely. I, of course, told him I am not pregnant. I offered my women to the senate for questioning, and myself for examination by a physician of the senate's choice.

"Why would they want such knowledge if they were not planning to assassinate Aurelian? They would kill me as quickly as Aurelian if they thought there was any chance I was bearing his child. Since he has no other heirs, and poor Ulpia will shortly be dead herself, they seek to tie up all the loose ends. I wonder who will be the next emperor? Are there any generals who stand out in your mind?"

"None," he answered her.

"Then why kill Aurelian? Why-without someone else to take his place-destabilize the government?"

"Aurelian has offended enough men," Marcus explained, "that it matters not to them what happens to the government as long as their own interests are protected. And rest assured, my love, the interests of the conspirators will be safe. The powerful will find a new emperor. And when he offends them…" Marcus made a slicing motion across his throat with his finger.

"Then surely the time is right for us to flee, my love! Now, while they are involved with their plots."

"Yes, beloved, it is time for us to flee. I have spent these last days planning our escape. I have bought a ship, Zenobia, a Roman merchantman, only two years old. If we are to live on an island we shall need transportation between our new home and the mainland."

"A merchantman? Then you mean to trade?"

"I am not a farmer or a herdsman, beloved."

"Will you leave me then in this strange land that you are taking me to, Marcus. Leave me to pursue your business?"

"No, beloved, I will never leave you again, but my ship will trade for me, and I will have an interest."

She squirmed about in his lap, and looked up at him. "What will I do?" she wondered aloud. "I am a queen without a kingdom, a general without an army. What on earth am I to do, Marcus?"

"You will be a good Roman wife, beloved," he answered, and Zenobia laughed.

"No, Marcus, I should be bored to death. For me there must be something else. Perhaps I shall make this island of ours the new kingdom over which I reign. I must think on it."

"You think too much," he chuckled, falling back upon the bed, still clutching her within his arms. "Come, and be my good Roman wife," he teased, repositioning her to lie in the curve of his arm beneath him as if she were a child's toy. "I think that you should begin by kissing me, wife," and he lowered his head to brush her lips with his own. "My wife," he murmured against her mouth. "My beautiful wife, my sweet wife, my adorable wife."

Her smile was deceptively sweet. "I have only been upon the sea once, when Aurelian brought me from Macedonia to Brindisi. I liked it, and I believe that I shall learn to navigate this ship of yours. One may use the stars in the heavens upon the sea as easily as upon the desert."

He grinned down at her. "Had I wanted to marry a sailor…" He waggled his eyebrows wickedly at her so that she giggled. "I wanted a woman, beloved, and I married woman incarnate." His hand drew her robe open to bare her beautiful breasts to him, and he leaned forward to brush them with his rough cheek. Her scent arose from the warmth of her lovely body to taunt and assail him. "Oh, Zenobia," he said softly, and she reached out to draw him against her breasts.

They lay together in tender embrace, enjoying the simple pleasure of being together without fear of discovery. She threaded her fingers through his thick chestnut-colored hair, noticing a silver strand here and there. Suddenly she realized that he had fallen asleep upon her breasts, and again she chuckled as she shifted to cradle him more comfortably. There had never before been a time when he hadn't made love to her. Their separation had taken its toll on him, for he was obviously exhausted.

When morning came and he awoke, Marcus was much chagrined. "You were so tired, my darling," an amused Zenobia comforted him.

"But I wanted you!" he protested.

Zenobia laughed. "And I wanted you," she said, "but you were tired and you fell asleep." Then she roused him up, for it was necessary that he return to the city that morning. "When are we to leave?" she asked as she helped him to dress in his freshened clothes.

"We will sail from Ostia in three days' time," he answered.

"Are we to sail the entire way, my darling?" She looked a little nervous.

"I would like to, Zenobia, as there is less chance of our being caught; but the sea is so dangerous. We will follow the coast closely as far as Massilia. From Massilia we will take the tin route up across Gaul to the coast facing Britain. It is a very small piece of water, beloved. The ship will meet us there, having gone through the Pillars of Hercules out into the great sea, and around the coast of Gaul. Our ship will then take us across to Britain."

"Not to our own home?"

"No. First we must take my mother to Aulus and his family. Only then can we seek our own place, Zenobia. Besides, I think it is only polite that I ask Aulus for his island before we take it over." His deep-blue eyes were twinkling at her.

She laughed. "How the times have changed, my darling. I pray your brother will be generous."

"He is a good man, Zenobia."

"You must take some of the slaves with you today," she said. "I cannot leave Tivoli discreetly with a large train."

"How many people do you have?"

"You need not worry about the women," Zenobia said. "They can come with me when I go to Rome to meet you, but you must take Tiro, my charioteer, and Otho the gardener. They are the only men with me, and I prefer they go with you today."

"Very well," he answered. "How many women do you have besides old Bab, Adria, and Charmian?"

"Just two slave girls for cleaning, and Lenis, the cook, who is Tiro's wife."

"You'll attract no attention with so small a retinue," he said. "Have your women pack most of your goods and send them with Tiro and Otho to my house in Rome. Then you may travel easily and in comfort."

He left her to return to Rome, and Zenobia spent the rest of her day overseeing the packing. By nightfall all was in readiness. She had instructed both Tiro and Otho that they were to leave before morning in order to be through the town before everyone was up.

In the hour before the dawn she awakened and heard the carts lumbering from the villa courtyard. With a sigh of relief Zenobia turned over and went back to sleep. She was awakened some time later by old Bab, who shook her frantically.

"Wake up, my baby! Wake up!"

"What is it, Bab?" It was a monumental effort to keep her eyes open.

"Gaius Cicero is here, and he is demanding to see you. You must get up and receive him!"

Instantly Zenobia was awake, her mind racing with curiosity. Gaius Cicero was Aurelian's personal aide as well as the emperor's favorite. He had gone with his master to Byzantium. What was he doing back in Tivoli? Was Aurelian in Rome? Had he learned of the plot against him? She rose from her bed, her body gleaming through her sleeping robe. "Get me a tunic, old woman. Where is Gaius Cicero now?"

"He waits in the atrium, my baby," Bab replied, pulling a light white wool tunica over Zenobia and belting it with a length of red leather. "Adria! The sandals, quickly!"

Zenobia slid her feet into her sandals, and hurried from her bedchamber, down the stairs of the house, and into the atrium. There, she saw Gaius Cicero pacing. "Greetings, Gaius Cicero," she called to him, "I thought you with the emperor."

"I was, Majesty. He has sent me back for you."

"What?" She was astounded.

"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 been 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.

She hoped that having spilled his seed upon the straw he would be unable to continue, but Hostilius did not even appear to notice what had happened, and reached out to touch her breasts. Zenobia shrank from him, her back making contact with the wet, cold stones of the cell wall. His fleshy fingers began to brush the warmth of her skin, slowly at first, and then as his lust caught up with him, he grasped her breasts in his two hands and squeezed fiercely. making her wince with pain, leaving marks upon her pale golden flesh. With a moan he pressed up close against her. his head swiveling swiftly to find a nipple and then suck it deep within his mouth.

He drew insistently upon her breast, like a hungry child, his mouth ferocious and demanding. She was totally repelled by him, and struggled to twist her body away from him, but he merely grasped her hips to hold her still while he continued his obscene parody. Having wrung all he could from one breast, his balding head moved to the other.

"You are disgusting!" she said. "You are totally repellent to me! Can you not function normally with a woman? Must you force them in order to obtain satisfaction?"

In answer he bit down upon her breast, and she cried out in pain, her arms jerking instinctively to strike him. His hands moved around behind her, crushing her buttocks in a brutal grip. She tried to retaliate, drawing her knees up, and then kicking out at him. Her numbed feet made contact with his soft middle, and Hostilius staggered back from Zenobia with an "offff!" sound. Regaining his balance, he came at her, the little dog whip flying, cutting into her tender thighs and belly, making her cry out in pain again. Still she taunted him, "Monster! Slithering reptile! Free me, and then attempt your rape! You are not man enough!"

"You will see how masculine I am, bitch," he snarled at her, "when I fuck you! You will beg me to continue! To never stop!" The little whip slashed at her again and again, and she was bleeding from several small cuts on her legs and stomach.

Zenobia was more angry than frightened now, and she continued to mock him. "You are a pig, Hostilius! You have already spilled your seed in your lust, and I do not believe that you can replenish it! It is probably the first time in months that you were able to rise to the occasion!"

"I think," he said menacingly, "that I shall share you with the jailor."

She laughed scornfully. "Must you see another man rape me before you are able to function, Hostilius!?"

Valerian Hostilius grew beet red, and then a very evil look came into his eyes. He smiled nastily at her, and said, "I know just how to still your vicious tongue." The dog whip flicked out at her nipple, and she winced, suddenly unnerved by his manner. He walked to the door and pounded upon it. Almost instantly the entry creaked open and the jailor entered, his eyes darting to Zenobia, his own craving evident. Hostilius smiled again. "I need help with this recalcitrant bitch, jailor. Aid me, and she is yours when I have finished. When I am through with her she will be all cozy and obedient, I promise you."

The jailor licked his lips, and whined, "What if she tells, noble Senator? I have not your rank to protect me."

Hostilius laughed. "Do you dunk this proud bitch will admit to having been humped by a piece of vermin like you? Don't be ridiculous! Help me, now!"

"What do you want me to do, noble Senator?"

"I'm taking her down, and I want you to restrain her across your knees. I have a fancy to beat her bottom for a bit." Hostilius unlocked the iron manacles from Zenobia's wrists, and once again her feet made contact with the floor. "Don't help him, good jailor!" she cried out. "I will say he sneaked into the cell when you weren't looking, and that unknowingly you locked him in here with me. I will claim you found him when my cries alerted you! Good jailor, I am a most important imperial captive!"

Hostilius dealt Zenobia a staggering blow to the side of her head. "Pay no attention to the bitch! She is no one!" The whip descended upon her tender flesh, forcing a cry through her clenched teem.

"Have you ever taken a woman like one takes a boy," Hostilius demanded of the jailor, and then he laughed. "Yes, yes, I can see you have! Well, I am going to take her like that now! Lay her flat, jailor! I imagine that she is quite ready for me now-aren't you, Zenobia?"

The jailor laid her face down in the straw, and then she felt Hostilius climbing upon her buttocks. The jailor held her arms down stretched above her head so she might not struggle. The gods! she thought. Dogs mate this way, but people don't! She felt his fingers beginning to separate the halves of her bottom, felt something slimy trying to push at her, and suddenly she screamed as loud as she could. "Nooo! Nooooooo!"

There was a roar of outrage from the doorway of the cell, her arms were suddenly loosened, and she felt Hostilius's weight yanked off of her. The jailor was already babbling hysterically, "I only did what he told me! I am a poor man, sir! Don't kill me!"

"Let him go, Marcus," she heard Gaius Cicero say, and then Marcus's voice replied, "Run for your miserable life, man, before I regret my merciful intent."

She ached all over, but she was too weak to rise. She could only lie there, face down in the straw, listening as her husband said coldly, "You're a dead man, Valerian Hostilius!" And then there was a strange sound, a wheezing sigh, and the thump of a body hitting the floor. She didn't need to be told that the senator was dead.

She fainted with relief.

Returning to consciousness, she was totally confused as to where she was. As her eyes slowly focused she became aware of movement, of the fact that she ached terribly, the very fabric of her tunic scratching initatingly against her skin. She was dressed! She was in a litter! She was in Marcus's arms! She was safe!

"Marcus!" she whispered eagerly through cracked lips.

"Beloved!" His face swam into view, growing clearer with each moment.

"Praise the gods you came in time," she said softly. "He was going to-"

"I know what the swine was going to do," he said grimly.

"Gaius went to you?"

"Yes. They only held him long enough to be certain there was no counterplot. He has already sworn his fealty to the senate, and will be safe from harm no matter what happens to Aurelian."

"I am free?"

"Yes. The physician Celsus wasted no time in reporting to Senator Tacitus that you were not carrying Aurelian's child; and the order had already been given that you be released. Hostilius knew that it would be."

"Is he dead, Marcus?"

"Yes. I slit his fat throat!"

"We will go tomorrow?"

"Yes. I have requested permission in my mother's name to take you to the seaside to recuperate. Tacitus signed the order himself. I think he suspects that it is not my mother who wants to take you to the seaside. We could not get through the city gates to the port, however, without a pass from the senate. You are still an imperial captive."

"Are you taking me home?"

"Yes, my beloved. I am taking you home."

Her eyes closed again, and when she next awoke she was tucked into a comfortable bed within a house. She was stripped of her garments, but her wounds had been washed and dressed with a sweet-smelling unguent. The coverlet of the bed had been raised somehow, and although it sheltered her, it did not touch her sensitive skin. She sighed with relief, and instantly Dagian was at her side.

"My dearest daughter, praise Mother Juno that you are safe!" Her blue eyes were wet with tears.

"What time is it?"

"Almost dawn," came the reply.

"Have you watched by my bedside all night, Dagian?"

"Only the last hour, my dear. Marcus has been with you all night."

"I am all right," Zenobia reassured Dagian, "just somewhat sore. Marcus should not have sat up all night, especially when we must leave this day."

"We will not leave until the afternoon, Zenobia, and Marcus has changed our plans slightly. When he returned with you late yesterday he sent word to his captain to take his ship from the old harbor at Ostia and move it to the new harbor at Portus. Rather than ride to the coast we are going to go by barge down the Tiber, and through the Claudian canal directly into the Portus harbor. It will be far more comfortable for you, my dear. Our household goods left here yesterday at dawn, and will be awaiting us tomorrow aboard the ship. A rider went after them late yesterday to tell them of the change in plans."

"Then we sail tomorrow?"

"On the first tide after we arrive, my dear."

"I shall not be sorry to say good-bye to Italy, Dagian, as much as I fear your Britain."

"Fear Britain? Why should you fear my homeland?" Dagian was astounded.

"From what Marcus has told me over the years, Dagian, your land is a wild and fierce one."

"From what Marcus has told me, Zenobia, your homeland is a wild and fierce one," Dagian replied with a smile. "I think, my dear daughter, that it is merely a matter of familiarity. Britain seems frightening to you because you have never been there. Besides, I doubt that you will ever see one of our warriors painted blue and driving his chariot in battle." Then she laughed at the startled look on Zenobia's face.

"Your warriors paint themselves blue?"

"Indeed they do," Dagian said, chuckling.

"Why?"

"Because, my dear, our warriors believe that if they fall in battle, their enemies may strip them only of their possessions, but never of their dignity as long as they are painted blue."

Zenobia thought a moment, and then to Dagian's surprise she nodded her head, and said thoughtfully, "Yes, I understand that."

What a strange thing, Dagian thought. I meant to tease her about our warriors, and instead I have calmed her fears. "Go back to sleep, Zenobia," she said. "We have a long journey ahead of us."

She slept again, awakening close to midday. Both Bab and Adria were with her now, and her soreness was almost gone. She stretched, yawning lazily, and Bab hurried over to the bed, her face concerned. "The lady Dagian has told me of your ordeal, my baby! Curse the Romans! They are evil people!"

"My husband is a Roman, Bab."

"No, he is not!" was the quick reply. "Perhaps his father was, but Marcus Alexander Britainus is like his mother."

Zenobia laughed. "You have settled it in your mind, I can see. Very well, I shall not argue with you, old friend. However, I do wish to rise. Please see to my clothing."

While old Bab did as she was bid, Adria gently lifted the bed coverlet back, and helped Zenobia to get up. Her face flushed with embarrassment when she saw her mistress's body, and she turned away. Looking down, Zenobia gasped in shock. "Venus aid me!" she cried, for upon her breasts were distinct fingermarks, her lower torso was criss-crossed with narrow, raised red welts, and in a small table mirror she could see over her shoulder that her buttocks were badly bruised.

Turning around, Bab shrieked in horror and gaspingly clutched at her chest. "What have they done to you, my baby?!"

Zenobia was concerned less for herself than for the old lady who had so faithfully served her since childhood, and so she said, "It's all right, Bab. But do you know of some potion or unguent that will help me erase these bruises quickly?"

Diverted, the old woman thought a moment, and then said, "I will send one of the slaves to the apothecary's shop for what I need. Do not fear, my baby, I will have the mark of that beast gone as quickly as possible. What crassness to mark your lovely skin so! Why even the emperor never treated you thus!"

"No," Zenobia said, "he didn't," and she remembered Hostil-ius's remark about the difference in treatment among imperial captives.

Early in the afternoon they left the house of the Alexander family. They traveled to the barge landing by litter, the slaves and the servants walking along beside them. It was not a particularly large or impressive party, nothing that would attract attention. In addition to Adria, Bab, and Charmian, there were half a dozen Alexander family slaves. At the docks their papers were checked and approved by a centurion, for no one entered or exited the city without permission.

The barge was luxurious, but not overlarge. It had a sail that was now raised to catch the afternoon winds, and they began their trip downriver to the harbor at Portus.

The weather was fair and warm, but still they traveled, master and servants alike, in a state of nervous expectation. Neither Marcus nor Zenobia nor Dagian would feel entirely safe until they were at sea. When night fell slaves and family partook of a simple meal upon the open deck of the barge. It was a meal that they had supplied themselves, for the bargemaster was bound only to offer them passage and shelter to Portus.

When night fell the slaves settled themselves to sleep upon the open deck while the family and their personal servants sought shelter in the barge's cabin. There were but two bunks, and Dagian was settled in one, while Mavia and old Bab were put in the other.

Bab protested loudly. "No, no, my baby, it is not right that you sleep upon the floor while I rest in comfort."

"Peace, old woman!" Zenobia said. "Remember your years. In the last months you have been dragged from Palmyra to Rome, and now you undertake another long journey. I would have you comfortable so you will always be here to serve me. What, Bab, would I do without you?"

"I will be with you as long as the gods allow, and no longer," Bab said.

Marcus smiled warmly at the faithful old servant, and he put a kindly arm about her sturdy shoulders. "Britain will be lovelier, Bab, if your old bones do not ache. Sleep with Mavia, and argue no longer."

Bab looked adoringly up at him, a look that Zenobia had never seen her bestow before upon any man. "Yes, master," she said, "and I thank you for your kindness to me."

Adria and Charmian were settled, one beneath each bunk, and then Marcus and Zenobia returned outside to sit on the open deck. Above them, the warm spring night glistened with a million bright stars. The river gently caressed the flat bottom of the boat, and the wind teased at the loose tendrils of Zenobia's long, black hair as she faced downriver.

He stood behind her, his arms wrapped securely about her waist, drawing her firmly against him. For a long while they were silent, and she marveled that just his simple gesture of holding her could make her feel so marvelous, so loved, so cherished. She adored the hardness of his chest against her back, the softness of his breath against her hair.

"I am so glad that you love me," she said quietly.

He laughed softly. "At last we are together."

"Do not say it," she begged. "Not yet. Not until we have escaped the empire. Once we are free of Rome then I shall care not what happens as long as we are together, Marcus. I have loved you for so very long that I dare not believe in this happy ending quite yet."

"We are together, Zenobia, now and forever," he said with quiet assurance, "and we shall rebuild our lives on the edge of Britain, and rear our daughter in safety, and have a son to love and raise."

"I yet fear the motives of the gods," she said softly.

"Do not fear them, beloved, for you are their chosen, and have always been."

He turned her now, and his mouth touched hers with infinite gentleness, tasting as a bee tastes of precious nectar, caressing possessively, communicating his love of her, his need of her. With a sigh she returned the kiss, her lips parting for him, her arms wrapping about his neck to mold her lustiness against his hardness. His tongue darted through her lips and about her mouth, touching with wildfire the tip and sides of her tongue, the roof of her mouth, the corners of her mouth. The kiss deepened, growing more ardent, more possessive, stoking the passionate fires burning deep within them both. Zenobia shuddered with surrender, but with the sudden realization of where they were Marcus very gently broke off the embrace, still holding her close to him.

She laughed weakly, and said low, "Never has any man ever driven me to such passion, my darling. If only there were a place upon this ship of yours where we might be alone. I do not think I can bear being parted from you for much longer."

He chuckled, and replied, "You are a most tempting morsel, and I long to ravish you with my love; but for now I think it best we seek the arms of Morpheus, and sleep."

Re-entering the cabin, he spread his large cape upon the floor, and they lay down to sleep.

Two hours after the dawn they arrived in the bustling harbor town of Portus, having passed from the Tiber River through the Claudian Canal. At the dock they were met by the Alexander family retainers, and litters that carried them down to the waterfront where Marcus's ship awaited them.

It was a magnificent vessel, its dark wood sides polished to a glistening red-brown sheen. The stern of the ship was beautifully carved with scenes of leaping porpoises, ocean nymphs gamboling amid the waves, and delicate whorled shells, all exquisitely gilded with gold. The deck was of well-rubbed light-colored oak. The four light-blue sails-a square mainsail, the two triangular sails called lateen sails above the mainsail, and the small square sail at the bow called the artemon-were of the finest canvas. The vessel was one hundred eighty feet in length, and forty-five feet in width.

There were two rudders, one on either side of the stem. The helmsmen stood upon a small elevated deck that had on it the upper half of a swan, painted quite realistically and hollowed so that it might serve as a shelter for the captain of the vessel or one of the helmsmen when he was not at his steering oar.

On the main deck was the master's cabin, made up of two rooms, the larger front room an airy and light place where they would eat. Behind the main cabin and beneath the steering deck was set a smaller inside cabin, where Marcus and Zenobia would sleep in privacy.

Below decks was the enormous cargo hold and a place for the crew to sleep. Also below the decks would be all of the Alexander household slaves, but it would not be overly crowded, for the cargo space would be only half full with all the family's goods.

The merchantman, called a corbitae, was a round ship. It was sturdy and reliable, but could easily be caught by a faster bireme or trireme, Roman warships, which were not only sail-powered, but oar-powered. It was therefore important that the Alexander family cause no attention to be drawn to them. The captain had been ordered to file a course for Cyprus with the authorities, and only when they were under way would Marcus order that course changed. The fewer people involved in his secret the better.

Little Mavia was delighted with the ship, and promptly told everyone so. "What is it called, Mama?" she demanded of Zenobia, who turned to Marcus for help.

"It is called the Sea Nymph, my daughter," he answered her.

"I am not your daughter, am I?" Mavia asked innocently.

Marcus lifted the child up into his arms, and looked into the blue eyes so like his own. Gently he brushed the chestnut hair, also like his. "You are my own true child, and I love you," he answered her simply.

Mavia put her arms about his neck and kissed him upon the cheek. "I have always wanted a father," she said. "I am glad you are my papa."

It was as simple as that. From that time on, Mavia, the Princess of Palmyra, disappeared into the mists of time. There was only Mavia, the daughter of Marcus Alexander Britainus, and for Mavia, it was as if he had always been there. Although until this moment she had never called him Father, she would, when she grew older, never remember not having called him Father.

Zenobia's eyes were bright with unshed tears. "Thank you," she said to her husband, and Marcus understood.

"It was the right time," he told her.

Then, together, they went aboard the Sea Nymph to be warmly greeted by Captain Paulus. Charmian took Mavia off to see the ship, and the others settled themselves while Zenobia and Marcus spoke with the captain.

"The next tide is two hours after midday, sir," the captain said. "With your permission we can sail then."

"Is there a reason to stay longer, my love?" Marcus asked.

"No," she replied. "I am willing to sail this day."

"So be it then!" Marcus looked to the captain, who nodded his agreement.

"We've all our supplies aboard, and plenty of fresh water, sir. If you, my lady, need any extras you would be wise to purchase them now. I can have one of my men escort you to the harbor shops."

"I do not think that I lack for anything," Zenobia replied, "but I shall call my servants and visit the shops you suggest. Mayhap in the looking we will see something we need. Your escort will be most welcome."

Zenobia sought out Dagian and Adria, and the three women spent the next hour shopping in the company of two brawny sailors. As they returned to the Sea Nymph Zenobia's heart lurched as she saw a familiar figure standing upon the deck with her husband. The three women climbed the gangway, and while Adria hurried to store away their few purchases Dagian and Zenobia came forward to meet Marcus and his guest.

"Gaius Cicero, it is good to see you," Dagian said cordially.

The tribune bowed from the waist, and replied, "And as always, Lady Dagian, it is good to see you. You are well?"

"I am. How is Clodia? And your children?"

"They thrive."

There was a short awkward silence, and then Dagian said, "Come, Zenobia, let us see to Mavia."

"No." Marcus looked to his wife. "You go, Mother. I would like Zenobia to stay here with us for a few moments. You will keep Mavia occupied for us."

Dagian withdrew, and Zenobia looked at the two men. "Well," she said, "what is it? I can tell that all is not right."

"I have an order for your return to Rome, Majesty."

"Never!"

Both men were startled by the vehemence in her reply, and in an effort to calm her Marcus put a hand on her arm, but she shook it off angrily.

"I would the before I would return to Rome, Gaius Cicero. I am tired of wars, and I am tired of politics! My only wish now is to live my life in peace. If I cannot then take your sword and kill me, for I will not return to Rome!" She looked to her husband. "Have you told him?"

Marcus shook his head.

"Tell him!" she commanded.

'Tell me what?" Gaius Cicero looked puzzled.

"Zenobia and I have been married for two months now, Gaius. We have witnesses-my mother and Zenobia's two freedwomen."

"By the gods," the tribune said in a low voice, "you are leaving Italy!"

"We are."

"I cannot let you, Marcus. The senate must be informed of Queen Zenobia's marriage to you. They will, of course, set the marriage aside, for with a mate the queen becomes dangerous once more to Rome. I'm sorry, but I cannot let you go." He looked honestly regretful.

"You owe me!" Zenobia snarled, and suddenly she was once again all queen. She drew herself up to her full height, and looking Gaius Cicero directly in the eye, her gaze was proud. He remembered the first time he had seen her standing in ah her queenly array atop the walls of Palmyra, defying the mighty Roman Empire. "I warned you of Aurehan's impending fall so that your wife need not mourn your death, so that your children both born and unborn would not lose their father. Gaius Cicero, I gave you your life! Now give me mine!"

"Majesty, if it were my decision I would wish you Neptune's own luck wherever you went. But it is not my decision. I am only a servant of the empire, but I am a good servant. I will not betray my people."

"We do not ask you to betray Rome, Gaius," Marcus said quietly. "Zenobia and I have nothing to do with Rome. We are nothing more but a man and his wife trying to begin anew amid the ruins of our old lives. Palmyra is gone. It will never again arise from the destruction that Rome inflicted upon it. Its young king lives in exile with his family, its younger prince is lost in time. There is no longer a Queen of Palmyra, there is only Zenobia, the wife of Marcus Alexander, the mother, the woman. Let her go, Gaius."

During his impassioned speech Zenobia found herself pressing close to her husband. They were at last a family, she and Marcus and Mavia. This time when he put his arm around her, she melted back into the embrace with pride, for she was proud to be his wife.

Gaius Cicero looked at them, and knew in that instant that they would not be separated. He knew that they would die first, or that his old friend, Marcus Alexander Britainus, would even set their long friendship aside and slit his throat before he would let Gaius take her back to Rome. He didn't know why the senate had changed their minds, but, he reasoned, how important could it be? Aurelian's execution was a certainty, and Zenobia was fleeing the empire. He could see that she posed no danger.

"I came ahead of my soldiers," he said. "There is no one to know that I saw you. Who will contradict me when I say that your ship had already sailed when I reached Portus?"

"Thank you, my friend," Marcus said gratefully.

"What course do you set?"

"Cyprus," came the answer.

Gaius Cicero's face said that he did not believe for a minute that Cyprus was actually their destination. "I have no order to follow you," he said. "I shall ascertain your destination from the harbor master and return to Rome with my information." Then he smiled at them. "May the gods speed your journey, my friends, and bring you to safety."

The two men clasped arms in the old Roman fashion, then Gaius Cicero turned abruptly and left the ship, walking away into the bustle upon the dock.

Marcus turned and spoke to a nearby sailor. "Is everyone aboard?"

"Yes, sir!" was the reply.

"Then take the gangway up," the ship's owner commanded. Giving Zenobia a quick kiss on the forehead, he hurried off to find Captain Paulus. The captain was on the helmsman's deck. "I have ordered the gangway drawn up," Marcus told him. "Is not the tide turning now?"

"Yes, sir," was the reply. "I am just now giving orders to get underway."

"Change your course," Marcus said.

"Change my course? For where, sir?"

"For Massalia, Captain Paulus."

"If we are to catch this tide, sir, there is no time for me to inform the harbor master."

"That is indeed unfortunate, Captain Paulus," Marcus said thoughtfully, "for I do want to depart now."

"What harm can it do, sir," the captain replied. "We are only transporting our new owner, and his family, and their goods and chattel. It can be of little import to the mighty Roman Empire." So saying, the captain began to give orders, and the ship slowly got underway, taking its place amid the vessels catching this tide.

Marcus Alexander Britainus returned to the main deck below, and stood with Zenobia at the rail, watching the activity of the harbor as Sea Nymph's sails caught the afternoon wind and began to move gradually out into the open sea.

"I remember," he said, and he caught at her hand, "the day that we arrived here from Britain those long years ago. How different it was from my homeland. I never loved Rome the way I love Britain, nor did I love Rome the way I loved Palmyra." He sighed. "I wonder," he said, "if I shall still love Britain. It can be a harsh place, Zenobia. You are not used to chill weather, and Britain can be cold."

"You have told me that the climate is mild on the island where we shall make our home. You have told me that palm trees grow on our island. Palms cannot exist in a harsh climate. As long as the palms thrive, then so shall I, my love."

They had cleared the harbor, and as the Sea Nymph swept into the open sea Zenobia felt a small thrill of excitement. Strangely, the sea did not frighten her, child of the desert that she was. She found it very much like the desert, vast and rolling and ever-changing. It seemed to go on forever, and in the days ahead she found that she could stand at the rail for hours, her eyes seeking, searching, ever watching, for what she knew not.

It had been early spring when they left Portus, and now they would shortly be reaching Massilia, the great and ancient port in that part of Caesar's Gaul known as Narbonensis. Here, the Alexander family would leave their ship and journey up through Gaul, using the roads traveled for centuries by the tin caravans. On the north coast of Gaul they would once again meet up with Sea Nymph and cross the channel to Britain. Because of the dangers of sea travel Marcus had preferred his family to travel by land where safe routes existed. The slaves would remain with the ship; but Zenobia and Dagian's personal servants, Mavia's nurse, and Severus would travel with the family.

At Massilia there was no undue activity about the docks, nor any interest shown in the Sea Nymph or her passengers. Marcus breathed a deep sigh of relief, though he realized that if Gaius Cicero had returned to Rome with the information that they had sailed for Cyprus, there would be a pursuit ordered in that direction. When their pursuers discovered no trace of them, the search would probably be ordered in the direction of Britain; but by then the trail would be cold, and they would be where Rome could not reach.

They left Sea Nymph, and traveled easily and quickly up from the coast bordering the Mediterranean to the coast on the channel that faced Britain.

The weather was pleasant, and they traveled amid the beauty of Gaul with its flower-filled fields and its great forests of oak. It was the forests with their soaring trees and dappled sunlight that made Zenobia nervous. She had never seen such vast expanses of trees, and she did not like being shut off from her sun. The nights they spent in the forests were most frightening to her, and she lay hollow-eyed and wide awake against Marcus, who slept unconcerned by her side. Every hoot of an owl, every unexplained rustle (and the long night seemed full of them) set her heart beating quicker. Zenobia welcomed their arrival at the coast where Sea Nymph waited to ferry them across to Britain.

They sailed from Gaul on an evening tide. By morning they would be in Britain. Zenobia dozed fitfully that night, her entire body attuned to the dawn, and when it came she rose from her place and wrapped herself in a long cloak before leaving the cabin. There was no wind, and the sky was white. Sea Nymph bobbed gently amid the clouds of fog, the only sound the rhythmic splash of the sea against the sides of the ship.

Then, as the sky began to grow a clear blue and the mists were driven away by the rising wind, she saw ahead of her a large island, its white cliffs rising out of the sea. Behind her she heard a step so familiar she didn't even bother to turn. "What is it, Marcus?"

"It is the island of Vectis, and just beyond it is Portus Adurni, where we shall land."

"What makes the cliffs so white?"

"They are made of chalk," he said.

"Interesting," she replied, then added, "Will Vaba and his family be awaiting us in Portus Adurni?"

"No," he said quietly.

"Are they already upon our island, or are they to come after us?"

He sighed. "They are not coming at all, beloved."

"Not coming?" She turned and looked up at him. "Why are they not coming, Marcus?"

"Because Vaba chooses not to come. Cyrene is not the grandest place in the Roman world, but he prefers to remain there with Flavia and their daughter. He has found contentment."

Quick tears sprang to her eyes. "He is rejecting me, Marcus. He is rejecting his own mother! He has never forgiven me for Palmyra, and I doubt he ever will. My children are gone, and I am alone."

"Your children are all alive, although they choose to live their own lives, beloved. Demi was found amid the ruins of the city, and has been nursed back to health by your brothers. He chooses to remain with the Bedawi. So the sons of Odenathus have survived despite all, and we have our daughter! The gods have taken away with one hand, it is true, but they have also given with the other."

She cried then, weeping against his chest until her sorrow was finally purged. Then, sniffing loudly, she looked up at him. With a loving smile he kissed her on her nose, and she had to laugh softly, for it was the sort of thing a mischievous little boy would have done. "I love you," he said, "and we are about to begin a new life. Put the past behind you, Zenobia. Only today and tomorrow matter."

"Yes," she said, "you are right, Marcus, and yet I cannot help but be sad. They were only little boys the last time I looked, and now suddenly they are grown men and they do not need me any longer."

"I need you," he answered her, "and our daughter needs you, and the son you will give me needs you!"

"I know, Marcus, but let me mourn my loss without guilt. Sometimes a woman needs time to mourn such a loss. I shall not die of grief, never fear."

Sea Nymph sailed past Vectis, and around the island's headland into the harbor of Portus Adurni. Compared to the great harbors she had seen, this one was tiny, and yet it was a main port of entry for Roman Britain. Around them on the deck great activity was taking place as the ship's sailors prepared for landing.

"Look!" Marcus pointed. "There is my brother, Aulus, come to meet us!"

"Your brother? How did he know we were coming?"

"Sea Nymph arrived on the Gaulish coast before we did. Before we left the ship at Massilia I had instructed Captain Paulus that he was to send a messenger ahead to Britain as soon as he reached Gaul. That is why Aulus is here." He turned back to the rail and, grinning, shouted, "Aulus! You are getting fat!"

"And you are graying like an old man!" came back the laughing reply.

The ropes from the ship were thrown shoreward and made fast. The gangway was lowered, and Aulus Alexander Britainus rushed aboard to embrace his brother. There were tears in his blue eyes, although, to his older brother's amusement, he quickly brushed them aside. Still, Marcus was touched. "Praise the gods you are safe!" Aulus said. "And our mother?"

"I have brought her to safety also," Marcus replied.

The two broke apart and stood for a moment staring delightedly at each other. Then Aulus's eyes swung about to light upon Zenobia, and he boldly assessed her. She stared back as coolly. Finally Aulus grinned in a boyish, impudent fashion.

"Is this Zenobia?" he demanded.

Marcus chuckled. "Yes, you overgrown roughneck, this is Zenobia, my wife. Zenobia, this is my charming but rude younger brother, Aulus."

"Hail, brother!" Zenobia said, and then she mischievously embraced him, kissing him on both cheeks and pressing her beautiful bosom against his chest.

As her heady hyacinth scent rose up to assail him Auius felt a quick stab of desire, and he gasped in surprise. Both Marcus and Zenobia laughed. "Whew!" chuckled the younger Alexander. "I surrender, sister. You are more woman than I'm prepared to deal with, and I bow to my brother's ability."

"As well you should," Zenobia teased him, and then she turned to her husband. "I will go and fetch Dagian. She will want to see this reprobate, I am sure."

Aulus and Marcus both watched her go, and with a grin Aulus congratulated his older brother. "By the gods, she is a beauty! You'll get a host of sons on her, brother.'"

"Perhaps if we are fortunate, Aulus, but I will not endanger her life to insure my immortality. Zenobia and I are no longer children, though we be newly married. We already have a child, and if Mavia is all we ever have then I shall be satisfied."

"But Zenobia's daughter is the child of her late husband. That does not count."

"Zenobia's daughter is mine, brother."

Aulus still did not understand, but then he saw the little girl exiting the main cabin of the ship, running toward them.

"Papa! Is this Britain? Are we here?"

Marcus swept her up in his arms, and Aulus gaped at the two heads so alike in color, the matching blue eyes, and the child's nose and jaw, so like his and Marcus's. "Mavia, this is your Uncle Aulus," Marcus said matter-of-factly.

Mavia held out her arms to Aulus, and, charmed, he lifted her from her father's grasp into his own. She kissed him sweetly. "How do you do, Uncle Aulus."

"I do very well, little Mavia," he said.

"Do you have a little girl like me?" she asked him.

"Indeed I do! Today you will start your journey to Salinae, where we have a fine villa. You have lots of little cousins awaiting your arrival, Mavia, and I promise you a very good time."

Mavia clapped her hands gleefully. "Do you hear that, Papa! I have cousins who wait to play with me! I have never had any cousins before. I shall like this Britain! I know I shall!"

Aulus put her down, and she ran off, re-entering the cabin as Zenobia exited it.

"Your mother will be here shortly," Zenobia said.

"What news of the emperor?" Marcus demanded.

"Which emperor? Aurelian is dead, assassinated outside of Byzantium. Tacitus reigns."

"The old senator?"

"Yes. The army asked the senate to appoint him, as it could not agree upon a candidate."

"Has there been any outcry over the disappearance of the queen?"

"None. I have not even heard she was missing. The Empress Ulpia, however, died, they say, at the very hour of Aurelian's death."

"Faithful Ulpia," Zenobia said. "She will serve him as well in death as she did in life."

"You are sure, Aulus? You are sure that there has been no mention of Zenobia at all?"

"None that I have heard, Marcus, and I am privy to accurate information."

"We are safe then?" Zenobia queried him.

"Perhaps, beloved, but nonetheless I will take no chances." He touched her face in an affectionate gesture, and then turned back to his brother. "Aulus, I wish to purchase from you the island off the southern coast that grandfather's concubine brought him as her dowry."

"It is yours, brother, but I will not take your gold. It is my wedding gift to you. What will you do with it?"

"We will live there, Aulus. There I believe Zenobia and I will be safe from any pursuit."

"Yes," Aulus agreed, "you will be safe, and I will help see to that. With the luck of the gods we will have plenty of time to prepare. First, however, you must come to Salinae so that Zenobia may meet the rest of the family."

"I had thought to go immediately to the island," Marcus said.

"With that Roman ship of yours, and its Roman crew? No, brother, I think not. When it returns to Rome, all the captain and crew can say is that you were brought to Portus Adurni. Past here they will be able to tell the authorities nothing. This land of ours may be an island, but it is a large island. Our own people will get you to your island, Marcus."

"Aulus!" Dagian hurried up to her son and kissed him. "Did I not tell you it was not my fate to die in a foreign land? I am home after all these years! I can scarcely believe it! Tell me how fares Eada and my grandchildren?"

He returned the kiss, and smilingly told her, "Both my wife and the children are all well. If you are ready, Mother, we shall begin our journey to Salinae."

Dagian nodded happily and turned to Marcus, Zenobia, and Mavia. "We are going home, my children," she said, and they were all unable to contain their joy.

15

Portus Adurni had not been particularly impressive, being more a village in size, though it had its baths and temple to Jupiter. The streets were hardened dirt and, Zenobia imagined, in winter a sea of mud. Although Rome's influence was evident in the soldiers and the more prosperous citizens who affected Roman garb, these were outnumbered by tall, black-haired, light-eyed and fair-skinned men and women wearing their own colorful dress, including leg coverings for the men. She had stared openly, and was stared at in return.

Aulus Alexander Britainus had arranged that his brother's entire family be transported by wagons the hundred fifteen miles from Portus Adurni to his villa outside the small town of Salinae. Salinae was located in a beautiful river valley surrounded by gentLe hills near the border of the Ordovices tribesmen in Wales. Even the slaves rode in the wagons, for the Alexander brothers wanted quickly to put as much distance between themselves and the coast as possible. The farther away they moved from the coast the less strong the Roman influence-and government.

Zenobia insisted upon being given her own horse. She reveled in this freedom, the first she had had since Aurelian had taken her prisoner at Palmyra. The countryside was like nothing she had ever seen before. "It is so green," she remarked several times almost to no one, and the brothers grinned over her head at each other.

She had always believed Palmyra the fairest thing upon the earth, but this green land with its orchards of pink and white blossoms, its fields of wild white daisies and purple yarrow, its rushing streams of clear water; it was all too much. The fields seemed to go on forever in their lustiness; the hills rolled gently down to the valleys. Zenobia was falling more in love with the glorious countryside as each mile passed. Nonetheless she noticed a subtle change in her brother-in-law. The closer they came to the village of Salinae where the Alexander villa was located, the less Roman he became, the trappings of the empire falling away from him easily. The morning of the day they were to arrive he appeared in a riding costume of a medium-blue knee-length tunica embroidered in gold thread around its lower edge and the long sleeves; deeper blue braccos, cross-gartered with bronze studded straps; and a dark-blue cloak fastened at the shoulder by a fibula.

"By the gods," Marcus drawled, amused, "you're affecting a Briton's dress, little brother."

"No, Marcus, I was affecting Roman dress in order to have easy access to the waterfront in Portus Adurni. I dress like a Briton because I am a Briton. My wife is a Briton, my children are British, and I live in Britain. I have never been a perfumed Roman."

"Our father was Roman," Marcus said in a tense voice.

"Our mother was not," came the reply.

"You reject Rome, Aulus?"

"I do. We do not need the Romans here in Britain."

Zenobia sighed. She might have been in Palmyra, and it might have been she who spoke, not Aulus. The Romans seemed to bring nothing but dissension with them. "Nothing changes," she said quietly.

They turned to look at her, and Marcus realized what she was thinking. "It will not be like Palmyra," he reassured her. "This is my brother's way of being his own man."

"Your brother is very much his own man," Dagian said. "He did not want to tell you, Marcus, but we are so near to Salinae that now I must. Aulus is chief of the Salinae Dobunni. He was elected by the tribe when his uncles were killed in a fight with the Ordovices. It was just before he came to Rome at the time of your father's death. Your cousins had not the leadership ability, and in fact it was they who put him forth to be elected."

"So the elder brother, landless and now without power, must look to his younger sibling for succor," Marcus said. Suddenly he laughed, seeing humor in the situation. "You had best let me retire to the island, Aulus. If I decide to stay at Salinae I shall overcome you and rule the Dobunni myself. Can you see me, my hair long, twin mustaches drooping mournfully, my body painted blue, leading a screaming charge into a legion?"

Aulus laughed back, imagining the picture his elegant elder brother had painted. "I shall indeed give you the island, brother. You are far too civilized to be Britainized!"

"Briton or Roman, Aulus, I care not. All I wish now is to live in peace with Zenobia and our child. I have had enough of wars and intrigues!"

Aulus was sympathetic to his brother's wishes. His own life had been strangely easy, he realized now that he looked back with more objectivity than he had ever had. He had known from the moment he had met Eada that she was the woman for him, and they were today the proud parents of six sons and two daughters.

Aulus Alexander Britainus felt an enormous burst of love for his older brother and his sister-in-law. They deserved peace, and they deserved happiness. He was going to try to see that they got both.

They had long passed through Corinium and Glevum, and now the houses of the village of Salinae came into view. It was a pretty place, its white houses having red-tiled roofs, each building or group of buildings walled in from the street. There was a market in the center of the town, but it was a small place and there were no public baths or temples in evidence. As they entered the village Zenobia could hear the cry being taken up, "The master is home! The master comes!"

They rode beneath a tall, roofed gatehouse and into a pleasant courtyard. From the open portico of the house came a tall and lovely woman in a pale-blue tunic dress, her long yellow braids bound up at the back of her head, upon which rested a sheer white linen cloth held in place by a plain gold fillet. Aulus was off his horse in a minute to sweep the woman into his arms and place a resounding kiss upon her lips.

Laughingly she chided him, but her light-blue eyes were soft with love. "For shame, my lord, and before our guests!"

Marcus dismounted and carefully lifted Zenobia down from her horse. Drawing her forward, he said to the blond woman, "Eada, I am your brother-in-law, Marcus, and this is my wife, Zenobia."

"You are most welcome to Britain, brother and sister, and to our home!" was the cordial reply as Eada came shyly forward and kissed them both on the cheeks.

Dagian now stepped forward and stared at Eada. Eada stared back, and then the two women embraced. They had never before met, but they knew in an instant that they would be friends; and Dagian knew that her old age would be a safe and pleasant one in this young woman's house. "Where are the children?" Dagian begged.

From the portico eight youngsters came forth, and Eada. the love and pride shining from her eyes, proudly introduced her children to their grandmother. "My eldest son, Graf-ere. He has seventeen summers; and this is Leof-el, who is fifteen; and Aelf-raed, thirteen; and his next brother, Ban-brigge, eleven. They are the four eldest, Mother Dagian."

Dagian hugged each of the boys, admiring their healthy good looks. All were blue-eyed, but three were dark-haired like their father, while Leof-el was a blond like his mother.

Eada continued her introductions. "Here are my daughters." She drew forth two pretty blond girls, their long hair in two neat plaits on either side of their heads. "This is Erwina, who is nine, and her sister, Feam, seven."

Dagian knelt and, holding out her arms, embraced her two newly found granddaughters, who shyly kissed her in return. "Mavia? Where is my little Mavia?" Dagian asked.

Mavia stepped from her hiding place behind her father, and came before Dagian. "Yes, Grandmother?"

"Dearest child, these are your cousins, Erwina and Feam. I know you shall have good times together!"

The three little girls looked at one another, and finally Erwina spoke. "I have a pony," she said with the importance of the eldest.

"I have a kitten," little Fearn piped. Then the two sisters looked to their cousin.

"I am a princess," Mavia said, settling the matter.

The sisters' blue eyes grew round with wonder. "You are?" Erwina said. "A real princess?"

"Of course," Mavia replied. "There are no other kind. Take me to see your pony, cousin! My papa will give me a pony too, and we shall ride together."

Marcus chuckled indulgently, but Zenobia was mortified. "She must not do that, and you must not encourage her, Marcus! Palmyra is gone, and Mavia is just a child."

Eada laughed, and tucked her arm companionably through her new sister-in-law's. "She is clinging to the past because this is all so strange and new to her. It cannot have been easy for her, either. She will soon forget she was once a princess, and she will be running barefoot in the fields with her cousins. Come now and meet my two youngest."

A sturdy apple-cheeked nursemaid came forward holding by the hands two tow-headed little boys with mischievous and twinkling dark-blue eyes.

"These two scamps are Gal, who has managed to reach five, and his baby brother, Tam-tun, who is now three."

Dagian bent to kiss the littlest boys, but tears flooded Zenobia's eyes as she remembered her sons, now lost to her. Marcus put his arms about her, and she wept softly into his chest as he soothed her gently. "We will have our own sons," he said.

"I am past thirty," she sobbed. "Oh, why did I not wed with you years ago?!"

"Because you were stubborn, and proud, and Queen of Palmyra, beloved. You had so much responsibility, my darling. You could face nothing more, and how were we to know that it would end this way?"

"How old are you, Zenobia?" Eada asked, and when Zenobia told her Eada laughed. 'Tam-tun was born when I was only a year younger than you are now, and I suspect that I am breeding again with another child. It is not as if you have never had a child. Come on now," she said briskly, "and I will take you to your room."

The interior of the house was like nothing Zenobia had ever seen. They entered into a vast hall with three fireplaces, the floors of stone. On either side of the main fireplace were corridors, leading to a bath on one side, and the kitchen wing on the other. Off the entry of the house, which was located before the main hall, were staircases leading up to the sleeping quarters. Zenobia and Marcus were led to a large, airy, comfortable room, which was to be theirs during their stay with Aulus and his wife: Mavia was somewhere with her cousins, probably already running barefooted, thought her mother.

In the days to come Zenobia began to learn a way of life that was quite different from the life she had led as the Queen of Palmyra; nor was it like that of the proper Roman wife whom Marcus liked to tease her about. If it resembled anything it was somewhat similar to her childhood within her father's tribe. Aulus and his family were very close, and that closeness extended to the members of the Salinae Dobunni tribe of whom he was chieftain. He looked after those who could not look after themselves, settled their arguments, approved marriages between families, kept the peace, and administered the law. It was not always easy, although Aulus was a popular leader. His loyalty was clearly to Britain, for he had long ago cut his ties to Rome. Britain, however, was a large land peopled by many tribes, some more civilized than others, and it was necessary to be constantly vigilant.

Zenobia still felt pursued. She could not escape the feeling that the Roman authorities were not about to let an important imperial captive simply walk away. As much as she enjoyed being with Aulus's family, she was anxious to gain the safety of their island, for instinct told her that she would have no peace until they were there. One afternoon she and Marcus rode out across the vast estate owned by Aulus, stopping to dismount upon a little hill. About them spikes of purple lavender scented the air. They sat upon the ground, the sun warming their backs, and looked out over the valley below, the river winding its way across the green landscape.

"When will we go to the island?" she asked him.

"Soon, beloved. I want to go on ahead of you, and see what must be done to make it habitable."

"You have paid your brother for it?"

"He did not want the gold, but I made him take it. I could not feel the island was really mine if I did not buy it. I wanted no charity from Aulus."

"The rivalry is still there, isn't it?"

"Yes. And so it shall always be. I cannot forget it, and neither can Aulus. We are better friends when we each have our own territory."

"I shall be glad when we have our own home at last," she answered him. "Eada is kind, but it is her house… and the walls are thinner than I would wish. Last night when you slept I could hear Graf-ere and Leof-el with a servant girl in the room next door to ours. One of them, and I am not sure which, grunted like a boar in rut when atop the girl."

"So that is why you have been so reluctant, and so restrained," he chuckled.

"If I could hear them, Marcus, then surely they could hear us!"

"There is no one to hear us now," he said slowly, and then he ran a finger down her arm.

"Here?"

"And now," he said softly, and then he reached up, took down her dark hair, and began to undo the braids. "I far prefer your beautiful hair loose and flowing, as you have worn it in the past." His fingers threaded themselves through the waves, undoing them, spreading the hair like a dark silken mantle over her shoulders.

She felt a surge of joyous pleasure at his sensuous action, and rising to her feet, she loosened the girdle at the waist of her tunic dress and drew the gown and its undergarment off, letting them fall into the sweet-smelling grass. She stood tall and proud, her beautiful golden body with its softly blowing black hair swirling about her. The air caressed her body, and it felt good. "When and where you are Gaius, I then and there am Gaia," she said, repeating her wedding vow to him.

Marcus looked up at his golden wife outlined against the blue sky, and said, "Oh, Zenobia, how very much I love you!" Then he stood, quickly disrobed, and pulled her into his strong arms. Her hands caressed his back gently as he drew her against him. They stood, bodies pressed tightly against one another, for several long moments, and then he lowered his head to kiss her.

It was a deep kiss, a passionate kiss; a kiss that demanded and gave no quarter. His mouth bruised hers, but she kissed him back fiercely, her heart soaring wildly as the passion of his lips and the warmth of his hard body communicated to her their intense need of each other. Her hands ran down his long, smooth back to cup his buttocks, to fondle them, to feel the hard muscles within them.

He groaned, shifting against her, murmuring lover's thoughts against her lips. "Beloved! My beautiful beloved! The gods, how I want you! How I long to possess you-and be possessed by you!"

Her hands slid back up his frame to tangle themselves within his chestnut hair. She held his head with her hands, and pressed feathery kisses across his face. "I love you," she said. "I think I always have from the moment that we met in the desert outside of Palmyra!" Then her mouth found his again, and they kissed once more, hungrily, eagerly, greedily. Like bumblebees seeking the sweetest nectar from a rose, they drank of each other's mouths.

His big hands sat firmly upon her hips, and now he began to draw her down to the sweet grass. The earth was warm beneath her back as she drew his head to her glorious breasts. "Love me, my Marcus," she said low. "Love me as you have always loved me!" And then she lay quiet, her head thrown back.

He leaned over her, tenderly looking deep into her silvery eyes as they mirrored back his love of her, and then he kissed her gently, fleetingly upon the lips before moving slowly from the corner of her mouth to the soft hollow beneath her ear, just above her jaw. He lingered there for a few moments, enjoying the sweet perfume of her fragrance and the tiny pulse that leapt beneath his lips. Moving lower, he slipped along the side of her neck and down to her rounded shoulder, which seemed to him to be begging to be nibbled. Gently he nipped the firm flesh before returning to her throat, which beckoned him onward to the deep valley between her breasts.

One of his arms cradled her with tenderness, while his other hand moved to caress her breasts, trembling at the silky fineness of her skin. He had touched her this way a thousand thousand times, and yet it was as if this were the first. His touch brought a little cry of pleasure, which excited him greatly. Swiftly bending, he captured a trembling nipple and sucked deeply upon it while his hand kneaded her breast. For several long and wonderful minutes he gave all his attention to her one breast, and then he moved on to the other lest it feel neglected. Zenobia now began to writhe slowly beneath her husband's expert lovemaking, her excitement rising fast now.

Finally he laid his head upon her belly, and his fingers began a delicate teasing of her Venus mount, stroking, probing tenderly between the plumpness of her nether lips; finding the sweet, hidden bud of her womanhood; taunting it with a clever finger; bringing his dark head down to taste of her honeyed sweetness, coaxing the bud into blossom. She shuddered forcefully, and he swung a leg over her, mounting her gently.

She reached out to caress his manhood, her long fingers brushing him, exciting him with her very touch. Softly she cupped the pouch of his sex in her hands, her warmth communicating itself to him as she lightly fondled him. Then she guided him into her waiting body, sighing as he buried his lance to the very hilt. She wrapped her legs around him, allowing him to go farther, rejoicing in his skill as he began to find the rhythm.

For a moment her eyes focused upon the blue sky above her, and then Zenobia began to soar with the glorious pleasures he was unleashing throughout her body. She became one with the sky, floating free above the troubled earth. She became one with him, and they were invincible! Her cry startled the horses, who snorted and danced about the tree to which they were tethered. Her nails raked down his back, making thin bloody weals in the flesh, and he reveled in the sharpness, groaning his delight as his seed overflowed her parched and throbbing womb. Her hot sheath clutched at him, drawing the last drop from him, and then he fell exhausted upon her chest, their wild hearts matching beat for beat.

They both lay semiconscious for some minutes, and then he rolled off her and pulled her into his arms in a bear hug. "If I had died then, beloved, it would have been a glorious death."

"I thought I had died," she murmured back.

They lay a few minutes longer, the warm sun and the breeze lightly brushing their skin, and then he said, "We will have to go back, Zenobia, although I should far prefer to remain in this outdoor bedchamber of ours."

"It is the first time I have felt relaxed since we arrived in Britain," she answered him. "Please, Marcus, do not leave me when you go to our island. I should prefer to live roughly than to be without you."

"I don't want to leave you, beloved, but how can I take you when I do not know what I am going to find?"

"Then go tomorrow! Go tomorrow, and return quickly to me, for I cannot even bear the thought of being separated from you!"

They rose from their bed of sweet grass amid the lavender spikes and quickly redressed.

Together they rode back toward the villa of Aulus Alexander. They were almost there when a Dobunni tribesman stepped from behind a tree along the path. "Marcus Alexander Britainus," he called. "Do not go back to the villa! The Romans are there, and they seek you and your wife! You are to come with me to a place of safety."

"Mavia!" Zenobia's face paled. "I cannot leave her!"

"The little one will be safe," the tribesman replied, but Zenobia was adamant.

"I must get my child," she said. "I will not leave her!"

Marcus reached out, and put a steadying hand on his wife. "Who are these Romans?" he asked the tribesman. "Are they from Rome, or are they from Corinium?"

"Corinium," came the prompt reply.

"Listen to me, Zenobia. I think you can get safely into the villa to Mavia. If the soldiers leave, then we will leave almost as quickly. If they stay, then we will have to get you both out of the villa; but I know that you will not rest easy without Mavia, and I can trust the woman who led Palmyra's legions not to get caught."

She nodded, dismounted her horse, and began to walk toward the village. She turned once, blowing him a kiss, then continued on her way.

"What if they catch her?" asked the tribesman.

"They won't."

Using a garden gate, Zenobia slipped into the grounds and entered the house. "Are you mad?" Aulus's voice hissed in her ear.

"Are there any among them who know me?" she demanded of him.

"No, but you risk everything by coming back!"

"Did you think I would leave my child?" Zenobia's voice was fierce.

"Who is this, Aulus Alexander Britainus? You said that all of your household were present." The speaker was a plump young man, obviously new to Britain.

"I do apologize, Centurion, but I had forgotten this serving wench. She is but newly acquired. I bought her at the last captive's market." Aulus cuffed Zenobia about the head. "And where have you been this time, dog? Not at your duties, I'll wager!"

The centurion was less interested now, but still sought answers. "Where is she from? She does not look British."

"She is from Ierne, the island nation to the west of Britain. She was brought back from a raid," Aulus answered. "I think she is a bit simple-minded, for she has a tendency to wander. Go to your mistress, wench, and don't let me catch you out again! Probably in the stables humping the men," he grumbled, and the centurion laughed, his interest in Zenobia completely gone.

"She's a bit too long in the tooth for me," he said. "I like 'em young, around eleven or twelve."

Zenobia hurried to stand beside Dagian, her head lowered in a servile attitude. "What has happened?" she whispered.

"They arrived about an hour ago," Dagian whispered back. "Wait, and I will tell you."

The family was finally dismissed and permitted to go about its business. Zenobia hurried upstairs with Dagian, and almost at once the older woman began to speak. "They came without warning. It seems a trireme returning from Massilia reported seeing Sea Nymph docked there, and it was quickly ascertained that you had fled to Britain, although they did send to Cyprus and Capri both in case you were being clever with them. Finding Sea Nymph at Portus Adurni confirmed the trireme's sighting. The ship was seized." Dagian caught her breath. "Why did you come back? Where is Marcus?"

"I could not leave Mavia, and he is with the Dobunni. I am safe. They have no idea what Zenobia, the Queen of Palmyra, looks like. Are they going to stay?"

"I am not certain, but I do know that this centurion is not very bright. All he knows is that he is looking for Marcus and you. He has no idea that I just arrived here several weeks ago."

"They are not staying." Eada came through the door and into Dagian's room. "Oh, Zenobia, how you frightened me! When I saw you come into the room, my heart went into my mouth. Why did you not stay away? You might have been caught!"

"I was in no danger of being caught," Zenobia soothed her sister-in-law. "I could not leave my child to seek safety. Mavia is our most precious possession."

"They are coming back," Eada said. "They feel sure that you are in this area, although Aulus has denied seeing you. They are returning to Corinium for more soldiers, and then they are coming back to search the whole area around Salinae."

"How long will that give us?" Zenobia asked Eada.

"They cannot return to Corinium until tomorrow, and it will take them all day to get back. Then they must come back with more soldiers. I think you will probably have three days."

A mischievous smile lit Zenobia's face. "We shall leave before them," she said, "and since we will be riding, we shall be through the town of Corinium before them. While they are retracing their steps to seek us, we shall be going in the opposite direction!"

Eada began to laugh softly. "What a marvelous strategist you are, sister! Is it true that in your own land you were a great general?"

"I led my armies," Zenobia admitted modestly.

"Marcus says she was indeed a great general," Dagian said.

"I well believe it," Eada replied, and then she asked Zenobia anxiously, "You will forgive Aulus for cuffing you, won't you?"

Now Zenobia laughed. "I think my brother has missed his calling," she said. "He would make a marvelous actor! Humping the men in the stables, indeed!"

"There was really no need for Aulus to be quite so crude," Dagian chided.

"No, no," Zenobia defended Aulus. "It was that marvelous touch that convinced the centurion that I was naught but a blowsy and stupid slave woman. It was quite clever of him."

That night, Aulus was forced to offer the hospitality of his table to the centurion and to the legionnaires in his courtyard. Zenobia and Mavia kept to their bedroom, safe and out of sight. Mavia was nervous as she had not been since Palmyra, and at one point she began to cry. Zenobia soothed her child, making a game out of what they would do later. "We are going to sneak out of Uncle Aulus's villa just the way Mama snuck out of Palmyra to seek help from the Persians," Zenobia said.

"But the Romans caught you!" Mavia wailed.

"Only because Papa wasn't with us, Mavia," her mother said.

"Where is Papa?" the child demanded.

"With the Dobunni. They will help us to reach our island."

"The Romans will not catch us?" Mavia sniffed. "We will not have to live with the emperor again?"

"No, my darling, the Romans will not catch us, and we will never again see the emperor. I promise you, Mavia!" and Zenobia hugged her small daughter tightly.

"Always on the run, always fleeing," Bab muttered as she packed their things. "I hope that eventually before I die we will be given some measure of peace again!"

Adria bowed her head, smiling at the old woman's grumbling. They all knew that Bab, now in her late seventies, thrived on the excitement that seemed constantly to surround her mistress.

"Be patient with me, old woman," Zenobia said. "Surely this must be the last time I am forced to flee. Once we have gained the safety of our island home, then they will never find me again."

"I certainly hope so! If your dear mother were alive it would have broken her heart to see how those Romans have hounded you."

The clothing and personal effects necessary for a journey were packed carefully by Adria in a small trunk. Everything else was packed by Bab in the trunks for shipping later.

The centurion had been plied with excellent wine, and now with the aid of a light sleeping draught slipped into his last cup, he lay snoring noisily in a guest chamber. He did not hear the family as mey slipped one by one into Zenobia's chamber to bid her farewell. Erwina and Fearn brought their cousin Mavia a small gray and white kitten as a farewell gift.

"She is called Blossom because she loves to smell the flowers," lisped Fearn.

Mavia, hugging Blossom to her chest, thanked her cousins and promised to visit again one day.

"You must travel quickly now," Eada said, "but when we can send your things along safely, I will include many rootings and cuttings from my gardens for you." Her blue eyes filled with tears. "I wish you weren't going, Zenobia! I shall miss you."

"I have never had a sister," Zenobia said slowly. "I am fortunate that you are now mine. How can I ever thank you for your hospitality? If I were still a queen in my own land… but I am not. I have nothing I can give you except my love, Eada."

The two women embraced warmly, and then with a teary look at Zenobia, Eada left her. "She will never forget you," Dagian said. "She is a simple chief's daughter who has never in her entire life been farther than Corinium. You have brought the world into her life."

"She brought kindness into mine," Zenobia returned. "She opened her home and her heart to us. I can never forget that, Dagian, for it went beyond the bounds of hospitality." She looked searchingly at her mother-in-law. "Are you sure that you want to remain here? Once we have settled ourselves you are most welcome to come to us. Both Marcus and I love you, and Mavia is going to be lost without you."

"No, my child, I shall be content here."

"At least come for the winters. Eada tells me that the winters here can be harsh, and upon the island it will be mild."

"Perhaps for the winters," Dagian said, and then she enfolded Zenobia in a loving embrace. "Be happy, dearest daughter, for you have made my son happy! I could love you for that alone. We shall meet again." Then she kissed Zenobia tenderly, and hurried from the room.

Aulus came to get them. "You'll be leaving through the garden gate, and there's little likelihood of your encountering the Romans. There'll be a Dobunni to guide you to Marcus, and then you're safely on your way."

"Thank you a thousand times, Aulus. Without you I don't know what we would have done. The Romans came so quickly. I thought we had more time."

"You survived without me," Aulus muttered, embarrassed, for he was a simple man.

She kissed his rough cheek, and then before he might protest, said, "Let us go, brother! Bab, Chairman, Adria, Mavia! Come along!"

Old Severus was to go with them also, and he was waiting in the garden by the street gate for them. Dressed in dark cloaks to camouflage themselves, the six set off through the gate and down the street. At the corner they were joined by a barely distinguishable tribesman who stepped from the darkness to lead them. Silently they followed him, their eyes upon his dark shape as they traveled through the village and out into the open fields.

A fine moon had now risen to silver the landscape and show them the way. Finally they entered a small wood, where in a clearing Marcus awaited them. Thankfully he embraced his wife and daughter.

"Praise the gods you are safe!"

"They never saw Mavia, and Aulus told them I was a captive slave from Ierne. It was simple, my darling. Tell me now how we get to where we are going?"

"We will travel to Glevum, and be through it by morning; but we shall be able to bypass Corinium entirely, for they have built a new road in the last five years between Glevum and Aquae Sulis."

"Then we do not have to worry about a large Roman garrison!" She was relieved.

He continued. "From Aquae Sulis we go to Lindinis and finally the last really important Roman settlement in Britain, Isca Dumnonionim. Aulus has sent a message to the high chieftain of me Dumnonii. They will take us the rest of the way to the coast, where a ship awaits us. From here to there we travel in safety under the protection of the warriors of the Dobunni." He smiled down at her. "You are safe, beloved! You are safe now and forever!" And looking up into his moonlit eyes, Zenobia, the Queen of Palmyra, knew that he spoke the truth.

"Then lead on, my husband," she said quietly, "and take me home."