Beloved (20 page)

For a moment a heavy silence hung in the room, and then Marcus said quietly, “Am I to be told what this is all about?”

“Al-Zena is angry because she is not to be known as Queen
of Palmyra. She simply seeks to make trouble,” Zenobia said wearily.

“She accused us of being lovers, Highness. A dangerous accusation for you—and for me.”

“An untruth from the mouth of a bitter woman. It is as noisy bird chatter.”

“Do not underestimate her hatred, Zenobia,” Deliciae said. “Had I not overheard that old bitch, Ala, chortling her story, you would have indeed been alone with Marcus Alexander, and even if the king had believed you, a suspicion would always exist in some dark corner of his mind.”

“Odenathus would never distrust me, Deliciae.”

“Odenathus is simply a mortal man, Zenobia.”

“Listen to her, my baby,” Bab said urgently.

Zenobia sighed irritably. “Come, Marcus, let us get on with our lesson of the day. I apologize to you for Al-Zena’s behavior. It must be her time of life.”

“Humph,” Bab said with a sniff. “It is her nature, and that is as sour as a lemon!”

“The old woman speaks a truth,” Deliciae murmured.

Zenobia ignored them both, and looked to Marcus. He forced back a smile that threatened to turn up the corners of his mouth. “Today,” he said, “we shall discuss your illustrious ancestress, Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt.” Even Deliciae and Bab now turned interested faces to him, and listened as Marcus began to unfold the fascinating tale of the woman who had ruled Egypt and captured the hearts of two illustrious Romans of the day.

Zenobia, however, was not listening. There was little Marcus could tell her of Cleopatra that she did not already know. Al-Zena’s unfounded accusation disturbed her in a way far different than anyone would have thought. Suddenly Zenobia found herself looking upon Marcus Alexander not just as a friend, or a Roman, or her teacher, but as a man. Had his eyes always been
that
blue, and the lashes so long and thick? The gods, he was so handsome! With a guilty start she lowered her eyes from his features, afraid her thoughts would be as plain to him as they were to her. What was the matter with her that her thoughts took such a path? Then the wicked worm of curiosity reared itself, and Zenobia found herself wondering what it would be like to be held tightly against his broad chest by those strong arms, to feel that mocking mouth upon her mouth. Shamed color flooded her face, and with a little cry she rose and fled from the room.

“Poor Zenobia,” Deliciae said with genuine sympathy, “That wretched Al-Zena has obviously upset her greatly. I wonder the gods don’t strike the old witch dead with one of their thunderbolts. It would be a great justice.”

“Aye,” Bab muttered. “I pray for it nightly.”

He said nothing. What had caused her to flee the room he didn’t know, but it was not Odenathus’s mother, of that he was certain.

It was not in Zenobia’s character to be dishonest, so that night as she and Odenathus lay side by side, fingers intertwined, sated with pleasure, she said quietly, “Ala told Al-Zena the truth today. I was alone with Marcus, but ’twas only a few minutes, my Hawk. He arrived while Julia was with me, and when she left we stood talking. It did not occur to me that we were being indiscreet. Suddenly Deliciae and Bab were there saying that your mother had set her slave to spy on me, and that you were both coming. They begged me to pretend that they had been with me the entire time. I regret that I did so, for now I have lied to you without meaning to.”

He stroked the silken head that lay upon his chest, smiling to himself in the darkness. He had known that she was alone with the Roman, for he had set his own spies upon her weeks ago. It was not that he distrusted her, or that she had given him any cause to doubt her love; but his mother’s barbs had set the worm of uncertainty gnawing at him in the dark part of the night when he awoke, and he was suddenly afraid of losing her. He had known there was no harm in the little time she and Marcus had been alone. He knew that the Roman treated Zenobia with great respect, and perhaps a little bit of affection; the kind of affection that one might give a younger sister. They were friends, Marcus Alexander Britainus, and his wife, and Zenobia had few friends, for who would dare to be friends with a queen. He would not spoil that friendship for her despite his mother’s constant suspicion. They were simply the ravings of a sick and bitter woman.

“Thank you for telling me this, my flower,” he said quietly, “but I have never doubted that your relationship with Marcus Alexander is anything more than friendship between teacher and pupil.” She sighed with relief, and again he smiled to himself. Never again would his mother’s words have the power to distress him. He and Zenobia were as one now, as they had ever been.
“You will be regent for me when I go to war against the Persians,” he said.

“When will you go?”

“Within the month,” he replied. “King Shapur again harasses Antioch.”

“I cannot help but notice that every time he does so he carefully bypasses Palmyra in his march to the coast,” Zenobia said.

Odenathus chuckled. “He knows that I shall eventually beat him, my flower. He wishes to retain the illusion of invincibility as long as possible.”

She laughed. “Neither of you lacks for pride, my Hawk.”

“I shall probably miss Antonius Porcius’s wedding, but you will go, and then you shall write me all about it.”

“Oh,” she said, “I had almost forgotten. My secretary has arrived! Just today.”

“Who?”

“Dionysius Cassius Longinus. I told you that I had sent for him to come from Athens, where he has been teaching rhetoric. If I am to govern for you while you play the soldier I must have someone of my own whom I can trust. Do not forget that I have watched your council meetings, and I know how difficult your councillors can be. There is not one of them who wouldn’t forward his own interests before Palmyra’s. You, my Hawk, have the patience of a Christian, but I am not sure that I do.”

“Speaking of the Christians, beware of my councillor, Publius. He has a serious quarrel with the Christian merchant, Paulus Quintus, and he will play the outraged moralist in order to gain his way.”

“I will remember,” she answered him. “Is there anything else you think I should know?”

“Only that I adore you, my flower,” he said, and she murmured softly against his chest, sending tiny icy shivers up and down his spine. “I do not think I want to go off and play soldier,” he said, “if it means I shall be parted from you. We have never been separated before, my flower.”

“Come back either with your shield, or upon it,” she teased him, quoting the saying of ancient Spartan women to their men.

“Are you so anxious for me to go?”

“You have proved yourself many times, my Hawk, but I have never been given that chance. With you away I shall rule the city in my own right, and I will at last know what I can do.”

He winced. “You are as painfully honest as ever, my flower.”

“Oh, Hawk!” She was instantly contrite. “I shall miss you. I shall! But I do want to know what I can do.”

“I know, Zenobia, I know that. Go to sleep now, my flower. You will not get much rest once you become ruler.”

She was quickly asleep, her even breathing a warm puff against his bare chest. He held her protectively, enjoying her softness, her scent of hyacinth. He would, he suspected, miss her a great deal more than she would miss him, for everything she was to do while he was gone was new to her and she looked forward to it with enthusiasm. Indeed, he wondered if she would miss him at all. For a brief moment he regretted marrying such an intelligent and independent woman; but then he had known what she was like, and still he had wanted her. He wanted her now. The world was full of compliant bodies, but interesting women were a rarity. Whenever she surrendered to him he felt a sense of victory. It was never with others the way it was with her. He smiled at his fancies. It was really very simple, Odenathus thought. He loved her.

“Do not hide behind false piety with me, Publius Cato!”

“Your Majesty misunderstands me,” came the oily reply.

“I misunderstand nothing, Publius Cato.”

“The emperor has shown us the direction to take. Do you say he is wrong?”

The collective intake of breath was quite audible.
Be careful
, Longinus mouthed at Zenobia. Her nod was barely perceptible. “The emperor is correct in all things, Publius Cato. If he persecutes the Christians in Rome then surely in Rome they deserve it; but here in Palmyra our few Christians are honest citizens who obey our laws and meet their obligations promptly. I suspect that your zeal for a persecution stems from the fact that you owe a rather large debt to Paulus Quintus, the merchant, who by coincidence is a Christian.”

“The goods he sold me were inferior!”

“Then it is a matter for the courts, isn’t it, Publius Cato?”

“The court ruled yesterday, Majesty,” Zenobia’s secretary said.

“Did it?”
Zenobia was more than aware of the verdict, but she wanted the rest of the council to know, too. “And what was the court’s decision, Longinus?”

“The court ruled in favor of Paulus Quintus, Majesty. The goods were not shoddy, as claimed by Publius Cato. He was ordered to pay Paulus Quintus for the merchandise.”

“I see.” The look Zenobia sent the rest of her councillors was one of patient tolerance. “Is there anyone else here who feels that the Christians are a danger to this government, or to the city itself? I will listen to anyone who wishes to speak.”

Eloquent silence followed. Publius Cato rose angrily from his seat and made for the door.

“This council is not dismissed!” Zenobia’s voice was icy.

“I will not stay here and be insulted by a woman!”

“That a woman bore you, Publius Cato, is certainly not a point
in our favor,” Zenobia replied, “but if you leave this chamber without my permission you will forever be dismissed from the council. I am Queen of Palmyra, and
I will be Queen.”
She smiled faintly. “Come now, Publius Cato. You have given many years to this government, and have rendered it valuable service on any number of occasions. I can understand your desire for revenge, but whatever is between you and Paulus Quintus, you must not bring your wishes for vengeance into our government. When you have calmed down you will see that I am right. Come now, and sit. We have much business to dispose of before I dismiss you all.”

Two other councillors had gotten up, and now spoke urgently and softly to Publius Cato, who, red-faced, shook his head in the negative.

“You can do no more, Majesty,” Longinus said. “The man is impossible.”

“It would be better not to make enemies.”

“Whether he returns to his seat or not he will be your enemy. At least you have made a public attempt at reconciliation. If he is rash enough to leave, he will look the churl he is, and you may appoint one of your own people.”

“And if he returns? What then?” She cocked her head to one side.

“He will attempt to block everything you do, for he is a petty man,” Longinus replied. Then his eyes widened slightly and he said gleefully, “The gods have heard my prayers! The fool is leaving!”

Zenobia’s face was regretful, but she gained immediate sympathy from everyone in the room. “I mourn the loss of Publius Cato,” she said, “but if I did not serve the interests of Palmyra first, I could not serve the interests of Palmyra at all.” For a moment she looked saddened, then her gray eyes grew bright and alert again. “With Publius Cato’s departure we lack a quorum. Unless I immediately appoint someone to take his place we must disband; and there is so much to be done. I do not feel we can afford to lose the time. Are there any objections to my appointing, at least temporarily, Cassius Longinus, my secretary, to fill the place left by Publius Cato? Although he has been away several years, he is a native son of this city.”

“I can see no impediment to such an appointment,” said Marius Gracchus, the eldest and senior member of the council. After a brief moment all the others nodded their heads in agreement. “It
is settled then, Majesty. Welcome Dionysius Cassius Longinus. You are not the first member of your family to serve this council. I remember your illustrious grandfather quite well.”

Several hours later, after the council had been dismissed, Longinus said to his mistress, “I am not sure that you did not plan that whole thing.”

“Actually, I did not expect Publius Cato to resign his post, but when he did it was only natural that I appoint you in his place, and I’m sure Odenathus will approve my choice, Longinus.”

“You do not know me.”

Zenobia turned her gray eyes on him, and smiled faintly. “I know you, Longinus. When we first met I instantly knew the kind of man you are—intelligent, honest and shrewd. You will be loyal to me, and therefore to Palmyra.”

“You have neglected to say that I prefer men for lovers,” Longinus replied wickedly.

Zenobia laughed. “Have you ever made love to a woman, Longinus? But you need not tell me. I shall grant that your private life be your own.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously at him, and he was forced to laugh with her.