Beloved

'/ will never beg,' she repeated firmly. Then she smiled sweetly at her brother. 'Besides, am I not the beloved of the gods, Akbar? They will defend me always!'

2

Odenathus, Prince of Palmyra, sat his horse and watched the maneuvers of a Bedawi camel corps. Its warriors were magnificently trained, and under the direction of their captain they performed extremely well. The prince turned and said to his host, 'Well, my cousin Zabaai, if all your troops perform this well; if all your captains are that competent; I foresee a day when I may drive the Romans from my city.'

'May the gods grant your wish, my lord Prince. Too long has the golden yoke been about our necks, and each year the Romans take more and more of the riches that come to us from the Indies and Cathay. We are beggared trying to feed their rapacious appetites.'

Odenathus nodded in agreement, and then said, 'Will you present me to the captain of your camel corps? I should like to congratulate him on his leadership.'

Zabaai hid a smile. 'Of course, my lord.' He raised his hand in a signal, and the camel cavalry whirled away from him, galloped down a stretch of desert, and then turned to come racing furiously back to stop just short of the two men. 'The prince would like to present his compliments, Captain,' Zabaai said.

The leader of the corps slid from his mount and bowed smartly -before the prince.

'You handle your men well, Captain. I hope that someday we may ride together.'

'It will be an honor, my lord, although I am not used to sharing my command with anyone.' The captain's burnoose was tossed back, and the ruler of Palmyra found himself staring into the face of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She laughed at his surprise, and said, 'Do you not recognize me, my cousin?'

'Zenobia?' He was astounded. This could not be Zenobia! Zenobia was a child. This statuesque goddess could not be the flat and leggy child he remembered. Three and a half years had passed since he had last seen her.

'You're staring,' she said.

'What?' He was totally confused.

'You are staring at me, my lord. Is something wrong?'

'You've changed,' he managed to say in a somewhat strangled voice.

'I am almost fifteen, my lord.'

'Fifteen,' he repeated foolishly. By the gods, she was a glorious creature!

'You may go now, Zenobia,' Zabaai dismissed her. 'We will expect you at the evening meal.'

'Yes, Father.' Zenobia turned and, grasping her camel's bridle, swung herself back up into the saddle. Raising her hand as signal, she led her camel corps away as the two men re-entered Zabaai ben Selim's tent.

'Did you or did you not propose a match between your daughter and myself several years back, Zabaai?' the Palmyran prince demanded.

'I did.'

'The girl was to become my wife a year after she became a woman. Is that not correct?'

'Yes, my lord.'

'Has she now reached her maturity?'

'Yes, my lord.' It was all that Zabaai ben Selim could do to keep from laughing. Odenathus's desire was so open as to be embarrassing.

'Then why is she not my wife?' came the anguished cry.

'Nothing was formally proposed, my lord. When you did not make formal application for my daughter's hand I was forced to conclude that you were not seriously interested. Besides, your devotion to your favorite, Deliciae, is well known. She has given you two sons, has she not?'

'Deliciae is a concubine,' Odenathus protested. 'Her sons are not my heirs. Only my wife's sons will hold that distinction.'

'You do not have a wife,' Zabaai ben Selim reminded.

'Do not toy with me, cousin,' Odenathus said. 'You know full well that I want Zenobia to wife. You knew that the moment I saw her I would want her. Why did you simply not present her to me? Why that silly charade with the camel corps?'

'It was no charade, my lord. Zenobia commands her own corps, and has for two years now. If I let you marry her it must be with the understanding that she is free to go her own way. She is not an ornament to be housed like a fine jewel in the box of your harem. My daughter descends from the rulers of Egypt, and she is as free as the wind. You cannot pen the wind, Odenathus.'

'I will agree to whatever you wish, Zabaai, but I want Zenobia!' the prince promised rashly.

'The first thing I want is that you get to know one another. Zenobia may have the body of a woman, but she is yet a child where men are concerned.'

'She is still a virgin?'

Zabaai chuckled. 'Not that the young men of my tribe have not tried, Odenathus, but my daughter is yet a virgin. It is very difficult to make love to a girl who can outwrestle you. Zenobia is, as you undoubtedly noticed, quite tall for a girl. She gets her height from her Greek-Egyptian ancestry, not the Bedawi. She is at least as tall as you, Odenathus. Not at all like your Deliciae, who can look up at you. Zenobia will look you right in the eye.'

'Why did you not offer her to me again, Zabaai? The truth, my cousin.'

Zabaai ben Selim sighed. 'Because I am reluctant to give her up, Odenathus. She is my only daughter; Iris's child; and when she is gone from me I will miss her. If you wed her you will find in her an interesting companion. She will not simper at you like so many of these harem females. She will be your friend as well as your lover. Are you man enough to accept a woman on those terms?'

'Yes,' came the unwavering reply.

'So be it then,' the Bedawi chief said. 'If Zenobia has no objections after you two have grown to know one another, then you may have her to wife.'

'May I tell her?' he asked.

'No, I will tell her, my cousin, and I will tell her immediately so there will be no confusion or restraint between you.'

The two men separated men, the prince returning to his own tent, and the Bedawi chieftain to his daughter's quarters. He found her sponging herself with a small basin of perfumed water, grumbling as she always did over the scarcity of the precious liquid here in the desert. Still she was careful not to waste the water, and reused it several times, storing it in a goatskin bag between her ablutions.

'Praise Jupiter that it is almost time to return to Palmyra!' she greeted him. 'You have no idea, Father, how I long for a decent bath!'

He chuckled, and sat cross-legged on a carpet. 'Odenathus wants to marry you,' he said, coming directly to the point.

'Isn't that what you've wanted for me all along, Father?' She took up a small linen towel, and mopped where a few drops of water had spilled on her table.

'You have to marry eventually, Zenobia, but I want you to be happy. Odenathus is a wealthy, pleasant, and intelligent young man. Still, if there is someone you would prefer then it shall be as you desire, my child.'

'Only one thing concerns me about the prince,' she said. 'It distresses me that he gives in to the Romans so easily, and without a fight. I do not understand it.'

'It is quite simple, Zenobia,' Zabaai replied. 'Palmyra, as you know, was founded by Solomon the Great, King of Israel. It has always been a commercial state. We have never been interested in expansion, in taking our neighbors' lands. Our only interest is in making money, and because everyone needed us, and our talents, and because we are located here in the Syrian desert, no one bothered us. We have been friends to the world, but Rome is a conqueror, and has a conqueror's fear of her neighbors. Palmyra is an outpost for Rome against Persia, Cathay, and the Indies.

'But because we are a nation of merchants, and not soldiers, we have never been prepared to defend ourselves. After all, we have never needed to. If Odenathus ever attempts to thwart Rome, they will destroy the