Beloved

to know the birthdate; he will want reassurance. Whether I am your wife, or not, I will have to play his whore a little time longer. If you love me, and value our safety, then you must live with that knowledge. Can you? Perhaps you would prefer that we wait until we can escape to Britain.' Her gray eyes looked searchingly at him. 'Tell me true, my darling.'

For a moment Marcus looked unhappy. The mere thought of Aurelian touching Zenobia infuriated him, yet he knew she was right. If she claimed to be with child, an excited and happy emperor would demand not only proof of her condition, but more dangerous knowledge as well. Still, he did not want to wait. Even knowing that she must bed again with the emperor, Marcus wanted Zenobia for his wife-now, tonight. What she did with Aurelian would mean nothing to her, and in the years to come the memory would fade from both their minds. What she did she did for love of him, for their future together, for their descendants. 'I love you,' he said quietly. 'I do not choose to wait.' Then he took her into his arms and kissed her tenderly. 'You have always been my wife, beloved.'

She brushed the sudden tears from her cheeks. 'I think that perhaps the gods have not deserted me after all. Mayhap they were merely testing me, for this night I have found the kind of happiness that is rarely granted to any mortal.'

“Are you not Zenobia, the Queen of Palmyra?' he said. 'Are you not beloved of the gods, of your people, and of me?'

'Oh yes,' she whispered breathily at him. 'Yes, my darling, darling Marcus!' And she clung hungrily to him, looking up at him with the shining light of her love, transforming her whole being until she seemed almost luminous.

He stared down at her transfixed, totally unaware that his own love shone as brightly, infusing her with such warmth and well-being that for the first time in months she felt safe, no longer afraid. She had lived with fear these many months, although never once had she dared admit it, even to herself. Now, like a ship escaped from a terrible tempest, she was in a safe harbor.

At a noise on the path they broke apart. Into view came Dagian, Bab, and Adria.

Zenobia's elderly servant looked at Marcus with a sharp eye. 'So, Marcus Alexander Britainus, you are finally come back to us.'

'Yes, Bab, and tonight I shall claim my own.'

'It is good,' the old woman nodded.

'The slaves?' Zenobia queried her servants.

'All in their quarters, and sleeping,' Adria assured her mistress.

'Very well, then,' the queen said, and she turned to Marcus. 'Shall we begin, my darling?'

'Yes, beloved.'

So in the green, sweet-smelling garden, its flowers lightly touched by the silver glow of the quarter moon, Zenobia, the Queen of Palmyra, turned to her lover, Marcus Alexander Britainus, and said in a low but clear voice, 'When and where you are Gaius, I then and there am Gaia.' It was that simple. They were now man and wife, and he took her once more into his arms to kiss her as Dagian and Adria wiped the tears from their faces and old Bab gave a little hiccough of a sob, and then said, 'It has taken you two long enough. I thought never to live long enough to see you both wed. Now may I die in peace.'

'You are not going to die yet,' Marcus chuckled.

'No, I am not,' the old lady cackled, 'else who will teach your son manners!'

'And keep me in my place?' he teased her.

'My children,' Dagian said, 'we must separate now. None of us must allow the least suspicion to fall on Zenobia and Marcus.'

Adria and Bab nodded, and began to make their way back to the villa, while Dagian walked in the opposite direction toward her own house. The newly married pair stood hand in hand for a few minutes, talking quietly to reassure each other that they were indeed man and wife.

'Once you said you would not marry me except that it be in the bright light of day, before all; and that I should escort you with much pomp to our new home. Alas, at the moment I have no new home to escort you to, beloved.'

'How foolish I was,' she answered him.

'I should have insisted, especially when I knew I had to return to Rome. I should not have left you so unprotected, Zenobia. I will never again leave you, my darling! Go now and dream of me, beloved.' He kissed her gently once more, and then stood watching as she obediently turned and hurried back to her own villa. She would not always, he thought, somewhat amused, be that obedient.

Walking back through the garden, Zenobia's heart soared with happiness. She was his wife now, and nothing would ever part them again. She had once warned Aurelian that in the end she would win the battle between them, and now she almost had. It mattered not to her that he would not know, at least not yet. What mattered most was that she and Marcus were finally united, united now and forever; and nothing, not even death, would ever divide them again!

Part Four

The Woman

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