She was instantly furious at herself, and shot him a withering look, but to her surprise he was no longer looking at her. What on earth was the matter with her? she wondered.
'Are you satisfied now?' asked Marcus, suddenly at her side. 'It is obvious that he loves her.'
'Yes,' Zenobia answered slowly. 'It will be a good marriage, and I am glad for Julia.' She took a goblet of wine offered by a slave, as did Marcus.
'Would I offend you, Majesty, if I told you that you were the most beautiful woman in this room, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my entire life, in all my travels.'
For a moment her heart beat so quickly that she could not catch her breath to speak. Finally she managed to say, 'Why do you say such a thing to me, Marcus Britainus?'
'Why should it embarrass you that I speak a truth,' he said. 'Are we not good enough friends after all these years that I may say what I feel to you, offer a compliment?'
'You have never said such things to me, Marcus Britainus. I am merely surprised.'
'The wine makes me bold,' he teased gently, and then he said softly so only she might hear, 'Zenobia, look at me.'
Surprised, she raised her eyes to him. Never before bad he dared to use her name. His blue eyes, seeming to devour her, held her prisoner, and she was mesmerized while a strange heat swept over her body, rendering her almost helpless.
'Are you a sorcerer too, Marcus Britainus?' she finally said, very shaken.
'Only a man, Majesty,' was the reply. 'I am only a man.'
She thought about the incident later that night after all the festivities were over. Longinus, who had observed the little encounter between his mistress and Marcus Britainus, had not left her side for the rest of the day; but he said nothing, for he could see that she was disturbed.
She was restless that night. Each time she drifted off she would see his face with its high cheekbones, strong jaw, long nose, and those blue eyes that caressed and blazed down at her until she awoke, drenched in her own sweat, her heart pounding. I have been too long without my Hawk, she thought with strangely clear logic. I seem to be a woman who cannot get along without a man.
It would have disturbed Zenobia even more had she known that Marcus also lay awake that night. His passion for her had not abated, but rather grown over the years. Often he questioned himself as to whether it was simply because he could not possess her, but the answer was always the same. He loved her.
He had chided himself even as he had said the provocative words that risked his entire relationship with her. It had been a rash thing to do, but for once he had longed for Zenobia to look at him like a man, and not a teacher. When his eyes had held hers in thrall that morning he had yearned to sweep her into his arms, to kiss her marvelous ripe mouth, to caress her beautiful body until she swooned with rapture. Then he had seen her frightened eyes, and he had released his hold upon her. Why had she feared him? Was it possible that she was finally realizing that there was more to him than just history lessons?
Marcus stretched his long body as he sought to find a more comfortable position. He smiled ruefully. How unlike the bold and licentious women of Rome Zenobia was. She was still an innocent, and it was his misfortune to have fallen in love with her. A man of less character might have attempted to seduce her, but it was not in his nature to entrap or force a woman. The men he knew in Rome, men who practiced their new morality with lustful gusto, would have laughed at him for a fool.
Zenobia did not see Marcus for several days, and then she was only momentarily uncomfortable. He, however, seemed not to notice as he intently described Roman Britain to her. She would never know the effort it took him to appear so totally impersonal.
Odenathus returned home victorious over the Persians, who had fled back across their borders to lick their wounds. It was autumn, and the Bedawi again left the oasis city to wander the desert while the great caravans traveled in and out of Palmyra with their varied goods. The king confirmed his wife's temporary appointment of Cassius Longinus as a member of the council. The government ran smoothly.
'I have long wanted to get rid of Publius Cato, but there was simply no reason for me to dismiss him.' He chuckled. 'The gossip tells me that Publius Cato had bragged that I would reappoint him when I returned to Palmyra.'
'He will not thank you for making him a laughingstock, my Hawk. It might be wise to offer him some harmless, but seemingly important post.'
He hugged her lovingly. 'I shall take your suggestion, Zenobia. The man who collects the taxes upon the silk from Cathay has recently died. We shall offer Publius Cato this post, although I doubt that those who import the silk thread to dye will thank us.'
'I have a feeling that they will cope a great deal more easily with Publius Cato than the government has been able to do,' Zenobia replied.
'You have done so well while I was gone,' he complimented her. 'Marius Gracchus himself told me-and compliments from that old fox do not come easily or often. Although the council was fearful of my departure, now they feel that I may meet my obligations as Rome's commander of the eastern legions without endangering Palmyra.' He grimaced. 'I am not sure that I should not be worried, Zenobia,- for if you prove a more adept ruler than I they could depose me.'
'I could do nothing if I did not know you were coming home to me, my Hawk!' she answered fervently.
'There might come a time when you have to, my flower. Oh, I do not mean to frighten you, but no man, even a king, is impervious to an opponent's spear, an enemy's arrow. If I should die before Vaballathus is old enough to rule in his own right, you would be regent of this city, its ruler.'
'You will not die in battle. It is not your fate, I know it!'
He kissed her slowly. 'Sorceress,' he murmured against her mouth. 'What spells do you weave to keep me safe?' His hands slipped beneath her robes to caress her silky skin.
'No Hawk!' she protested. 'I yet have something to discuss with you.'
'Is it more important than our love?' he said, fondling a ripe breast.
She squirmed away reluctantly. 'It concerns our love, my Hawk. I love you with all my heart, and you, I know, love me. Still, Deliciae remains your concubine although you have not favored her in several years. Have you any idea how unhappy she is?'
He looked curiously at her. 'Are you suggesting that I return to her bed?'
'If you do I shall scratch both your eyes out!' Zenobia said with mock anger. 'No, my Hawk, that is not the answer. While you were away, Deliciae and I were much together, and one night she confided to me how unhappy she is. She is grateful to you, of course, but she longs for what we have. She wants a husband, and she wants other children. She has been loyal many years, and she deserves to be rewarded.'
'Deliciae really wants this?' he asked.
'Yes.'
'And have you chosen a candidate for her hand?'
'Rufus Curius, the commander of Qasr-al-Her.'
'How did you arrive at that choice?' His voice was somewhat strained.
'It was Longinus's suggestion. He tells me that Rufus Curius is the first Palmyran-born centurion to command our border fortress. He says that Rufus Curius is a good man who will be a model husband for Deliciae and a fine foster father for Linos and Vermis.'
'How can you ask me to relinquish my sons?' he demanded of her, and Zenobia was truly shocked by the anguish in his voice.
'I know how you love Linos and Vermis,' she answered him, 'but you do them no kindness by keeping them here in Palmyra at the palace. They have already begun asking why their half-brother, Vaballathus, is your heir instead of one of them. Your mother does not help, either, for she encourages this attitude in them. Reason cannot aid us, for logic will not prevail over emotion.'
