As she continued to give detailed instructions to Longinus, Antonius Porcius moved next to Marcus Britainus and said softly, 'What do you know of this?'
Marcus's face was grim. 'Nothing,' he answered. 'I have always avoided being involved in imperial politics. I can only suppose that the weak fool, Gallienus, made wild accusations in one of his drunken moods; but how he managed to involve Linos and Vernus, I do not know.'
'It is obvious that there is an imperial spy here in Palmyra,' was the reply.
Marcus looked at Antonius Porcius in surprise. 'I am not an imperial spy,' he said.
Al-Zena chose that moment to re-enter the room. She walked slowly over to the fallen body of her son and gently smoothed his brow. Odenathus's face was peaceful in death, and although he was but thirty-eight, he looked much younger. Sorrow had etched deep lines in his mother's once proud face, and she who so valued her appearance was oblivious to the fact that her face was dirty with tears. Sadly she shook her head. 'I had him such a little time,' she said.
Zenobia moved over to her mother-in-law and, in the first gesture of affection that she had ever shown the woman, put her arm about her shoulders. 'I do not understand it,' she said to Al-Zena, 'but surely it is the will of the gods. Why else would this man be taken from us?' Gently she led the grieving woman back to the door, calling to old Bab, who had been in the dining room all along. 'Take her to Ala, and stay if you are needed.'
Bab nodded and, putting an arm around Al-Zena's waist, led the woman off down the corridor.
Rufus Curius re-entered the room. Turning to him, Zenobia said, 'Rufus Curius, I am placing the king and his brother in your charge. See to their safety.'
'You can trust me after what happened?' The centurion's eyes misted.
'I do not blame you, Rufus Curius. The damage was done to Linos and Vernus before you became their foster father. I know you did your best, and I thank the gods you have your own children, that Deliciae has something to live for despite this tragedy. Please now, escort my sons to their quarters and arrange that some of the men of my guard watch over them. Then see to your wife, for I know tonight's events have left her devastated.'
Rufus Curius saluted his queen, and then bowed to the young king and his brother. 'If your Majesty will allow me I will escort you and Prince Demetrius to your apartments.'
Demi hurled himself into his mother's arms, weeping, and Zenobia soothed him as best she could, kissing away his tears and chiding him gently that his father would want him to be brave. Firmly she disengaged his hold about her neck, and placed his small hand into the centurion's big one. Young Vaba bowed in a courtly way before his mother, his face grave. 'Good night, Mother.'
Zenobia reached out and, pulling him to her breast, hugged him tightly. 'Good night, my lord,' she said, her voice strangely tight. He drew away from her and, nodding to Rufus Curius to go, almost ran from the room.
Watching him go, she sighed. He was so young to have this responsibility thrust upon him; yet a boy. Tonight his childhood had ended-or had it? Was it really necessary for Vaba, only twelve, to be laden with such responsibility? Perhaps she could give him a year or two more before she must teach him how to be king. He would be the better for it, she knew.
The council began arriving, staring at first in shocked fascination at the dead body of their king. Only when they had all come did Zenobia give the order that her husband's body be removed and prepared for its funeral. 'Sit down,' she commanded, and they quickly obeyed her, seeking seats about the dining table. 'I am appointing Antonius Porcius to the Council of Ten to replace the king; and Marcus Britainus will have temporary command of Palmyra's legions. Are there are objections?' Her gaze swept them.
'Antonius Porcius has long been a resident of this city,' Marius Gracchus said. 'Although he was not bom here, he chose to remain upon his retirement. He has married into one of our most distinguished families. I can find no fault with the queen's choice. In the matter of Marcus Britainus, however, I am confused as to why the queen has chosen him over a Palmy ran officer.'
'The king trusted him,' was the reply, 'and so do I. He has had several years of military experience with the Praetorian, and it is precisely because he is a Roman that I have chosen him. Rome trusted my husband, and gave him great powers. With his death I do not want them sending someone from Rome to oversee our armies. Rome will not find any fault in my choice, and we shall be left alone.'
'Then it only waits for Marcus Britainus to accept your appointment,' Marius Gracchus replied. He looked directly at the Roman, his glance searching and not entirely trusting.
Marcus was totally surprised by Zenobia's decision, and he could see the hostility in many on the Council of Ten. He wasn't sure exactly what it was she was asking him to do. Vaba was far too young to take over his father's command, and Rome was eventually going to send someone out. Obviously she wanted a little time to organize the government. He could aid her without being disloyal to Rome; but more important, he would have constant access to her.
'Marcus Britainus.' Her voice was soft as she fixed her wonderful gray eyes on him. 'Marcus Britainus, will you accept?'
'Of course, Majesty. I am honored at the faith you have in me.'
'It is settled, then,' she said, and only Longinus, who knew her best, heard the relief in her voice. 'Now we must get to the succession. Those who were with us this evening heard my husband name our eldest son, Vaballathus Septimius, his heir, the next king. The Council of Ten must honor Odenathus's dying request.'
'What of the king's elder sons?'
Zenobia froze, her eyes darkening with anger, and she looked at a council member named Quintus Urbicus. 'Do you refer to the king's two bastards?' Her voice was icy. 'They are both dead.' The council gasped. 'The eldest, Linos,' Zenobia continued, 'was responsible for his father's death; the younger was guilty also. They killed the king, Quintus Urbicus, and it was a miracle that they did not kill all of us! There were five women, and ten children here this night. Ten children including Palmyra's rightful heir!'
'Prince Vaballathus is only twelve, my Queen.'
'It is true that
'This is a dangerous situation,' said Macro Cursor, another council member. 'A child king is always vulnerable. He cannot be allowed to rule until he is of age. If the king's older sons are dead, and unavailable to us, then the Council of Ten must take over for our boy king.' He looked around the table for support, but only Quintus Urbicus seemed in open agreement with him.
Antonius Porcius cleared his throat. 'We cannot have ten people ruling Palmyra. It would lead to chaos; and in the end Rome would send another governor. It only remains for us to choose a regent to rule in the king's place until he is of age. What more natural choice can we make than to appoint the queen regent of Palmyra. The king wanted it so.'
'Antonius Porcius is correct.' The speaker was Marius Gracchus. 'The queen is a perfect choice for regent. Rome will accept her, for she is a known quantity to them, and with a former Praetorian officer in charge of the legion…' He allowed them all to absorb the obvious. 'When you think on it, my friends,' he continued, 'the queen is the only logical choice. She has an excellent grasp of government, and has ruled well in our late king's many absences. Does anyone else wish to put forward another candidate for this post?' His gaze swept the table. 'Then I can assume there is no need for us to vote on this, and that the matter is settled. Queen Zenobia will rule in her son's stead until he is of age.' Marius Gracchus looked again to the queen, and then sat down.
Zenobia stood and faced them all. 'I will rule alone for the next two years,' she said bluntly. 'My son needs more time to grow. He will attend council meetings only once a month, but of course will be present on all state occasions. My husband's body will lie in state tomorrow, and be buried the following day.'
'It will be as the queen has said,' Marius Gracchus intoned.
'I thank you all for coming,' Zenobia said. 'The council is now dismissed, Longinus and Marcus Britainus to remain for a moment. Good night.'
No sooner had they gone than Zenobia's face crumbled, and she began to cry. Longinus dismissed the guard and, turning back to her, was not surprised to see his queen held firmly in Marcus Britainus's strong arms. For some minutes she sobbed her grief, and Longinus could hear the Roman's voice softly comforting the woman. What a remarkable creature she was, he thought. Never once in the few hours since Odenathus's death had she allowed herself one moment of weakness. She had been firm and resolute, even ruthless, taking charge of the very dangerous situation. She was amazing!
