Beloved

Julia, cleaning the baby with warmed olive oil, looked up a moment from her task, and said, 'Your daughter is perfect, dear friend. She is an adorable little beauty.'

'Daughter? I have birthed a daughter? Surely you are mistaken, Julia. Look again! I cannot have birthed a daughter.'

'But you have, Zenobia. It is not the end of the world.'

Zenobia lay back, physically exhausted but mentally alert, as Bab, faithful Bab, removed all traces of the birth from her mistress's body. 'I shall enjoy having a little girl to take care of again,' she chortled. 'You have two fine sons, my baby. A daughter will be a comfort to you in your old age.'

She helped to support Zenobia as two of her maidens changed the linen on the queen's couch. Zenobia was restless, and demanded of Julia, 'Give me the baby. I want to look at it.' She could not yet bring herself to say 'her.'

'But a moment,' Bab protested, and she sponged her mistress with perfumed water before placing a fresh linen chamber robe on her and helping her back into bed. The covers were lightly tucked around her, and then Bab stood sternly by as Zenobia was given a nourishing beverage. The queen drank it down, grimacing.

'Why does everything that is good for me have to taste so awful?' she demanded, handing Bab the empty goblet. 'Now, bring me the baby!'

Julia approached, cradling a swaddled bundle that made soft little mewling noises. 'There you are,' she said, placing the infant in Zenobia's arms.

Zenobia turned her eyes to the child. It looked nothing like either Vaba or Demi. The baby whimpered, and looked up at her mother. Zenobia stared in shock. She had blue eyes! Her daughter had blue eyes! and the expression in them was strangely familiar. She clutched the infant to her as her head began to whirl; and in the midst of a roiling reddish darkness she heard a voice:

'/ love you. I have always loved you. I have loved you from the beginnings of time, and I shall love you long after our memories have faded from this earth.'

Her head cleared as quickly as it had grown dizzy just seconds before. 'Take it away!' she almost shrieked, holding out the bundle. 'Take it away/'

The baby began to wail, either from fright at the sound of her voice or out of some sense of her mother's rejection. Julia quickly took the child and looked strangely at Zenobia.

'What is it, my baby?' Bab hurried to the queen's side. 'What * is the matter?'

'I don't want her! I don't want her! I birth sons for my Hawk, not daughters.'

'This child is the lord Odenathus's last, and surely most precious gift to you, my baby,' Bab said sternly. 'What do you mean you don't want her? Of course you do! Your travail was long, and it has addled your wits.'

'Leave me!” Zenobia cried, 'and take it with you!'

Bab nodded to Julia, and together they hurried from the room, leaving the queen alone. Zenobia lay very still, but her mind was almost boiling with confusion. The voice she had heard had been that of Marcus Britainus! The half-images of memory began to grow whole as she concentrated with all her might, endeavoring to discover the key that would unlock this mystery. The key, however, eluded her, and coupled with the hard birth, she fell into an exhausted sleep.

When she awoke several hours later it was deepest night. The lamps had been trimmed and lowered and now cast flickering shadows on the walls, ceiling, and floor. The early-spring night was yet cool, and she drew her covers about her. She had remembered. She remembered all of that hot, hot July night that Odenathus had died. She remembered how she had willingly given herself to Marcus Britainus; and how he had made tender, passionate, marvelous love to her.

'I love you,' he had said. 'I have always loved you. I have loved you from the beginnings of time, and I shall love you long after our memories have faded from this earth.'

The power in that commitment was in itself overwhelming. The child of course was his. There was no way it could have been Odenathus's daughter. Did he know? More important, who else knew? 'Adria!' she called to the slave girl who lay sleeping on the floor at the foot of her bed. 'Adria, awake!'

The girl scrambled to her feet, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. 'Yes, Majesty? What is your wish?'

'Fetch old Bab,' Zenobia commanded, 'and then fetch Cassius Longinus. Hurry, girl!'

The slave girl ran from the room.

Zenobia willed her mind blank for the next few minutes. Then the door to her bedchamber opened, and old Bab hurried in, demanding, 'Are you all right, my baby? What is it?'

'I have sent for Cassius Longinus,' Zenobia replied. 'We will talk when he arrives. Be sure no one lingers about my door to hear us. Do you understand?'

Bab nodded.

The door opened again, and Cassius Longinus entered, looking slightly disheveled. 'Majesty.'

'Adria, I would speak privately. I will not need you again this night. Go to the women's quarters and sleep.'

'I obey, Majesty,' the girl replied as she backed from the room. Bab held the door to the bedchamber open to be sure the girl departed the anteroom, and did not linger to eavesdrop. The guards at the entry to the apartment would let no one else enter. She turned back to Zenobia.

The queen looked from Cassius Longinus to Bab. 'The child is not Odenathus's,' she said, watching for their reaction.

'Nevertheless,' was Longinus's quick reply, 'no one is likely to suspect the child's paternity, Majesty. The little princess is not apt ever to inherit the throne, and so the dynasty remains unsullied.'

'You knew from the beginning, both of you,' Zenobia said.

'I knew. Bab suspected, although she hoped her suspicions would come to naught. Once we had talked we both understood the truth of the matter.'

'Does he know?'

'No,' Longinus said. 'I thought it best he did not.'

'You thought it best?' Her voice was chilly, but he was not intimidated.

'What happened was the result of your shock over the king's death; and then your mind blocked out the incident. I could not tell you the truth of the matter for fear of endangering your health or that of the child. You are Queen of Palmyra. It is what you were born for, your destiny! I do not know if he can readily accept that if you become lovers.'

'It was not your decision to make!' Zenobia said furiously.

'You could not make it!' he countered. 'I but sought to protect you and the young king! Would you really give this all up simply to lie beneath your lover? I do not think so, Majesty. You may love him, but first and foremost you are Zenobia, Queen of Palmyra.'

'Can I not have both?' Her eyes were fast filling with tears.

'That depends on Marcus Britainus, Majesty. You, I know, can both love and rule. It is he who must love you despite the fact you are the queen. I do not think it will be easy for him, Majesty.'

'He must know that Mavia is his daughter,' Zenobia said.

'Mavia?' they both exclaimed.

'My daughter,' was the queen's reply. 'I have decided to call her Mavia.'

'Is it really necessary to tell him?' Cassius Longinus looked distressed.

'Oh, Longinus, you fret too much,' Zenobia said softly. 'I cannot keep such a thing from him, and besides, she looks like him. Her hair is reddish, and her eyes quite blue.'

'All babies have blue eyes,' Longinus said hopefully.

'Not this color blue. Mavia's eyes are the same blue as her father's, even to the same expression.'

'He cannot publicly acknowledge her. Even now there are yet those who would discredit you, and remove you from the regency.'

'I am sure that Marcus will be as anxious as we all are to protect Mavia, Longinus.' She turned to old Bab. 'Is Marcus Britainus within the palace tonight?'

'Aye, my baby. He is even now sleeping in his apartments.'

'Fetch him secretly, Bab. When he is safely here you must bring my daughter to me.'

'I will go,' the old woman said, and hurried out.