Beloved

He chuckled at the fine disjunction between his question and her answer.

A slave brought them breakfast, and he noted with some amusement that her irritation had not affected her appetite. She neatly peeled and sectioned a small orange, which she then placed in a little bowl and covered with yogurt. A thick slice of freshly baked bread was lavishly spread with honey and set upon the red Arrentine pottery plate with two hard-boiled eggs and a handful of plump, ripe black olives. Totally ignoring him, she proceeded to consume this bounty, washing it down with a goblet of pomegranate juice. Then, without so much as a word to him, she rose up and left the tent. He wanted to laugh, but Zenobia's dignity was already worn thin and the emperor needed her cooperation.

To drag her shrieking into Palmyra would not win the city's sympathy, and even the young king might think differently about cooperating with Rome under those circumstances. He was, after all, her son, for all her usurpation of his office. He wanted her walking under her own power behind him, in a gesture that all of Palmyra would understand. Seeing her acceptance of Rome, the citizenry would then bow their own necks to the imperial yoke. Let her walk off her bad temper and come to terms with herself before his triumph. Had their positions been reversed she would, he knew, have treated him no differently. Let her be aware of that. Having settled it in his own mind, Aurelian proceeded to eat his own breakfast.

When he had finished he called for Gaius Cicero. 'You are responsible for the queen,' he said quietly. 'I do not believe you will have any difficulty with her. We have spoken this morning, and she understands my wishes completely. You will see that she is in her place behind my chariot as I enter into Palmyra.'

'Yes, Caesar!' came the dutiful answer.

At the appointed hour the Roman army was drawn up in full formation before the main gates of Palmyra. At their front was Aurelian in his battle chariot, looking eminently powerful and regal. His gold breastplate, with its raised design of Mars, the god of war, in various victories, gleamed in the morning sunlight; his long red military cloak blew gently in the faint breeze; but his elegant helmet could not hide the stern features of his face. He stood tall, erect, quiet. Behind him his waiting legions shuffled nervously.

The emperor turned to see Zenobia, in her place behind his chariot, turning away from his gaze. The gods! he silently cursed. Just to look at her aroused his desire. She wore no mourning this day, but rather was dressed as she had been the first day his army had arrived at Palmyra's gates those months back. In her golden kalasiris she looked no more like a beaten adversary than a bird of paradise. Her collar of rubies, rose quartz, and diamonds glittered brightly, its brilliance echoed by her golden circlet of vine leaves with their ribboned brilliants. She was in truth a golden goddess incarnate, and she had managed by her dress to change the lesson he had intended to teach the people of Palmyra.

A tiny smile twitched his lips, softening for a moment his stern features. She had somehow turned another defeat into a victory for herself. He would remember that. He had once accused her of being overproud, and by the gods she could give lessons in it! He turned back to face the gates of Palmyra, and as if his look were a signal, they began to slowly open.

Aurelian felt tense. He wondered if they would choose to fight at the last minute. Usually the walls of the city were crowded with spectators, but this morning not one person was to be seen upon them. He could plainly hear the creak of protest from the gate's hinges as it yawned wider and wider. Once open, the entry to Palmyra resembled a gaping mouth void of teeth.

Then from out of the entry came a man in a simple white linen tunic and a red-and-white-striped toga bordered in purple. In his hands he carried the symbolic gold keys to the city. With great dignity the man made his way forward to stand before Aurelian's chariot. 'Hail, Caesar!' he said in a loud voice. 'I am Cassius Longinus, the king's chief advisor. On His Majesty's instructions I present to you the keys to Palmyra.'

'Where is the king?' demanded the emperor.

'His Majesty awaits you at the palace, Caesar. The young queen was ill this day, and as they are recently wed, the king would not leave her side.'

Aurelian raised an eyebrow. No wonder Zenobia was loath to let the boy rule. A king who put his woman before his position was certainly doomed. 'Walk beside your queen, Cassius Longinus, as I enter the city. I assume your main avenue leads to the royal palace.'

'It does, Caesar.' Longinus moved behind the chariot to where Zenobia stood. 'Majesty,' he said low. 'Thank the gods you are safe!'

'By rights, Longinus, I should be dead now but that my son has forgotten his duty.'

He put a comforting hand upon her. 'We will talk later,' he said, and then they moved forward.

The Roman legionnaires jogged along nervously, facing straight ahead, their eyes shifting from right to left. The streets were quiet and empty, the shops closed, the people seemingly nonexistent. An unnatural silence hung over the city as Aurelian and his army made their way down the main avenue.

It was a wide avenue, fully able to accommodate four large chariots. The avenue was paved with interlocking blocks of black and white marble, and lined with magnificent white marble pillars that supported the roofs over the walkways in front of the shops and houses. Driving his chariot at a sedate pace, Aurelian was able to take it all in. He was impressed by the city's cleanliness and its graffiti-free statues, quite unlike Rome's.

Behind him Zenobia spoke quietly to Longinus. 'Where are the people, Longinus?'

'At the council's suggestion, Majesty, they decided it would be better not to show themselves when the Romans entered the city.'

'Not the king's suggestion?'

He hesitated, and that hesitation told her all she need know. The king fears for the city's safety,' Longinus attempted to excuse Vaballathus.

'Please thank the council for me, Longinus. I must assume that I will be kept from them.'

'Has he said what he means to do about the government, Majesty?'

'Government has not been the main focus of our discussions,' Zenobia said somewhat wryly.

Cassius Longinus flushed. 'Majesty…' he gestured helplessly.

'I know, Longinus. It is the way of war, and for all my rank I am nought but a woman in the eyes of the victorious general from Rome.'

'He has not hurt you?' Longinus looked concerned.

'Only my pride, old friend, and that, as you are well aware, is great. I expect I can spare a small piece for Aurelian to play with.' She chuckled. 'Despite my status as the defeated queen I seem to continue winning small battles.' She gestured gracefully, and he smiled back at her.

'The city would have died for you, Majesty!'

'I know that, Longinus. Perhaps, however, I have been wrong. I have been told that I have not the right to ask that of my people. In the end what is important? That Palmyra survive! I took my chance with Rome, and I lost.' She sighed sadly, and had he not known her better, he would have sworn that he saw a tear in her eye.

'They will probably exile you, Majesty.'

'I know, Longinus, but if Vaba can remain here to rule, then Odenathus's dynasty continues. There will come another time, another age, another Palmyran king, and we will finally be free!'

'Do you really think that the emperor will leave Vaba here?'

'Vaba is hardly a threat to Rome. His ploy of not coming to give Aurelian the keys to the city because of the young queen's indisposition was a brilliant stroke. He has made himself look like a lovesick young fool who puts a woman above duty. That should give Rome a solid feeling of security.'

Ahead of them Aurelian suddenly stopped his chariot and, turning about, called to Zenobia, 'Come, goddess, and ride with me. We both know it does no good for you to walk behind me in defeat if no one is looking to see your defeat. You, too, Cassius Longinus. Perhaps you can enlighten me as to why Palmyra appears so deserted.' He reached down to her and, taking her outstretched arm, pulled her up, sliding an arm about her waist as she reached the chariot floor. Longinus was left to draw himself up by means of the handhold.

Once they were all safely within the chariot, Aurelian let the reins loosen a bit, and his cloud-white horses pranced forward again. The emperor turned his blue eyes upon Cassius Longinus. 'Well?' he said. 'Why is the city in hiding?'

'Palmyra loves its queen, Caesar. We will not be party to her shame.'

Aurelian smiled coldly. 'Palmyra has no queen,' he said, and felt Zenobia shiver in his tight grasp. But when he looked over at her, she was staring straight ahead, seemingly unperturbed. Leaning over, he murmured against her ear, and the heady hyacinth fragrance she always wore battered his senses. 'What sorcery is this, goddess, that