Beloved

'It has to be at Cassius Longinus's house in the city. Longinus's little friend, Oppian, has been giving Demi and his friends occasional shelter, although I doubt that Longinus was aware of it. He left the boy alone as he did not want him here at the palace, and Oppian was lonely for the company of other young men. I am sure that Longinus willed the house to him, and equally sure you will find Demi there. Or at least Oppian will know where he is.'

Zenobia turned to speak to Bab, but the old woman forestalled her, raising up her hand, and said, 'I am already gone. I shall bring him back when I find him.'

Zenobia sent a message to Aurelian asking that she be allowed the traditional mourning period. To her surprise, he sent back an immediate reply by his personal secretary, Durantis, agreeing to her request, but stipulating that she keep to her own apartments and own garden. She assented. She knew that he acquiesced because it suited him, not her. He probably needed the time to consolidate his victory. With Vaballathus deposed, the Council of Ten dead, and the queen out of sight, Palmyra would naturally turn to Roman authority.

It was late that night when old Bab returned, and she was alone. 'He is mere,' she said, 'but he will not come to the palace. He fears a trap.'

'He said that?' Zenobia was furious.

'He does not distrust you,' Bab quickly assured her, 'but he fears a Roman trap. There is no one left you may rely upon, he says, now that the council is dead.'

'Did you use the secret gate in the garden?' Zenobia asked Bab.

'I did, and I was seen by no one. I am not so old that my eyes and ears cannot see or hear properly.'

'Then if you can get out, so can I,' Zenobia said.

'That is just what Prince Demetrius said!' Bab replied. 'He said that you must come tonight, however, for after tonight the Roman is sure to put a watch on you. Tonight he will assume you too devastated to take any kind of action. We will have to walk, my baby, but at this very minute two of Prince Demi's men are waiting for us outside the palace to escort us in safety.'

'Adria!' Zenobia called, and the young slave girl came instantly.

'Majesty?'

'You heard?'

'Yes, Majesty.'

'I want you and Bab to remain here. You will sit outside my bedchamber door as if keeping watch. Bab will sit inside my chamber by my bed; a bed that will appear to have a sleeping woman in it. Should the emperor come you will do your best to prevent his entering my room, but should he ignore you, then Bab will handle it. Do you understand?'

'Yes, Majesty.' Adria smiled. 'It will be a pleasure to deceive the Roman dogs!'

Zenobia looked with new eyes upon her young servant. Until recently she had not given the girl a great deal of attention, but of late Adria had shown intelligence and loyalty more worthy of a freed woman than a slave. 'From this moment on, Adria, you are no longer a slave,' Zenobia said quietly. 'Tomorrow I shall have the papers drawn up freeing you.'

'Majesty!' Adria's usually plain, round face was suddenly pretty with her joy, and her brown eyes were filled with tears of happiness. Dropping to her knees, she caught at the hem of Zenobia's gown. Raising it to her lips, she kissed it fervently and said, 'I will never leave you, Majesty! I would not want to leave you, for you are goodness itself! Thank you! Thank you!'

Zenobia gently touched the girl's strangely beautiful brown-gold hair, and said, 'Get up, Adria. I must go.'

'I do not like you going alone,' Bab fretted.

Zenobia did not argue with her. She simply said, 'I can move far quicker without you,' and Bab was forced to agree. Without another word she swaddled Zenobia in a long, totally enveloping, hooded black cape, and watched with worried old eyes as her mistress went swiftly through the bedchamber door, out into the darkness.

Zenobia picked her way through the blackness of her garden, for there was no moon this night. She could not be quite sure where the little hidden door lay, and so she carefully felt her way along the vined wall until her hands made contact with the smooth, ancient wood. Reaching up, she found the key upon its hook. She unlocked the door, slipped through, and relocked it from the other side before returning the key to her robes. Turning, she stood very still and listened, her sharp ears attuned to the desert night. To her right she could hear faint breathing. Turning, she followed the small sound.

'Majesty?' tame the voice in the darkness.

'Lead on,' she commanded softly, and then followed the two retreating shadows down the street. Together, the three moved swiftly through the back streets of the city, carefully avoiding the watchful Roman patrols. They did not speak until at last they stood before a garden wall. 'We will have to scale it, Majesty,' one of the shadows whispered.

'Very well,' she agreed, and the first young man leapt upon the shoulders of the second, and reaching down slightly pulled Zenobia upward until she was even with him. Then he carefully placed her on the top of the wall, joined her, and leaning down again pulled the second man up. 'I can get down myself,' the queen said, and leapt down into the garden of Cassius Longinus's house, landing in, from the smell of it, a bed of tangy herbs. The two shadows upon the wall joined her quickly, then led her through the garden and into the darkened house.

Once inside the house, she was taken down a flight of stone steps into the catacombs beneath it. There, in a torchlit underground room, she found herself among a large group of young men, many of whom she recognized as coming from the city's greatest patrician and commercial families. Seeing her, they instantly came to attention, their right arms raised in salute as they cried out, 'Hail Zenobia! Hail, Queen of Palmyra!'

She graciously acknowledged them, and then the group parted, and Demetrius came forward to embrace his mother. She was amazed by the difference in his appearance from when she had left Palmyra several weeks back. His face was suddenly more mature, his stature positively regal. 'Welcome, my Mother. Welcome to the Brotherhood of the Palm.'

Zenobia did not choose to mince words: 'If you think to please me or the King by your futile rebellion, you do not.'

'What?' Demi demanded imperiously. 'Have you become the Roman's champion as well as his lover, my Queen?'

A hundred pairs of young eyes swung to look upon Zenobia.

'You are as impetuous as your brother, Demi,' Zenobia said in an amused tone, though she was feeling far from amused. She turned to allow her gaze to encompass them all. 'Surely you do not really believe you can force the Romans from Palmyra? What is it you hope to accomplish?'

'We want Vaba reinstated,' Demi said in a loud voice. 'He may not be the best of kings, but he is a Palmyran king. We want no Roman governor, Mother.'

The young men in the room nodded, and murmured their agreement.

'I want Vaba reinstated, too, Demi, but the Romans cannot be forced from Palmyra, and the city is going to have to endure a military governor for the next several years. In time I will return Vaba to Palmyra as its king. It cannot be done overnight, but I will get it done! Trust me, all of you!' The queen held out her hands in appeal, and the young men in the torchlit room looked as if they might waver.

Then Demi's voice sounded, fierce and angry. 'No! I will not have you prostitute yourself to the Romans, Mother! Vaba must be reinstated now. If he leaves Palmyra they will never let him back, and this city will not endure foreign rule!'

'What do you know of foreign rule?' Zenobia demanded furiously. 'Since before your birth the city has been free, but before you and Vaba the Romans ruled here for over a hundred years and Palmyra survived: as did our family. Do you think this city suffered under Antonius Porcius, Demi? We will bide our time again, and in the end we will win again; but you cannot drive the Romans away!'

'They will go! We will fight them in the streets unto the last man, but we shall not let them have the city!'

'Your actions will destroy Vaba's chances, but perhaps that is your real motive. Perhaps you believe that if you cannot have the city then your brother will not, either. Is this how I have raised you? To be a betrayer of your family, of Palmyra?' The room was deathly silent now, and Zenobia looked upon the eager faces before her. 'I appeal to you, my sons!' she said, her look sweeping them all. 'Have patience, and Palmyra will be ours again.'