"You see, Marcus, I know the history of Zenobia's youth. I know how she has hated Rome for the murder of her mother. I know how, as a child, she watched her mother's murderers as they slowly died. I know how after Odenathus's death your love for each other grew, and her hate subsided; but that hate is still there, Marcus. It exists just below the surface, waiting to be rekindled. I intend to rekindle Zenobia's hatred of Rome. Her cooperation does not serve my purposes.

"I do not want Palmyra ruled by a client king. I want it returned to a Roman governorship, as it was in the great days of the empire. I want to return imperial Rome to her glory, and I have already begun with the resubjugation of Gaul. In the East Zenobia has kindly subdued all, and now I will subdue her!"

"She has shown no disloyalty, Caesar. You have no just cause."

"I will have," Aurelian smiled. "When Palmyra's queen hears that her lover, the man she expected to marry, has married another…" he chuckled, and then said, "I expect that her fury will know no bounds. She will want to revenge herself on Rome once more, and believe me, Marcus, she will try. When she does I will do what any Roman emperor would do when faced with a threat to the empire. Your fair Zenobia will walk in golden chains behind my victory chariot, Marcus. A year, two at the most if she is as good as they tell me she is in battle, but she will crown my triumph, and settle me firmly upon the throne sooner or later. The empire will be preserved." He paused, looking at the stunned faces of his audience. "It is but an added bonus that she is beautiful. I always enjoy making love to beautiful women, especially if they are intelligent as well."

"If you touch Zenobia…" Marcus suddenly had come to life again.

"My dear Marcus, you're a married man with a pregnant wife. For shame, dear boy!" He chuckled indulgently. "Oh, you may have her back when I am through with her… if she wants to go to you. Of course, I imagine she will be quite piqued with you. Quite piqued, indeed." He looked to Dagian. "I can trust you to look after my little Carissa, Lady Dagian? A young woman having her first child needs the comfort of an older woman."

"I assumed that was why you forbade me exit from Rome, Caesar. If you had but told me it would have saved me a great deal of packing and unpacking," Dagian said tartly.

"I will allow you to return to Britain when Carissa is safely delivered and Zenobia of Palmyra is properly beaten. You have my word on it, Lady Dagian. Until then you must content yourself to remain with your eldest son."

"As Caesar wills it," Dagian replied acidly.

Aurelian chuckled again, then spoke once more to Marcus.

"I do not think the city is good for Carissa right now. You have two days in which to pack all you need, and then you will depart for an imperial villa in Tivoli. You will be forbidden Rome once you leave. Only when I have the Eastern provinces firmly under imperial control again will you be allowed to return to the city."

"My business requires I remain in Rome, Caesar. I will give you my word not to leave the city, but you cannot exile me from it."

"You have sold your father's trading business to Julius Rabirius, Marcus. I know that he has agreed to broker for both you and your brother. You may communicate with him, of course, but be advised that every message you send will be read by me before it goes on its way. I will allow you no chance to warn your queen of my plans for her-and the Eastern Empire."

"Are we restricted to your villa, Caesar?"

"I think for the time being, Marcus, that it would be wisest." He rose from the chair in which he had been sitting and stopped before Dagian, who remained seated in a gesture of disrespect he did not miss. Aurelian smiled brightly and bowed to her. "Good day to you, Lady Dagian. I hope I shall see you soon again. Come, Marcus, walk out with me."

The two men left the study, and moved into the atrium. "Make no mistake, Marcus," the emperor said quietly. "If you attempt to warn Zenobia of my plans, or plot against me, or embarrass my family, I will act swiftly. Do you understand, Marcus?"

"Yes," was the terse reply.

"Good," Aurelian said. "Now I have a project for you to do. I want a detailed map of Palmyra, and her border fort, Qasr-al-Hêr."

"The gods curse you, Aurelian!" Marcus swore angrily. "It is bad enough that you make it appear to Zenobia that I have betrayed her. Must you also see that I do so in fact as well?"

"I wish to take Palmyra with as little bloodshed as possible. A blackened city with a dead populace is of no use to us. Your lovely queen will fight me to the last man if I let her. It is her reputation to do so. If I can prevent this I would prefer it so."

"Caesar. I cannot betray Palmyra any more than I could betray Rome."

"I understand," the emperor replied, and then with a quick nod he was gone.

With a deep sigh Marcus returned to his study. Dagian was gone, and he was alone. Wearily he sat down, reached for the wine, and poured himself a full goblet, which he quickly drained and as quickly refilled. He stared into the dark red liquid, which mirrored his own face, severe with sleeplessness and worry. He was trapped. If Dagian had been allowed to leave Rome perhaps he might have made a run for it; but, of course, Aurelian had had no intention of allowing it. He drained the second goblet, and felt its warmth beginning to suffuse his body.

The emperor was correct in all he said. When Zenobia learned of his marriage to Carissa, she would, of course, assume another Roman betrayal. If only Longinus could hold her in check… But in his heart he knew that Longinus would not be able to do so. Hurt, she would seek to hurt.

Oh, beloved, he thought sadly, Aurelian will eventually crush you, for never have I known such a determined man. But then, you are a determined woman. Perhaps you will prevail over him if the gods will but allow. May they guard you, and protect you now, my beloved, for I cannot.

Marcus sipped at the wine, sinking deeper into depression until suddenly he realized that to give in even in the face of such incredible odds was totally out of character for him. Never in his life had he allowed self-pity to gain the upper hand. Never in all the years that he had yearned for Zenobia, then another man's wife, had he ever given up hope. He would not give it up now! Not even now!

Resolutely he stood up, feeling the wine in his head and swaying.

"You're drunk," came the petulant voice from the door.

"And you are fat, Carissa," came the scathing reply. "Your uncle is correct. It coarsens you." He moved to the door, and with surprisingly firm hands pushed her out of his study. "This room is forbidden you, Carissa. If you are to have the run of the house, there must be one place where I may escape the sight and sound of you."

"Once we get to Tivoli things will change," she snarled at him.

"I don't think so, my dear," was the acerbic reply. "I will still be the head of this household whom you must obey."

"I hate you!" she screamed at him.

"No more than I hate you, Carissa!" he laughingly replied. "No more than I hate you."

9

Zenobia, Queen of Palmyra, stood looking out upon the Mediterranean sea. She could not get enough of the sight, for she had discovered that it was very much like her desert; a constantly changing pattern of color and movement. It was close to sunset, and the sea was very still at the moment, a smooth and silken surface, wine-colored, reflecting back at her the palace from which she watched it. Above her a flock of pink flamingos whirled, their black underwings in stark contrast to their vividly colored upper bodies. She turned to watch the beautiful birds as they flew over the palace to settle down along the shores of Lake Mareotis, where they nested. All was quiet now, and she stood for some long minutes watching the beacon to the east harbor, the Pharos lighthouse. It was a view seen many times by her ancestress, Cleopatra.

Her gaze moved back to the sea, and she could feel her eyes straining as if by only looking hard enough she might see Rome across the water; see Rome-and her false lover, Marcus Alexander Britainus. There was still pain when she thought of him; but it was not as sharp today as it had been yesterday, nor would it be as sharp tomorrow as it was now. She had always believed she could not live without love, but now she knew that to be untrue. Hate was a magnificent substitute, and she had vowed privately that she would never love a mortal man ever again. Death had taken Odenathus from her, and now an emperor's niece had taken Marcus.

Why? she wondered once more. Why had he married another woman when he had sworn to return to her? She could find no explanation. He had not even written to her.

"Are you all right, Majesty?" Cassius Longinus had come out on the long open portico.

"Yes, Longinus, I am fine," she replied, but he could hear the sadness in her voice.

"There has to be a logical explanation," he burst out, and she turned to look at him with haunted eyes.

"Why do you attempt to find excuses for him, Longinus? You never really approved, I know that. There is no explanation other than the fact that the Roman used me; but I have always learned from my mistakes, and I will never be used by any man again."

He did not argue. But still, Longinus wondered. He believed that he knew the Roman very well, and this sudden marriage to Aurelian's niece and his failure to communicate with Zenobia were totally out of character for Marcus Britainus.

"I intend declaring Vaba Augustus, and myself Queen of the East," she said, and he was quickly jolted from his thoughts.