"Accordingly, I must mete out punishment to all. You are sentenced to death in the name of the Senate of Rome and the peoples it represents. The Council of Ten will not be allowed to re-form. Rome will rule Palmyra henceforth by means of a military governor. You have six hours in which to put your affairs in order. You will be executed just before sunset. Rest assured that your families will not be harmed, nor will your possessions be confiscated."

There was not a sound in the room. The members of the Council of Ten could not believe what they had heard. Zenobia sat wide-eyed. Clutching at the table's edge, she pulled herself up to a standing position.

"Mercy, Caesar," she rasped, for her throat was tight. "Kill me! Make me your example, but in the name of all the gods, spare these good men!" Her voice grew stronger. "My day is over. I will die willingly for Palmyra. It is not fair that the council be killed. They are not responsible for my actions! I alone am responsible! I willingly, nay gladly, accept my responsibilities."

"A woman could not have accomplished what you have accomplished, Zenobia, without the cooperation of her council. The boy was too young to rule, I grant you; but had this council not gone along with your precipitous behavior, you could not have come so close to succeeding in your foolish rebellion. My sentence is just."

"I will kill you," she said clearly, and the men of the emperor's legion put their hands to their swords. "Someday I will find a way to repay you for this terrible Roman injustice. You have placed the burden of guilt for the murder of ten good men upon my conscience, and I shall never forgive you for it."

"This council is disbanded," Aurelian said coldly, and quickly the men of his legion surrounded the unfortunate members of the Council of Ten. "Each of you," the emperor said, "may return under guard to your homes. You will be escorted back to the palace before sunset." Then he turned on his heel to leave the room.

"Wait!" Zenobia's voice resounded throughout the council chamber. Aurelian turned. "Give me leave, Caesar, to bid these faithful friends farewell." She spoke carefully, in a toneless voice. He nodded curtly. "Without their guards?" she pleaded. Again he nodded. "Thank you," she said simply.

When the room had emptied, and only Zenobia, Vaballathus, and the Council of Ten remained, she spoke. "I will try when I am alone with him to get him to reconsider; but he is a harsh man. I know not with what I may bargain now. I have nothing left."

Marius Gracchus spoke. "He means to separate Palmyra entirely from her past, Majesty. He believes that once this is done the people will be easy to manage, and in truth they will be. Whatever their loyalties to the House of Odenathus, Rome has not penalized them for this war. Nor, I suspect, will Rome penalize them. The royal family will be gone, the council will be gone, and there will be but one authority: Rome. The people's loyalty will not be torn, and the city will remain as Rome wants. Productive and calm. I admire this emperor for all he has condemned me to my death, because he is clever and ruthless. Do not grieve, Majesty. We of the Council of Ten are mostly old, and the gods know that we have lived good lives. We are proud to die for Palmyra!"

There were murmurs of assent from the others, and Zenobia knew that there was nothing left to say. They were all powerless, and they had all bravely faced that fact. "I will try," she said. "I must try! We all know that you could not have stopped me even if you had desired to do so. Aurelian knows it, too! It is not fair!"

Cassius Longinus chuckled. "You are correct, Majesty," he said with a twinkle. "Although it embarrasses us to admit it even now. we could not have stopped you at any time. Nonetheless the emperor needs a blood sacrifice. We are that sacrifice. Let it be. Do not humble yourself before Aurelian again. You may not realize it now, but your lot is far harder than ours. He can kill us only once, but you, Majesty, must live on to take part in the emperor's triumph, and then afterward-who knows. You are Palmyra! You will show the alien Roman world Palmyran courage and loyalty; and by doing that, all we have done in our battle for liberty will live on, and we shall never really be dead."

Zenobia felt the tears well up, and then unashamedly she let them roll down her face. There were no arguments left. "I will bid you farewell now," she said quietly, attempting to gather her dignity about her. Each of the council came forward, placing his hands first in hers and then moving on to their young king to bid him farewell. Zenobia said only their names, for there were no words with which she might thank them now for this ultimate sacrifice.

"Antonius Porcius. I fear for Flavia when she learns of your fate."

"My daughter is stronger than she appears, my Queen. My main concerns are for Julia and our son, Gaius."

"I will do everything I can, old friend. Perhaps they will want to go to Cyrene with Vaba and Flavia. My future is so uncertain."

"Cyrene!" Antonius Porcius made a face. "The armpit of the empire," he said scornfully. "A decaying city on the sea with the desert on the other three sides and nothing else for hundreds of miles. Aurelian chose Vaba's place of exile well. The gods help them. They will be bored to death within a year."

Zenobia was forced to laugh, even in the midst of such tragedy, and the sound of her laughter heartened everyone in the room. She and Antonius Porcius, Rome's former governor and Palmyra's loyal servant these many years, embraced, and then he was moving on and speaking in low, urgent tones to Vaba.

Cassius Longinus stood before her, and for a very long moment they looked at each other. "You," Zenobia said, "you I will miss more than the others, even my children. You are my friend." Quick tears sprang to her silvery eyes, and she amended, "My best friend."

Longinus smiled a strangely sweet smile at her, and took her hand in his. "You think that your life is over," he said quietly, "but dearest Majesty, it has barely begun. Palmyra is just your beginning. I am sixty years old, Majesty, and if I have any regrets it is that I was not with you from the very beginning. It is the will of the gods that your life be spared, as it is their will that we ten die. Remember us, Majesty, but do not grieve." He drew her close to him, and gently kissed her forehead. "You are my best friend also," he said, and then he moved away from her to speak with Vaba.

Zenobia stood quietly, tears streaming down her beautiful face. Finally the room was empty, and Vaba came over to put a comforting arm about his mother. "I do not think I can bear it," Zenobia said. "I cannot believe that Aurelian means to go through with tins slaughter. It is so unfair!"

"When were the Romans ever fair?" he replied bitterly. "It is as Longinus said. Their honor can only be satisfied by a blood sacrifice."

"Oh, Vaba," she half-whispered, "I am responsible for this. It is my fault that the Council of Ten is to die. If I had not declared you Augustus, and myself Queen of the East, Aurelian would not have descended upon us."

"In the short time I have known this emperor, Mother, I have reached the conclusion that he never does anything precipitously. Each move he makes is well thought out in advance. I believe that in his quest to reunite his Roman Empire he sought to regain full control of Palmyra again. He did not want Palmyra to be ruled by its own king. He would have found some excuse, however flimsy, to conquer us. You cannot-must not-hold yourself responsible for the fate of the council."

His words were comforting, but Zenobia was not sure that she entirely believed them. After all, had not she-had not they all said that she was Palmyra? As queen, a queen who ruled for her son, they had all been her sole responsibility. She had failed in that trust.

Vaba escorted her litter back to her apartments and left her. Slowly Zenobia entered her rooms, her mind deep in thought. She suddenly felt very tired, and decided that she would rest until sunset. It would be necessary for her to attend the execution of her council members. They had always supported her, and she owed them this final courtesy no matter how painful it would be for her.

"Why did you not wear the flame-colored gown I wanted?" Aurelian's voice cut into her concentration.

"Red is the color of joy," she said dully. "I did not expect I should be joyful this day, and so I chose to be who I am, the Queen of Palmyra. Tyrian purple is a royal color."

"You are no longer Queen of Palmyra, goddess."

She turned to look directly at him, and then she said in a quiet voice, "I will always be the Queen of Palmyra, Aurelian. Your words, the edicts of your seriate, they cannot alter who I am. Perhaps I shall never see my homeland again, but I will always be the Queen of Palmyra."

Seeing her standing there, he understood for the first time in his life the word "regal." He knew that he should never possess such presence, such dignity. She almost made him feel ashamed, and it angered him. Why should this beautiful rebel make him feel guilty for doing his duty?

"May I go with Vaba and Flavia?" she asked. "May I take my other children with me?"

"You will come to Rome with me," he said in a voice that suggested she not argue. "You have two sons, but I have only seen one. Where is the other?"

"I do not know where my son, Demetrius, is, Caesar. Perhaps he is with his grandfather."

"And perhaps he is sneaking about the city like a jackal with a group of his angry young patrician friends causing trouble," the emperor said, his eyes narrowing.

"What have you heard?" She tried to keep the fright from her voice.