Bertrice Small - Beloved

Although his head was spinning, he still managed to place an arm about her shoulders and cradle her against him. His big hand caressed her full breasts, and Zenobia felt a thrill run through her. She had never again thought to be loved by him, and now as his passion grew her own rose to match his. He bent his dark chestnut head to nuzzle at her breasts, and shifting so that she lay upon her back, she drew him as close to her as she could, murmuring softly as his tongue encircled her taut nipples. She threaded her fingers through his thick hair, and with one hand rubbed the sensitive back of his neck.

"Oh, Marcus," she murmured, "you will think me wanton, but I am so filled with desire for you, my darling. Do not play long with me, I beg you."

With a low rumble of deep laughter, he lifted his head from her ripe breasts and, shifting his position slightly, gently entered her. Simultaneously they sighed, and then as he began to move in a slow and sensuous rhythm against her, she nipped him lightly upon his shoulder.

Little wildcat," he whispered, "I love you."

"I love you," she whispered back, and then Zenobia gave herself over to the storm of passion that built quickly within her, sending her moaning and thrashing against him as her desire peaked over and over again. Still he would not give her release, and when she roundly cursed him in her childhood Bedawi dialect he laughed aloud, but continued the pleasure-pain until he knew from her mewlings and whimperings that she would bear no more. Only then did he tumble with her into that dark abyss of passion, already longing to possess her again.

With the saucer lamp flickering low, and the chill of the little, damp cave licking at their naked flesh, the lovers did not stay long that night. They now desired only one thing: to pledge themselves quickly in matrimony before witnesses. Neither would feel safe until that sacred promise had been made to the other. Alone each was helpless, together they were invincible.

Silently, hurriedly, they dressed and left the cave, walking swiftly back down the pebbled beach and up the cliff staircase. Although they had been gone less than an hour, night had fallen, and had it not been for the quarter moon they would have had a hard time finding their way. Dagian dozed, her head nodding against her chest as she sat waiting on the marble bench. Gently Marcus kissed her, and she awoke with a small start.

Before she could speak he said, "Zenobia and I intend to marry tonight, Mother. Will you go to her house, and bring old Bab and Adria here to us? We will pledge ourselves here beneath the night sky for all the gods to see. Let Diana, the goddess of the moon, and the hunt, be our chief witness."

If Aurelian learns of this…" Dagian said quietly, but Zenobia cut her short.

"Tonight we have learned that there is no life for us apart. We should rather face the emperor's wrath than ever be separated again, Dagian."

"Besides, Mother, he is not going to know. Trust me, for this time I have a foolproof plan."

Dagian could see that there was no reasoning with either of them. The light of their shared love shone in both their eyes, and she realized that further argument would be useless. Obedient to her son's wishes, she rose from her marble bench and hurried off to Zenobia's villa to fetch the queen's two faithful servants. When she was well out of earshot Zenobia turned to her beloved, and said softly, "I cannot tell Aurelian that I am with child, Marcus. Not when he first returns, at least. He is no fool for all his passion for me. If I say I am to bear his child, he will call in a physician to examine me. He will want to be assured that both the child and I are in good health; he will want to know the birthdate; he will want reassurance. Whether I am your wife, or not, I will have to play his whore a little time longer. If you love me, and value our safety, then you must live with that knowledge. Can you? Perhaps you would prefer that we wait until we can escape to Britain." Her gray eyes looked searchingly at him. 'Tell me true, my darling."

For a moment Marcus looked unhappy. The mere thought of Aurelian touching Zenobia infuriated him, yet he knew she was right. If she claimed to be with child, an excited and happy emperor would demand not only proof of her condition, but more dangerous knowledge as well. Still, he did not want to wait. Even knowing that she must bed again with the emperor, Marcus wanted Zenobia for his wife-now, tonight. What she did with Aurelian would mean nothing to her, and in the years to come the memory would fade from both their minds. What she did she did for love of him, for their future together, for their descendants. "I love you," he said quietly. "I do not choose to wait." Then he took her into his arms and kissed her tenderly. "You have always been my wife, beloved."

She brushed the sudden tears from her cheeks. "I think that perhaps the gods have not deserted me after all. Mayhap they were merely testing me, for this night I have found the kind of happiness that is rarely granted to any mortal."

“Are you not Zenobia, the Queen of Palmyra?" he said. "Are you not beloved of the gods, of your people, and of me?"

"Oh yes," she whispered breathily at him. "Yes, my darling, darling Marcus!" And she clung hungrily to him, looking up at him with the shining light of her love, transforming her whole being until she seemed almost luminous.

He stared down at her transfixed, totally unaware that his own love shone as brightly, infusing her with such warmth and well-being that for the first time in months she felt safe, no longer afraid. She had lived with fear these many months, although never once had she dared admit it, even to herself. Now, like a ship escaped from a terrible tempest, she was in a safe harbor.

At a noise on the path they broke apart. Into view came Dagian, Bab, and Adria.

Zenobia's elderly servant looked at Marcus with a sharp eye. "So, Marcus Alexander Britainus, you are finally come back to us."

"Yes, Bab, and tonight I shall claim my own."

"It is good," the old woman nodded.

"The slaves?" Zenobia queried her servants.

"All in their quarters, and sleeping," Adria assured her mistress.

"Very well, then," the queen said, and she turned to Marcus. "Shall we begin, my darling?"

"Yes, beloved."

So in the green, sweet-smelling garden, its flowers lightly touched by the silver glow of the quarter moon, Zenobia, the Queen of Palmyra, turned to her lover, Marcus Alexander Britainus, and said in a low but clear voice, "When and where you are Gaius, I then and there am Gaia." It was that simple. They were now man and wife, and he took her once more into his arms to kiss her as Dagian and Adria wiped the tears from their faces and old Bab gave a little hiccough of a sob, and then said, "It has taken you two long enough. I thought never to live long enough to see you both wed. Now may I die in peace."

"You are not going to die yet," Marcus chuckled.

"No, I am not," the old lady cackled, "else who will teach your son manners!"

"And keep me in my place?" he teased her.

"My children," Dagian said, "we must separate now. None of us must allow the least suspicion to fall on Zenobia and Marcus."

Adria and Bab nodded, and began to make their way back to the villa, while Dagian walked in the opposite direction toward her own house. The newly married pair stood hand in hand for a few minutes, talking quietly to reassure each other that they were indeed man and wife.

"Once you said you would not marry me except that it be in the bright light of day, before all; and that I should escort you with much pomp to our new home. Alas, at the moment I have no new home to escort you to, beloved."

"How foolish I was," she answered him.

"I should have insisted, especially when I knew I had to return to Rome. I should not have left you so unprotected, Zenobia. I will never again leave you, my darling! Go now and dream of me, beloved." He kissed her gently once more, and then stood watching as she obediently turned and hurried back to her own villa. She would not always, he thought, somewhat amused, be that obedient.

Walking back through the garden, Zenobia's heart soared with happiness. She was his wife now, and nothing would ever part them again. She had once warned Aurelian that in the end she would win the battle between them, and now she almost had. It mattered not to her that he would not know, at least not yet. What mattered most was that she and Marcus were finally united, united now and forever; and nothing, not even death, would ever divide them again!

Aurelian arrived home victorious from Gaul, and a small triumph was held, this time with the unfortunate Tetricus walking behind the emperor's chariot. In that chariot, Zenobia the captive Queen of Palmyra rode, again with her golden chains fastened to Aurelian's massive iron belt. This time, however, she was garbed in royal purple and gold garments, the Palmyran crown upon her head. Rome's emperor was making a strong point with the people; a point that they did not for all their grumbling miss. He was Caesar! His generals were not as easily impressed, for Aurelian had become more imperious as each day passed, and was beginning to believe his own legend.

The queen had been summoned from Tivoli to take part in this latest triumph, and afterward she was escorted to Aurelian's residence on the Palatine Hill. There had been little opportunity for them to speak even though they had shared the same chariot in the procession. She had faintly protested being sent to his palace, but he had quickly overruled her with a wave of his hand. "You will obey me, goddess! Must I again teach you the folly of disobedience?"