"I know, Mother, but when I heard what he had done to my wife… The gods curse him! I hope he never returns to Rome. I hope they kill him!"
Aurelian, however, at that moment was far from dead. At Zenobia's villa in Tivoli, he held his beautiful captive within the circle of his arms and kissed her passionately. She forced herself to eagerly return his kisses, nibbling teasingly at his lips to further arouse his desires. His hands fondled her full breasts, taunting the nipples to hard peaks. "You are so beautiful," he murmured against her ear, and she purred against him in apparent satisfaction. "Do you know yet, goddess?" he asked her. "Can you be sure yet whether you carry my child?"
"It is much too soon, Caesar," she said, and then she lowered her eyes coyly. "I promise to send a message to you the moment I can be certain. These things cannot be rushed, Roman."
"I do not like leaving you, goddess, but I do not want you exposed to the rigors of travel in your condition."
"I understand, Caesar," she replied, "and I agree with you. 1 am not a maiden in the first flush of her womanhood. It is better this way."
"If only I could be sure!" He was so anxious, and for a brief moment Zenobia almost felt sorry for him. Then she remembered the rites, those unholy rites he had held within his Temple of the Unconquerable Sun, publicly shaming her.
"You were so virile and potent that night, Roman," she murmured wickedly. "Surely if it is written you cannot doubt the outcome?"
"No, no!" he answered, visibly upset lest his lack of faith cause the gods to turn upon him. "No, you are with child, I am certain!"
"Then kiss me again, Aurelian, and be on your way, for the sooner you leave me the sooner you will return to me-and to our child." She looked him straight in the face now, her silvery-gray eyes dancing with their haunting golden lights. Never had he seen her so beautiful, he thought. Swiftly his mouth descended on her, possessing her lips fiercely, but she would not be subdued, and kissed him as fiercely in return. He was strangely breathless when they parted.
"The gods go with you, Roman," she said.
He could do nothing but leave her now, but he did so feeling strangely dissatisfied. Climbing into his chariot, he turned to look at her once more, and the sight of Zenobia in her flaming red kalasiris, her long black hair blowing free in the afternoon breeze, her proud head held high, was a vision that remained with him. He raised his hand in a gesture of farewell, then slapped the reins upon his horses' rumps, and departed, his chariot wheels rumbling up the drive and onto the Via Flaminia.
She also raised her hand in farewell, wondering if he could hear her laughter following him. "I will never see you again, Roman, and may my memory haunt you through all eternity!" she cried softly, and then she whirled around and re-entered her house.
The time went slowly, the days long and dull, the nights longer and lonely. The only relief for Zenobia during this period was her monthly show of blood. She had never truly believed that the emperor could father a child upon her when he had never before sired one; but the insanity of the Temple of the Unconquerable Sun had left her shaken.
The Praetorian guards about her villa were removed at her request to the senate through Claudius Tacitus.
"I have no wish to cause the government undue expense on my behalf when it is not really necessary," she told him. "It is enough that Rome houses me."
"Perhaps," Tacitus said, "it may soon be possible for you to have your complete freedom, my dear. The senate, however, needs certain assurances." His kindly old face was bland with detachment.
"What assurances?" she demanded.
"The emperor made some rather interesting statements concerning your condition prior to his departure; and there was some gossip about fertility rites in his Temple of the Unconquerable Sun several weeks back."
"If you are referring, Tacitus, to the night in which I was drugged and then raped by the emperor upon the high altar of his temple, then allow me to assure you that nothing came of that night other than my acute sense of shame. Aurelian chose to believe that I was carrying his child before he departed. I chose to allow him to believe it so I might be spared the boredom of accompanying him to Byzantium. If the senate does not believe me then let them question my women, or call a physician in to examine me. I am not with child."
"Do you love Aurelian?" Tacitus asked bluntly.
"No," she replied in kind. "I am his captive, and that is all I have ever been."
"He believes that you love him."
"He also believes that I am the goddess Venus incarnate, but I am not, Tacitus." She looked shrewdly at him. "You have all but said aloud that there is a plot against Aurelian. I care not! Why should I? Aurelian has taken everything that I ever held dear from me. My sons are gone from me, my people, my city! All I have left is my daughter, and all I want is to be left alone in peace to raise her. You may tell the senate that, Tacitus! I simply wish to be left to myself!"
"Your reputation was not a lie, Zenobia of Palmyra. You are indeed a wise woman," Tacitus replied, and then he bid her farewell and withdrew from her.
When he had gone Zenobia called for parchment andher writing materials, and quickly wrote a note to Dagian. The note was then taken immediately to Rome by a Tiro, a young slave of Zenobia's. He was a skilled chariot driver, who had been injured in the arena. No longer any good for competition, he had been sold by his master, but he could still drive skillfully enough for the road. She had purchased him, given him a lovely slave girl as a wife, and now Tiro would have died for his mistress.
When Tiro returned after dark that night Marcus Alexander Britainus was with him, muffled in a dark cloak as he slipped into the villa and made his way to Zenobia's bedchamber. Adria gave a small shriek as the large, black figure entered the room without warning; but Marcus flung the long cape off, and Adria sighed, "Oh, master, you gave me such a fright!"
Marcus chuckled deeply. "Did you think I was Aurelian returned?"
Adria made a face that caused Marcus to laugh aloud. "That one," Adria sniffed. "Praise the gods we shall not have to put up with him again, master."
"You sound more like old Bab every day," he teased her.
"Then the girl is finally getting some sense, which is more than I can say for you, Marcus Alexander Britainus! Are you mad to come calling, and the emperor not gone from the country yet?" Bab stood glaring at him, hands upon her plump hips.
"Aurelian sailed two days ago, old woman; and besides, it was your beautiful mistress who summoned me here. Where is she?"
"Here, my love!" Zenobia stood in the doorway of her bedchamber. "I was in the gardens walking-and dreaming. Find your beds, Bab, Adria."
The two servants scurried out, and waiting until they were just gone, Zenobia threw herself into her husband's arms, raising her face up for a kiss. He stared down at her for a moment, his fingers gently caressing her cheekbones, and then his mouth descended to meet her eager lips. Her heart leapt wildly within her chest, threatening, she was certain, to burst through her skin. He kissed her softly at first, and then as his mouth grew more certain of possession, he demanded surrender, total surrender of her. She joyously gave him that surrender, wrapping her smooth arms about his neck, pressing herself as close to him as she could.
"You are mine now!" and she could hear the triumph in his voice.
"I am yours now and forever!" she answered him, her eyes shining up into his with so much love that he felt humble.
Unable to resist her, he kissed her gently once more, and then he led her to their bed where they sat down so they might speak.
"Aurelian is gone, Zenobia. Two days ago from Brindisi, according to reports received this morning in Rome. The news came by pigeon, and was welcomed by the senate."
'Tacitus came to visit me this morning," Zenobia said excitedly. "I had requested the senate to withdraw the Praetorian guards from the villa."
"On what excuse?" he asked.
"I said I wished to live quietly, and not cause the government unnecessary expense."
Marcus laughed loudly. "Indeed, my love, you certainly must have caught their attention with that excuse."
"He practically admitted a plot against Aurelian. This emperor will not, I wager, return from Byzantium alive."
"How can you be sure, beloved? Tell me exactly what Tacitus said to you."
"I do not doubt that you have heard the rumors, Marcus, of what happened to me in Aurelian's temple," she said slowly.
"I have heard," he said tersely, his face suddenly dark and grim with anger.
"It was not my fault," she whispered, afraid.
He drew a deep breath, and then took her onto his lap to comfort her. "I know that, Zenobia, but I cannot help but be angry about it. I am not angry with you, but at the situation. I am not one of these new Christians who can turn the other cheek. My wife, the woman whom I prize above all others, was taken publicly in a fertility rite! The mere thought maddens me!"
"It was the most horrifying experience of my life, Marcus, and I have lived through much. I was drugged just enough to make me helpless, but not enough to render me unconscious. I was bound upon their high altar for all to see, and all about me those unholy people chanted for Aurelian to take me."
She sighed deeply, sadly, then said, "At least one good thing came of it. Aurelian was so certain that he had impregnated me that he never came near me after that."
He groaned, pained. "How many times have you been helpless, and I not able to defend you, beloved? Never again! I swear by all the gods it shall never happen again! Now you are in my keeping, Zenobia, and I will protect you always."
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