The wedding gown was a white tunic of gossamer silk, woven by Tamar and Bab. The straight garment was made from a single piece of cloth, and fell to Zenobia's feet which were shod in silver sandals. The tunic was fastened around the waist with a band of wool tied in the knot of Hercules, for Hercules was the guardian of wedded life. When he became Zenobia's husband only Odenathus would be privileged to untie this knot. Over her tunic the bride wore a flame-colored veil; atop her head was a wreath of sweet, white freesia.

Downstairs, the groom had arrived with his mother and friends. He wore a silver-bordered white toga, and was given a wreath of white freesia, matching his bride's, for his head. The augur formally pronounced the omens as favorable, the wedding was ready to begin.

Zenobia was brought forward by Tamar, who had been chosen as pronuba for the ceremony. Zabaai's wife then joined the bride and groom's hands before the guests, and Zenobia spoke the words of her consent to this marriage. She spoke them three times, once in Latin, once in Greek, and once in the Aramaic dialect of her tribe, so that everyone in the room might understand:

"When and where you are Gaius; I then and there am Gaia."

Now the high priest from the Temple of Jupiter led the couple to the left of the household altar and, facing it, they were seated on stools covered with the skin of the sheep sacrificed earlier. Then a bloodless offering of a wheat cake was made to Jupiter by the high priest. A second cake was eaten by the bride and groom. Next the high priest recited prayers to Juno, goddess of marriage, and to the gods of the countryside and its fruits. The utensils necessary for the offering were carried in a covered basket by a boy called a camillus, whose parents were both living. Zenobia had chosen for this important role her young nephew, Zabaai ben Akbar.

As the ceremony concluded the guests cried "Feliciter!” meaning good luck and happiness. Odenathus turned Zenobia to face him. Seeing him for the first time since she had left the palace almost two weeks ago, she felt shy and blushed. There was a hum of approval by those close enough to see.

Gently he kissed her on the forehead. "I have missed you, my flower," he said so only she might hear.

"I have missed you, Hawk."

It was the only private moment they would get for many hours to come. A lavish wedding feast had been planned, and it would last until evening. Knowing what was expected of her, Zenobia took her new husband's hand, and together they led the guests into Zabaai's magnificent outdoor dining room in the back garden of the villa. Here, dining couches and tables had been set up around a tiled court with a center fountain that shot a spray of water from the mouth of a marvelous golden sea dragon who writhed in the center of the fountain. The bride and groom shared a couch at the center table while the other guests were seated according to the order of their importance.

The meal was divided into three parts. The appetizers consisted of asparagus in oil and vinegar, tuna and sliced egg on beds of lettuce, oysters that had been brought overland packed in snow, and thrushes, roasted a golden brown and set upon beds of cress, all on silver platters decorated with apricots and ripe olives. The second course offered loin of goat, legs of baby lamb, roasted chickens, ducks both domestic and wild, hare, great bowls of vegetables such as green beans, young cabbage sprouts, cauliflower imported from Europe, lettuce and onions, radishes and cucumbers, olives both green and ripe. There were loaves of bread, round and hot from the ovens.

When the main part of the meal had been cleared away crystal bowls of almonds and pistachios were set upon all the tables along with platters of green and golden pears, red and purple plums, peaches, apricots, cherries, pomegranates, grapes black, purple, and green. There were sticky honey cakes shaped like butterflies and wrapped about chopped nuts and poppy seeds. A wedding cake filled with raisins and currants was served, and pieces of this cake were distributed to all the guests to take home for luck.

Throughout the meal a mixture of water and wine had been served, but as the desserts were being offered rich red wine was poured and repoured into eager goblets. As the diners became more boisterous the entertainers appeared. There were wrestlers, jugglers, dancing dogs, and dancing girls who were very well received indeed. The late morning had melted into afternoon, and now suddenly evening had come. The most important part of the wedding was about to take place. It was essential to the validity of a marriage that the bride be escorted publicly to her husband's house with much ceremony and pomp.

All afternoon the crowds had been gathering outside of Zabaai ben Selim's house, and along the route that would be taken by the couple on their way back to the prince's palace. Now with the arrival of the torchbearers and the flute players the procession began to form. Bab had already gone on ahead to the palace, and Zenobia had earlier bid the rest of her father's household a proper farewell. The marriage hymn was sung by all the guests, and Odenathus pretended to take Zenobia by force from Tamar's protective embrace. The bride then took her place of honor in the procession, attended by her three youngest brothers, two of whom walked beside her, holding her hands. The eldest of the three lit the way ahead with the wedding torch of hawthorn.

Before the procession moved off into the street Zabaai ben Selim spoke low to his daughter: "Remember we are your family. If you need us, Zenobia, you have but to call."

She smiled a radiant smile at him. "I will remember, and pray the gods I never have need of your offer, my father."

"It is best to be prepared," was his reply.

"Come, my flower." Odenathus was by her side, smiling. She smiled back happily, and the procession was off. Across the street in the crowd of well-wishers Marcus Alexander watched as Zenobia moved away. She was as beautiful as he had remembered, and for the first time in his life he felt envy for another man, envy for the Prince of Palmyra who would soon untie the knot of Hercules on Zenobia's wedding dress and then spend the rest of the night making love to that exquisite creature. Would he be gentle, or would he fall on the girl like a beast and frighten her? He sighed. He would be gentle. He would caress that softer-than-silk skin- somehow Marcus Alexander knew Zenobia's skin would be soft- until a fire raged within that beautiful body. A fire to be possessed, and to possess.

Seeing the look of longing on Marcus Alexander's face, Severus realized with shock that his master had fallen in love with the new Princess of Palmyra.

There was no time to ponder it, for the crowd was joining in the procession, already beginning to sing songs full of coarse jests and double entendres as they accompanied the bride through the city to her new home. It was the same everywhere, Severus thought, not at all shocked. Princess, patrician, or commoner were all escorted with the same vulgar songs. At the first crossroads they came to, Zenobia dropped a coin in offering to the gods of that place. A second coin she presented to Odenathus as symbol of the dowry she brought him, and a third she kept to put upon the altar of her new home's household gods. As they moved along, the crowds scrambled to obtain some of the sweetmeats, sesame cakes, and nuts that the prince scattered along his route, a traditional prayer for his wife's fertility.

It seemed as if the entire city had joined in the procession by the time they reached the palace. At the main gate Zenobia stopped and wound the doorposts with wool, symbol of her duties as mistress of the house; and anointed the door with oil and fat, emblems of plenty. Odenathus then picked her up and carefully carried her across the threshold, gently setting her back on her feet within the great atrium of the palace. A final time Zenobia said, "When and where you are Gaius; I then and there am Gaia." The doors were then closed.

Before the invited guests, Odenathus offered Zenobia fire and water in token of their new life together. Taking the marriage torch from him, Zenobia put it to the wood laid upon the atrium hearth, and then tossed the now dead torch among her guests, who scrambled eagerly for the lucky item. She then recited a prayer to the gods thanking them for her good fortune, and begging them that she be fruitful. Tamar, still in her role as pronuba, led Zenobia to the marriage couch, an ornamental piece of furniture that was always placed in the atrium on the night of the marriage and remained there afterward. This was the signal for all guests to leave, and shortly the bridal couple were alone.

For a few moments they stood in silence. Then the prince said, "Are you tired, my flower?"

"Yes."

"Then we shall go to bed."

"Here?" He heard the panic in her voice as her gaze swept the large, open atrium, finally lighting on the large and gilded marriage couch.

"No, not here, Zenobia." He kept his voice steady and even to reassure her. "You have your own house within the palace grounds. We will go there now, for it is there you and I shall live together."

"Is Bab there?"

“Not tonight, my flower. Tonight we will be alone."

"Oh." Her voice was very small, and her hand very cold when he took it to lead her off.

"I hope you will be pleased with your house, my flower. It is not overly large, for I did not think you would want a large home. Every workman, craftsman, and artisan in the city has worked for the last two weeks to build you your house."

"It is new? Oh, Hawk! I did not mean for you to go to so much trouble."

"I wanted you to have a house that was your very own, my love. The structure is of sun-dried brick sheathed on the outside with white marble. It is a simple house, but it is two stories. There is an atrium in the front so you may receive guests, a library for me to work in, a dining room facing south that we will use in winter, and one facing north for the summer. We need no banquet hall, for the palace has several of those. There is also a kitchen on the main floor, and one good-sized room I thought you might enjoy using for yourself as well as a comfortable chamber for Bab. I thought she might enjoy being on the ground floor with not so many stairs to climb.

"The bedchambers are on the second floor along with the baths. I have chosen only a minimum amount of furniture because I thought that you might enjoy choosing your own things from the bazaars. As for slaves, you will choose your own; but for the next few days it is only necessary that Bab serve us."

They had exited the main palace, and now walked through vast gardens, already moonlit and filled with small night creatures tuning up with song. They turned onto a graveled path lined in Palmyran palms, and at its end she saw a lovely small palace. As they reached its open doors he once more picked her up, and carried her over the threshold. But once inside, he did not put her down. Instead he walked through the atrium to the passageway that hid the stairs, and carried her up to a bedchamber, where he deposited her in the middle of the floor.

"Help me with this damned toga," he said quietly. Surprised, she obeyed. "I hate togas, but high state occasions demand I wear them."

Silently she took the garment and laid it carefully on a chair, as she was unfamiliar with the room and did not know where the storage chests were kept. He sat down and bent to unlace his sandals. Quickly she hurried over, and knelt to aid him, sliding the sandals off, quietly admiring his graceful feet. She started at the touch of his hand on her head.

"You don't have to take my sandals off, my flower."

"I want to," she replied. "I will not always be the sort of wife you want, my Hawk, but these small things I will do for you, and as long as I do, you will know that I love you."

His hand reached down to cup her chin and raise her head up. For a long moment he stared into those beautiful, calm gray eyes, and then his lips but brushed hers, sending a little tingle through her. She lowered her eyes shyly only to become suddenly aware that he now wore only a short tunica interior. Zenobia stared fascinated at her husband's muscled and shapely legs. They were long and smooth and tanned. Amused, he watched her for a moment. He could almost sense that she wanted to touch him, but was yet afraid.

He stood up, drawing her with him, his hands going to the knot of Hercules that was tied about the waist of her wedding dress. For several moments he struggled with it, muttering under his breath as the knot's puzzle eluded him, "Who in Hades tied this thing?"