The walls had been painted with colorful frescoes of the gods and goddesses as they played at love. Diana, chaste goddess of the hunt and the moon, was held in captive embrace by the sun god, Apollo, who boldly fondled her unclad breasts; while about them Diana's equally chaste handmaidens were hunted by a band of rapacious satyrs. A very voluptuous Venus, goddess of love, reclined upon a couch, her pink, white, gold, and blue-eyed beauty totally nude for all to see while two very handsome and extremely well-endowed young mortal males sought to please. Juno, queen of those fortunates who resided upon Mount Olympus, lay upon her back, legs spread wide, her face a mask of ecstasy, while the blacksmith god, Vulcan, labored mightily. Jupiter, King of Olympus, was shown in both his guises: as the swan seducing the beauteous Leda, wife to Tyndareus; the King of Sparta; and as the chestnut-colored bull who abducted and seduced the virgin, Europa, daughter of Agenor, the Phoenician King of Tyre. Both ladies seemed quite pleased with the god's attentions, however. Among the gods and goddesses nymphs and centaurs sported in various and some quite interesting attitudes of play.

Carefully studying them during his first visit to the apartment, Marcus noted somewhat wryly, "I am not sure such a thing is possible when one has a body that is half-human, half-equine." He reclined in a chair along one of the walls.

"The ladies seem content," Zenobia noted from the black marble pool where she was swimming. In the crystal waters of the pool her own very voluptuous form was quite visible.

"Still, I wonder…" he mused, and then he turned to face her. "Come to me, beloved. It has been more than three hundred nights since you have lain in my arms. The gods know that I have always been a patient man, but now I am no longer patient."

Her gray eyes darkened with the remembered passion of that one night that they had had, and a soft smile curved her lips for a moment. Then she swam over to the steps of the pool and stood up. She slowly ascended the stairs as he watched with intense desire her lush golden body, the water droplets glittering like diamonds as they ran down her. Lazily she dried herself off, picked up an alabaster flask, and walked across the room to him. Handing him the flask, she purred, "Will you rub me with this cream, Marcus," and without waiting for him to answer continued on to the sleeping platform, where she lay down upon her stomach.

Standing, he whipped the wrap of cloth from his loins, and, naked, joined her. The night was warm with early summer as he straddled her, using her bottom as a seat, and poured the fragrant, pale mauve-colored cream into one big palm. Carefully he set the flask upon one of the platform steps and, rubbing his hands together to spread the cream, he began to massage her.

"Ummmmmm," she murmured huskily as his large hands swept up the long length of her back and over her shoulders.

He continued this way for some minutes until all the cream had disappeared into her skin, and then, reversing his position, he crouched over her facing her feet. Taking more of the mauve cream, he began to massage her buttocks with expert fingers.

"Ohhhh!" Zenobia gave a little shriek of pleasure, and he smiled to himself. She had thought to play this teasing game with him, but when he had finished with her it would be she whose fires would rage uncontrolled.

Finished with her buttocks, he began to rub each leg in its turn, and then her arms, with the scented cream. As he did so he was not averse to pressing teasing little kisses upon the back of her neck, having first pushed aside her long black hair, which had come free of its jeweled pins. It gave him great satisfaction to note that her delicious body was unable to remain still.

"Marcus!" Her voice was somewhat strained.

"Yes, beloved?" His voice was smooth, devoid of any emotion.

"I think you can stop now." He certainly could stop, she thought frantically. Her skin was absolutely tingling; in fact, she was tingling all over.

"Now?" His voice had turned innocent, and he slipped his hands beneath her to grasp her marvelous breasts. Teasingly, he pinched the nipples, very much enjoying her gasp of surprise. Covering her body with his own, his weight crushed her into the mattress as he murmured into her ear, "My beloved goddess, did you think to tease me to madness? You have succeeded!" And he gently bit at the back of her neck.

She shuddered as the flames of desire began to lick at her in earnest. "Marcus!"

He heard the plea, and lifted himself off her to turn her over onto her back. Her beautiful breasts rose and fell in quick rhythm. His dark chestnut head lowered to capture a pert nipple, which he then caressed with his tongue, circling round and round it, until she moaned a low, keening sound that was half-pleasure, half-frustration. Lifting his head, he moved over to her other nipple while his hand kneaded the breast he had just left. Her breasts had been extremely sensitive since she had stopped nursing Mavia and given that chore to a wet-nurse.

He was going to drive her mad, Zenobia thought. Reaching down, she grasped his thick hair and pulled him from her breast. "Kiss me!" she demanded furiously, and he laughed softly for a moment before his lips took fierce possession of hers. His tongue filled her mouth, skillfully doing battle with hers, which would not be subdued but fought him with equal cunning, bringing quick liquid fire into his hot loins.

Mischievously she bit him, and he swore softly while she laughed and, moving provocatively, murmured, "Now, my darling! Now!"

“No!" he told her. By the gods she might be Queen of Palmyra, but while she lay in his arms he would be the master! "Not yet, beloved! You are too eager."

"Yes, now!" She thrust her pelvis upward against him.

"No! There are pleasures yet to be savored, my beauty," and before she could stop him he shifted his body downward to push his head between her thighs. His fingers pushed the yielding flesh apart, and his mouth found the bud of her womanhood.

Zenobia struggled frantically for breath. Her husband had never done what Marcus now did to her! Such delights he was unleashing within her body! They came quickly one after another in explosions of incredible rapture that left her close to swooning. It was only when he heard the tone of her voice become distraught that he stopped and covered her body again with his own, murmuring soft love words, plunging deep into her burning flesh to soothe and comfort her. Her arms went about him, and she held him tightly against herself, her breasts flattening against the soft fur of his chest.

Together they found the perfect rhythm, and ascended an Olympus of their own, rising higher and higher until finally they gained a paradise far above that of mere gods. Together they clung to each other in that incredible world of instant immortality before descending again to the world of man. Neither remembered the return, awakening much later wrapped within the other's arms; Zenobia, suddenly clearheaded, could hear the strong beat of his heart through his ribs.

"Are you awake?" she whispered softly.

"No," he answered. "I can't possibly be, for if I am then I am in paradise."

"I love you," she answered him.

"No," he said. "I love you!"

Pushing herself up onto one elbow, she gazed down into his strongly chiseled face. "That first night," she said. "I remember thinking that you were the one I had waited for all my life, and I did not understand it. How could I love my Hawk, and yet so quickly love you? I still am not sure I understand."

"Did not your father arrange the marriage?"

"Yes."

"Then you were expected to marry Odenathus, and there was an end to it as far as your family was concerned. Tell me if I am wrong. He was the first man ever to come into your life other than your father and your brothers. He was the first man to make love to you. He was intelligent, and sensitive, and gentle. He adored you above all women, even to putting aside his concubine for you. Is all of this not so?"

"Yes."

"Then how could a woman of sensitivity fail to respond to him? Did you know what love was, beloved? Do you know now?"

"My love for my Hawk was a child's love," she said slowly. "Very much the same as I feel for my father and my brothers. He awakened my body, it is true; but never did I feel for him what I feel for you. Yet that, too, is confusing.

"I remember that all my life until she died my mother always told me of how when she and my father met they fell instantly in love, and knew without reason that they were meant to be together. She did not hesitate to marry him, even though his life as a Bedawi chief was a great deal different from hers as a wealthy Alexandrian."

Gently she brushed a tousled lock of his chestnut hair back from his forehead. Catching her hand in his, he kissed it, and then pressed it to his heart. "When we met it was hardly love at first sight," she continued. "Oh yes, Marcus, I remember it well, although I have not until now spoken of it! We met on the desert road at dawn, and I was insufferably rude to you; but oh my darling, the pain of my mother's death still lived close to me." Tears sprang to her eyes as she remembered that terrible morning so long ago when her beautiful mother was savaged, raped, and murdered by Roman mercenaries.

"Don't, beloved," he urged her, sitting up and gathering her into his embrace.

"I have never really spoken of it to anyone since that day, Marcus. I told my father what had happened, and after that I tried to put it from my mind; but I have never forgotten. They used her body. Then they slit her throat. Perhaps they did her a kindness, for I do not think she could have lived with her shame Blue-eyed Romans. They were blue-eyed Romans. When I met you the hate still boiled in my heart."

"Hate, beloved, is the opposite of love. From the very first moment I saw you I was lost." He chuckled. "You were such a little spitfire that I wanted to drag you from your horse and kiss that angry little mouth until it grew pliant and loving. I knew, however, that you were shortly to be married to the prince of the city. I wanted you then, and having possessed you now, I still want you!"

Her beautiful gray eyes, filled with their tiny golden lights, looked deeply into his sapphire-blue ones. "You have loved me all these years, Marcus, and I never knew it. I have loved you but never did I dare face that love."

"Yet the night of Odenathus's death you came willingly to me, beloved. It was as if your soul understood what your mind never dared to comprehend."

"I ought to be ashamed," she said quietly, "and yet I am not. My husband lay dead and I gave myself to another man."

"You were in shock, beloved; without the least thought or care for yourself you took immediate charge of the situation and thus saved Palmyra from a civil war."

"I did not even remember! All those months while I carried Mavia I believed her to be Odenathus's child, and when I first saw her and remembered, I rejected her."

"No, Zenobia, you didn't reject our child. At your first sight of her you were frightened and confused, as your memory had begun to return. What you were rejecting was the possibility of having behaved in a manner contrary to what you had always done."

She moved so that he held her but lightly and she might gaze into his face. "I love you, Marcus Alexander Britainus, and for some reason I cannot fathom I am loved by you in return. Stay by my side, my darling. Be my rock; my fortress and refuge in this world. Be my love, and never leave me!"

"I will never leave you, Zenobia," he promised. "You are my wife, my beloved one, and as long as you want me I shall stay by your side."

"Then you must remain with me for eternity, Marcus. Eternity and beyond!"

"You do not set me a very harsh task, beloved," he said and, bending his head, he brushed her lips with his own.

Her arms wound about him, and she murmured against his marvelous mouth, "Then I shall have to think of something, my darling, and do not fear, I shall!"

"You will not be easy to live with," he teased her, "will you?"

"No," she said, and then a smile lit her features, "but then, I suspect, neither will you, my darling!"

7

The soldier emperor, Gallienus, considered the letter he had received from Antonius Porcius Blandus, hot upon the heels of the news of Odenathus's murder. He had thought about sending a military governor out to the East, but old Antonius Porcius, a loyal fellow as he remembered, assured him that the young queen, Zenobia, had all in hand; and had already appointed a former Praetorian prefect, one Marcus Alexander Britainus, to be commander of the Eastern legions.