They could not be sure that he would come, but a few minutes before midnight Zenobia, Vaba, and Flavia all waited in the darkness by the queen's secret gate. It was Flavia who first heard the soft scratching, and unlocked the little door to admit Prince Demetrius.

"Brother," she said softly, kissing him on the cheek.

"Flavia, you bloom," was his answer.

In the faint light from the garden torches they looked at each other, and then Demi said, "Mother, Vaba. How are you both?"

"We are all well, my brother, but we fear for your safety. I feel fortunate that we are all still alive."

"I wonder if you will feel glad to be alive after a year in Cyrene," Demi said.

"As long as I am alive, as long as Flavia lives, and our children beginning with this baby, there is hope, Demi. Mother is right. Why can you not be patient, my brother? Go with Mother and Mavia to Rome. I need you there to look after them."

"Look after Mother?" His voice was bitter. "Mother does not need looking after. She does quite well by herself, and as long as she does Mavia is safe."

"I will need someone in Rome who can travel back and forth between Mother and me," Vaballathus entreated. "Who better can I trust but you, Demi?"

"I remain in Palmyra. At least there will be one of King Odenathus's sons here."

"If the Romans capture you, Demi, you will be killed," Zenobia said. "Aurelian will allow you your life if you come with us."

"There is no one in Palmyra who will betray me," was the proud reply.

"There is always someone who will betray you, you young fool!" said Zenobia impatiently. "If it is not for gold, then it will be for Roman favor; but mark my words, Demi, someone will betray you, and it will be he whom you least expect."

There was a rustle among the bushes, and Adria appeared. "The emperor is just returning, Majesty. He is already in the outer courtyard."

"Demetrius!" Zenobia's voice was impassioned and pleading. "I beg of you, please, my son, come with us!" She pulled him so that he faced her in the dim light.

For a brief moment Demi softened. "Mother, I must stay," he said quietly. "As long as I remain in Palmyra our people have hope. They will know we have not deserted them. If I am your son then I am my father's son, too. Please try to understand."

"You will throw your life away needlessly," she said brokenly. Where was her power now? This was but one more thing she had to thank the Romans for! She huddled in her son's arms for a long minute, alternating between anger and despair; and then she stood straight. "Demetrius, Prince of Palmyra, may the gods go with you, my son, and keep you safe until we meet again." Pulling his head down, she kissed him on the forehead. "Farewell, my son."

"Farewell, my Mother," he answered her.

She looked at him a long minute, committing his face to memory, then she turned and hurried back to the palace.

"You have hurt her terribly," Vaba said quietly.

"She will survive, my brother."

Vaba realized that there was to be no reasoning with his younger brother. The king knew that every minute they now remained in Zenobia's garden brought them closer to discovery, and so he said, "We must go, Demi. You have Mother's blessing, and I give you mine also. I think that you are wrong, but your sacrifice is a great one. The gods go with you, brother." He embraced his sibling a final time.

Flavia hugged him also, saying in her gentle voice, "Mars protect you, dearest brother; and Athena give you wisdom."

"The gods go with you both also," Demi said softly. He kissed her tenderly upon her lips, then saluting his older brother a final time slipped through the little wall door and into the darkness of the sleeping city.

Slowly they closed the door, locked it, and carefully replaced the key. Then together Vaba and Flavia returned to the palace.


* * *

In Zenobia's bedchamber the emperor lay back looking up at her. "You are sad tonight, goddess. Have you seen your younger son?"

"Yes," she said.

"He persists in his foolishness?"

She nodded. "You will have to kill him," Zenobia said low, and a single bright tear rolled down her cheek.

Gently he brushed it away with one finger, and reaching up gathered her into his arms. "Perhaps we shall catch him before he does something too unforgivable, goddess. I will give orders, I promise you."

"How can you be so kind on one hand, so cruel on the other?" she asked.

"I don't want to make you any sadder than you are already, beloved, and I know the wrench it is for you to leave Palmyra, be parted from your family. I understand these things, and I can afford to be generous under the circumstances."

She almost wept then and there, but instead she pulled away and looked him in the eye, saying, "I thank you, Roman, for your kindness."

"What a little fraud you are, goddess," he chuckled. "All right, don't weep upon my neck as you really want to do at this moment. I understand pride." He pulled her back into his arms and covered her lips with his in an almost tender kiss, pressing gently, nibbling teasingly. "You silver-eyed sorceress," he murmured against her mouth. "One day you will yield fully to me!" Wisely the queen refrained from an angry retort, closing her eyes in seeming surrender.


***

The following evening after a busy day of packing-for the royal Palmyran couple were to be allowed to take all their furniture and personal possessions with them to Cyrene-Zenobia found herself bidding most of her family farewell. In the main courtyard of the palace, where only a short few weeks ago the council had been executed, a fair-sized caravan prepared to leave. There were over two hundred laden camels, each with one of the king's slaves walking by its side. All the royal slaves and free servants would walk with the caravan, as would the legionnaires of Rome. Only the young king, Gaius Porcius, and the military officers would be mounted. Julia and young Queen Flavia would ride in their own litters, each big enough for sleeping.

"We will write you, Mother, as often as possible," promised Vaba.

"Wait until you have reached Cyrene to send me your message," Zenobia replied. "The emperor is leaving to return to Rome in another day or two, Vaba. There will be no place you can send the message to me until I reach their capital."

"Will you too be hastened from the city under cover of darkness, I wonder, Mother?"

"No. Aurelian sends you from Palmyra this way in order to keep his Roman peace. He will march me from the city in plain view of all our people, a captive queen, a lesson to any foolish enough to reconsider rebellion."

"Mother…" The worry showed plain upon his face, and she was touched by his caring.

"Vaba, my son," and she put a hand on his shoulder, "do not be afraid for me. Save your caring for Flavia and your unborn child. Aurelian is nothing more to me than a lustful man with whom I can contend quite successfully." She laughed softly at the shock in his eyes. He knew of her relationship with the emperor, of course, but he did not like to admit to a truth that embarrassed him. "It is never easy to be a woman, Vaba," Zenobia said soothingly, "even a woman who is a reigning queen as I have been. What the gods give with one hand, they take back with the other. Remember that always, my son."

"I am a king, and yet I was unable to aid you, Mother. I will never forget that, and it will haunt me always," Vaba declared.

"No, no, dear one!" Zenobia protested. "The Roman had more power, that is all, and that is what I tried to gain for you, my son-power. That and wealth will always protect you."

"When will I see you again?" he demanded.

"When the emperor tires of me, enough to allow me to travel to Cyrene from Rome. Not until then, my son." She took his face in her hands and kissed him on both cheeks, then quickly upon the lips. "Farewell, my son. Farewell, son of Odenathus. Farewell, rightful King of Palmyra. Until we meet again may the gods watch over you and care for your safety."

Quick tears sprang into his eyes, but he forced them away. "Farewell, my Mother," he said in a tremulous voice. Then his voice grew stronger. "No man has ever had a mother as wonderful as you, Zenobia of Palmyra. May the gods watch over you until we meet again! I love you, Mother!" He quickly returned her kiss and then as quickly turned away, leaving her to say her good-byes to Flavia and Julia.

"I will look after him as if he were my own," Julia quickly said, seeing her old friend's face begin to quiver. She lowered her voice. "For goodness' sake, Zenobia, do not give way to tears now! The children have all they can do not to cry themselves."

Zenobia breathed deeply, and replied, "I'm all right now, Julia, it's just that I cannot remember the last time that Vaba told me that he loved me."

Julia laughed. "You are a sentimental woman for all you deny it, Zenobia. I will write to you, and I shall tell you all."

Zenobia nodded. "Thank you, Julia. I know I may rely upon you. You are so fortunate. You shall see the baby long before I do. Be sure that he knows of his great heritage, and of me."

"I will, Zenobia! I most asuredly will." Julia hugged her friend and then gave way to her daughter.

"Oh, Majesty," Flavia said, openly teary, and clung to the queen.

"Flavia," Zenobia admonished her daughter-in-law gently, "I am relying upon you to watch over Vaba and see that he does nothing foolish. Dear girl, what a joy you are to my son, and I am so grateful to you for that! Take good care of yourself, and of the child." Zenobia kissed the girl then stepped away from her. "The gods protect you, and my grandchild." The queen turned and walked from the courtyard and back into the palace. She would not stand mere painfully watching until me vast caravan was out of sight. Instead, she returned to her gardens and walked amid the torchlit paths. Beyond the high garden walls she could hear the soft plod of the camels' hooves, and me tinkle of their harness bells as they wended their way down me back streets toward the gate to the western road.

The sound beat itself into her consciousness until suddenly she was aware that it was gone, and the night was silent. Only then did Zenobia sit down on a little marble bench in the most secluded part of me garden and weep bitterly, unaware that Aure-lian, hidden in the shadows, observed her. When she returned to her apartments he awaited her, greeting her as if nothing unusual had happened, making passionate love to her in the deepest part of the night, holding her until she slept, exhausted with the emotion of her son's departure.

The next day was a busy one, for Bab and Adria had begun to pack all me queen's belongings for the trip to Rome. Zenobia was anxious to leave now. Palmyra was no longer hers, and the pain of that knowledge was too great.

She was granted permission by Aurelian to leave the palace and visit her father. She was carried through the streets in a closed litter so that the people might not see her. Aurelian had no fear that she would try to escape. Where would she go? Besides, he had Zenobia's daughter with him at the palace.

Zenobia was conducted to her father's bedchamber by Tamar. Zabaai ben Selim was close to eighty now, and seeing him propped up in his bed, Zenobia realized that her father did not have much more time to live. Yet he was sharp and fierce in mind even if his body now failed him. In his time he had fathered forty sons and a daughter. He had one hundred fifty-two grandsons, and forty-three granddaughters, over three hundred great-grandchildren, and ten great-great grandchildren. His own people often likened him to the Hebrew patriarch, Father Abraham.

"It is Zenobia, Zabaai," his elderly wife said. Tamar was seventy-five.

"I can see her!" the old man snapped. "Come closer, my daughter. Come closer so I may feast my tired eyes upon your fresh beauty."

Zenobia bent to kiss her father. "As always, you spoil me with flattery, Father."

"I hear stories about the Roman, about you. Are they true?"

"Would you have me plunge a dagger into my breast in remorse, Father?"

The old man cackled. "By the gods, my daughter, you are a survivor! Good for you! Follow your own instincts, and do not be led by the opinions of others. Do you love him?"

"I detest him, but if I can outlast him then perhaps I may get Vaba restored to his rightful place, Father."

"Hmm," the old man said. "You are wise, Zenobia. When do you leave for Rome?"

"Tomorrow, Father. Mavia goes with me, but Demetrius will not come. Instead, he skulks through the alleys of the city with a group of young men who call themselves the Brotherhood of the Palm. They claim to work for Vaba's restoration, and the total annihilation of the Romans."