"What of the servants' quarters?" Zenobia asked.
"They are separate from the house, Majesty."
"It will not do," Zenobia said. "You and Bab cannot live in slave quarters."
"There is a nice room off the kitchen, Majesty, but the cook tells me that the slaves use that room to eat and rest when they are not going about their chores."
"More than likely they use that room to hide from their duties," Zenobia noted.
"Just what I thought," old Bab said. "They're a lazy lot from what I've observed so far, my baby."
"Then we shall have the emperor replace them," Zenobia said with a laugh. "That room off the kitchen sounds just perfect for you and Adria. I hope you will not mind sharing a room, but we are obviously cramped, and I want you both here with me."
"Shall I give orders to have the room cleared, and beds brought for Adria and me?" Bab asked.
"Send the majordomo to me," the queen said, and a few minutes later when the man stood before her Zenobia gave the orders to remove whatever furniture was in the room by the kitchen, and bring sleeping couches for her two serving women.
"Why can your women not sleep in the slave quarters like everyone else?" the majordomo demanded.
"Because," Zenobia said, "they are not slaves, and I want them here in the house with me. Hear me well, Crispus. If you should ever question my orders again I will punish you. My orders will be obeyed without question! Go now and do my bidding!"
"Will the emperor be coming tonight?" Bab asked.
"I do not know, old woman, but if he does not I shall send him a message tomorrow demanding that all the slaves in this villa be replaced. I will not suffer rudeness from a slave."
"Come out into the garden, Majesty," Adria said, "and see how fair it is. It will cool your anger."
Zenobia smiled at the girl. "Let us go, Adria, and see this garden that so delights you."
The three women walked through the villa's interior garden and out into the rear of the building. Zenobia gasped with delight. At the foot of the garden the blue river flowed merrily by, and across it the mountains rose green and fair. Upstream a magnificent waterfall ran white and frothing over the high rocks, and plunged in a wide crystal ribbon into the river below.
The garden itself was neatly laid out in colorful flower beds, all accessible by the crushed white marble paths. Zenobia saw roses and lilies in profusion, along with sweet herbs and small fruit trees. There were violets, both purple and white, and sweet pink stock and brightly colored wall flowers within the beautiful garden. It would be a' lovely place for Mavia to play. There were several large shade trees nearer the river, and some marble benches for sitting.
"You are right, Adria. It is lovely."
"You will see, Majesty, that we are separated from the neighboring villas by a low wall, and although we can see our neighbors, no one may intrude unless we invite them."
"Good day to you," came the voice from across the wall, and the three women turned, startled. There stood a tall and very beautiful woman. "I am Dagian, the empress's friend. It was my pleasure to prepare the villa for you, Queen Zenobia. I hope it is satisfactory." She walked over to the waist-high wall.
Zenobia moved over to the wall, and smiled at the woman. "I thank you, Lady Dagian. The villa is a bit small, but it will be most comfortable, I am sure. I do, however, wish to remove the slaves there, and replace them with my own people."
"I am sure," Dagian said, "that all you need do is inform the emperor of your wishes, and he will give his permission."
Zenobia looked closely at the woman to see if her remark was merely a statement, or a sly innuendo; but Dagian's face was as smooth as a mill pond. "Will you join us, Lady Dagian, in a cup of wine?" the queen asked politely.
"I should like that," the older woman replied, and walking to a small gate that was set within the wall, she opened it and came through.
"Bab, Adria. See to the wine, and have a table brought. I have an urge to sit in the garden."
The two servants hurried off to do their mistress's bidding. Zenobia indicated with her hand a nearby marble bench, and invited Dagian to sit. "Are you also an imperial captive?" she asked.
"Of sorts," was the reply. "I come from a land to the west, and for many years I was married quite happily to a wealthy Roman. When my husband died almost two years ago, the emperor forced me to remain here in Rome in order to blackmail my eldest son into doing something he did not want to do."
"That's Aurelian," Zenobia replied bitterly.
"You do not like the emperor?"
"I despise him," she said. "Oh, I know, Lady Dagian. You have heard that I am the emperor's mistress, and it is true; but like you, I have been blackmailed. My eldest son and his family live now in Cyrene under imperial protection, my little daughter and I have been brought here under the emperor's personal care. Like you, I have no choice. Mothers are vulnerable creatures."
Dagian nodded, fully understanding Zenobia's position, but wondering how well Marcus would for all his assurances to her. Obviously Palmyra's lovely queen did not realize that she was the mother of Marcus Alexander Britainus, and Dagian thought that perhaps that fact was better left unknown for the present. Then she caught her breath as a small child emerged from the villa, followed by a nursemaid. The little girl ran across the garden and up to Zenobia.
With a smile the queen caught the child to her and kissed her, and the affection between the two caught at Dagian's heart. It was as she had suspected. Zenobia was a good and loving mother. If Marcus wanted his daughter back he would have to win her mother over first. Zenobia looked up, and said, "This is my daughter, the Princess Mavia. Mavia, this is the Lady Dagian."
The little girl looked up, and Dagian felt her heart contract. The look was Marcus's! Could not Zenobia see that look was that of her new acquaintance also? "How do you do, Princess Mavia," Dagian said softly.
"Lady Dagian," the little girl replied. "I am pleased to meet you. You have blue eyes, as I do. I have met few people with eyes the color of mine. Marcus had blue eyes like mine, but he went away."
"Mavia!" Zenobia sharply reproved her daughter. "It is not polite to mention people's personal appearances."
Dagian longed to take the precious child upon her lap and kiss her. Not only did she have Marcus's deep-blue eyes, but she had his chestnut-colored hair as well. It was a wonder that Aurelian hadn't made the connection, but perhaps he had. She shivered.
The slaves arrived with a small table, which they placed in front of the marble bench, and Bab came carrying the wine and Adria, behind her, the goblets. The old woman's mouth was set in disapproval as she set down the wine.
"In Palmyra," she said, "we would not have given our slaves wine like this."
"I do not understand," Dagian said, distressed. "I gave orders that the finest Falernian be bought for you. I ordered it myself in the town at the wine merchant's shop."
Bab held out a goblet into which she had already poured some of the beverage. 'Taste, my Lady Dagian. Is this what you purchased?"
Dagian sipped the wine, and her face was a study in quick anger. Her mouth made a little moue, and she spat the wine she had taken onto the grass. "This is awful!" she said furiously. "Either the wine merchant tried to cheat me, or the slaves have stolen what I bought and replaced it with inferior wine, hoping you would not notice."
Across the garden hurried the majordomo, full of importance, as puffed up as a frog. "The emperor comes!" he announced.
"Crispus," Dagian said severely, "this is not the wine that I bought from the shop of Veritus Pomponio. I suspect that you and your cohorts have stolen that wine! Now the emperor comes, and how can the queen serve him such swill?"
The majordomo blanched and fell to his knees. "Help us, Lady Dagian! We can return the wine you bought, but not now!"
"You deserve to be flayed alive, but the queen must not be embarrassed." She rose and, smiling at Zenobia, murmured, "I shall send one of my slaves over with some good vintage for Aurelian, and I will see you tomorrow if it pleases you."
"Yes," Zenobia said, "it will please me if you come-and thank you." She, too, rose, and escorted her new friend to the garden gate that separated their villas.
"Good-bye, Lady Dagian," little Mavia piped up.
Dagian turned and, bending, kissed the child on the top of her head. "Good-bye, little Princess," she said before hurrying through the gate into her own garden.
When she turned back, Zenobia and Mavia were already hurrying hand in hand across the garden toward the villa. Dagian paused beneath a tall shade tree and breathed deeply. She had not dreamed that she should see her granddaughter so soon. She remembered Marcus! That was good. Perhaps the child would be the bridge that joined her two proud and stubborn parents.
How beautiful Palmyra's queen was, Dagian thought. She was quite different from both Roman and British women, yet the golden skin, the blue-black hair, and the storm-gray eyes combined with her marvelously aristocratic features to make her fairer than any female Dagian could ever remember seeing. She was intelligent, Dagian realized, and that would have attracted Marcus as well.
Zenobia, before re-entering her own villa, had looked back across the gardens. Dagian seemed a pleasant woman, the queen mused, but was she someone whom she might trust? I need a friend, Zenobia said to herself. She was so alone here.
"Hail, Caesar!" Mavia lisped, and Zenobia turned to see Aure-lian standing within the entry of the house.
"Go to Charmian, child," Zenobia ordered.
"Yes, Mama," was the obedient reply, and Mavia was gone.
"You never give me a chance to really know her, goddess. Are you afraid I will corrupt her?"
"I never know what you will do, Roman," Zenobia said coldly.
"You are angry about the triumph," he said.
"I was paraded the length of Rome, naked for all to see!"
"Yet I have not humbled you, have I, proud bitch?" He reached out for her, but Zenobia skillfully evaded him and, brushing past him, gained the inner garden.
"Do not touch me, Roman! Not now! Not ever!" Jupiter, she wanted to get away from him, but she didn't know where to go! It was an infuriating situation.
"Oh, goddess, are we to fight again? I thought we had done with fighting." His voice was very patient.
"Hear me, Roman! I will be your whore because there is no other choice for me; but I will never forget your actions toward me today."
"So you will be my whore," he said softly, but his narrowed glittering eyes belied the gentleness of his voice. "You will be my whore because you have no other choice? If it is choice you desire, my beautiful goddess, let me assure you that every patrician with a pair of balls between his legs would like me to pass you on to him when I am tired of you. I am not tired of you, but if it would please you, I can do as the Emperor Caligula once did, and indeed make a whore of you. How would you like to spend your nights servicing every rich and randy cock in Rome?"
She looked into his eyes, and was suddenly afraid because she saw in them a terrible determination. He would make her whore with every man in Rome if in the end she returned to him pliant and obedient; his woman, and his woman alone. "No," she said low. "No, I should not like it, Roman." Oh, how she hated him for making her feel so helpless; she who had ruled an empire. He delighted in it, the bastard!
"Where is your room?" he demanded.
Zenobia looked at him, and then began to laugh. "I do not know," she said, the tears rolling down her cheeks at the absurdity of the situation. He was ready to assert his rights, in reality to rape her, and she had absolutely no idea of where her bed was.
"Haven't you inspected the house yet?" He was looking outraged.
"There was no time," she said. "I arrived, and there was difficulty with the slaves. I want to replace them tomorrow, Roman. Then I went to see the gardens, and the woman in the next villa, a friend of the empress's, came from next door." Zenobia shrugged helplessly. "I have not seen the house at all. I did not realize that you would arrive so quickly."
"I left the games shortly after you did, goddess. Without you they were boring. I had to see the empress safely to the Palatine palace."
"You should have stayed with her, Roman. She is ill. Even I can see she does not have a great deal of time left to live; and she loves you. How can you leave her?"
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