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Authors: Bertrice Small

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BOOK: Beloved
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At the hour appointed for the funeral the public crier gave notice according to ancient custom, going about the city and saying, “The citizen, Lucius Alexander Britainus, has been surrendered to death. For those who find it convenient, it is now time to attend the funeral. He is being brought from his house.”

Lucius Alexander’s funeral was well attended, for he had been a respected man. He was escorted by many to the Alexander family tomb, which stood along the Appian Way on the road to Tivoli. Afterward the family hosted the funeral dinner, and their nine days of sorrow began. The emperor and his wife had come, of course, and Marcus had seen Carissa deep in conversation with her uncle.

“I can only hope,” he warned her later, “that you have done nothing foolish.”

The nine days passed slowly. Within the house Dagian and her daughters carefully packed up all of Lucius’s belongings until very little trace of the man remained except within their minds and hearts. Carissa, no longer confined to her room, spent most of her time lying about, eating outrageous delicacies that she had
ordered the kitchen to prepare for her alone, and having her golden hair brushed, did not bother to help.

Marcus and Aulus spent the time preparing their father’s trading house for sale. The younger Alexander son knew a man who would be more than delighted to have the business, and would cooperate with the two brothers in marketing their goods from Britain and from Palmyra. Since they could not leave the house or conduct business during this time, however, they could do nothing concrete. Finally the nine days were over, and Julius Rabirius was contacted. As expected, he wanted the Alexander business interests; offered a generous amount for them; and agreed to deal with Aulus Alexander Britainus exclusively in Britain and Marcus Alexander Britainus in Palmyra.

Eusebia and Lucia, assured that their mother would be well taken care of by her sons, returned to their homes. They had both been gone several months, and their own families needed them. Lucia, the sister nearest to Marcus in age, spoke the thoughts that had occurred to both sisters before they departed.

“Will we ever see you or Aulus again in this life, Marcus?”

“I do not know,” he replied honestly. “I have given Aulus permission to form his own family, independent of mine. You and Eusebia belong now to your husband’s families. Mother has decided to return to Britain with Aulus, and will be a part of his family. Zenobia and I will found our own family in Palmyra. I think it unlikely that we will meet easily again.”

Lucia began to weep softly, and Marcus comforted her. “It is not easy for a family to part, dear sister, but it is the way of the world. Nothing ever remains the same. The seasons change; the years change; often too quickly to suit me, but none of us can hold back time any more than we can hold back a sunset or a dawn. One moment we are carefree children, the next we are grown, and as suddenly we are old. There is nothing for it, my sister, but to enjoy that which we have, and not waste time bemoaning what we do not have. Give thanks to the gods that we are all happy and taken care of, my sister. So many are less fortunate than we of the Alexander family.”

“You make it all sound so simple,” Lucia sniffed.

“That, my dearest sister, is the secret of life. We spend so much time seeking the solution to it; and what it all boils down to in the end is simplicity.”

The sisters departed, Lucia north to Ravenna, Eusebia south to Naples. Now it was time for Aulus and Dagian to leave for
Britain. “What of your Zenobia?” asked Dagian. “Have you written to her of your marriage, and what you plan to do?”

“If I were to communicate with my beloved the message would certainly be intercepted by the emperor. I have here with me one of the queen’s own personal guard who will go before me when I am ready to return to Palmyra. He will take my message then, but I fear to send him before I am ready to leave myself.”

“When will you go?” Aulus asked.

“Not until I receive word that you and mother are safe from imperial retribution.”

“It will be over two months before we can get word to you, Marcus. Dare you wait that long? You have already been gone three months from Palmyra.”

“I do not have a choice, Aulus. Only when my family is safe can I act.”

He escorted them to the western gate of the city, but there they were stopped. “I am sorry, Marcus Alexander Britainus,” said the centurion in charge of the gate, “your brother is free to return to his home in Britain, but neither you nor your mother may leave the city without the emperor’s permission.” Realizing the futility in protest, Marcus turned to Aulus. “Go, brother. I will care for our mother, and see that she eventually returns to the land of her birth. Make ready a place for her, Aulus.”

Dagian nodded her agreement. “Give my love to Eada and the children,” she said, and then she hugged him tightly. “I will come soon, I promise you, Aulus. It is not meant for me to die in this foreign land.”

The two brothers embraced. Both had tears in their eyes as a thousand memories assailed them; memories of happier times when they had been one family. “We will meet again, Marcus,” Aulus said softly.

“Perhaps,” was the quiet reply. “Now, go, youngster! Never forget you are an Alexander! Never allow your children, or their children, to forget it.”

Then Dagian kissed her younger son tenderly. “I will come as soon as I can.”

“Take my chariot, Aulus. Without Mother it will help you go quicker,” Marcus said.

Aulus climbed down from the raeda, which was a large, heavy, covered wagon with four wheels, drawn by four horses, used for family travel. One of Dagian’s slaves hurried to remove his scant baggage, and store it in Marcus’s elegant chariot. Quickly Aulus
climbed aboard the chariot, and with a quick smile at both his mother and his older brother he drove off down the Via Flaminia. Dagian’s eyes were wet with unshed tears as she watched him go.

They spoke little as the raeda rumbled back through the streets of the city, and out into their suburb. Startled servants hurried to greet the wagon as it entered the grounds of the Alexander house. Marcus helped his mother down and quickly gave orders that her baggage be returned to her rooms, then together they hurried into Marcus’s study. Tenderly he settled his distressed mother, pouring her some wine.

“How did Aurelian know that we were leaving?” Dagian wondered aloud.

“Carissa,” was Marcus’s flat reply. “The bitch has an uncanny instinct for survival.”

“Then why let any of us go?”

“You, Mother, are the only hostage he needs, and that is why you were forbidden exit from the city. Aurelian knows that as long as I must worry for your safety, the safety of his whore and his bastard are assured.”

“What of your Zenobia?” Dagian asked.

“I do not know,” he said helplessly. “How can I send her a letter explaining
this?”

“What of her personal messenger, my son?”

“The Palmyran was found strangled in his quarters early this morning, Mother. I did not tell you because I did not think you would need to know. I expected that you would be on your way with Aulus, back home to Britain.”

“There is more to this, Marcus, than meets the eye,” Dagian said thoughtfully.

“I know that, Mother, but what is it?
What is it that Aurelian really wants?”

“You would do well to ask me that yourself, Marcus,” said the emperor, striding into the room. “Good day to you, Lady Dagian.”

“How did you gain entrance to my home?” Marcus demanded angrily.

“I was visiting my dear niece, Marcus. Surely you don’t object to a fond uncle visiting his favorite niece. She is quite pettish as her pregnancy advances, I find, and suddenly, my dear Marcus, she grows fat. Carissa should not allow herself to grow fat. It coarsens her. I do hope that after she has delivered the child you will insist she regain her divine form.”

“I will leave you,” Dagian said, rising.

“No,” commanded the emperor, waving her back into her chair. “I wish you to hear what I have to say to your son, Lady Dagian. It will save him the trouble of repeating it.” He turned back to Marcus. “You wonder aloud at my purpose, Marcus. It is really quite simple. Of course it was necessary that I supply Carissa with a husband, due to her state; but it might have been any of a number of young patrician fops rather than you. I chose you because you were the betrothed of Palmyra’s queen. It serves my purpose well.

“You see, Marcus, I know the history of Zenobia’s youth. I know how she has hated Rome for the murder of her mother. I know how, as a child, she watched her mother’s murderers as they slowly died. I know how after Odenathus’s death your love for each other grew, and her hate subsided; but that hate is still there, Marcus. It exists just below the surface, waiting to be rekindled. I intend to rekindle Zenobia’s hatred of Rome. Her cooperation does not serve my purposes.

“I do not want Palmyra ruled by a client king. I want it returned to a Roman governorship, as it was in the great days of the empire. I want to return imperial Rome to her glory, and I have already begun with the resubjugation of Gaul. In the East Zenobia has kindly subdued all, and now I will subdue her!”

“She has shown no disloyalty, Caesar. You have no just cause.”

“I will have,” Aurelian smiled. “When Palmyra’s queen hears that her lover, the man she expected to marry, has married another …” he chuckled, and then said, “I expect that her fury will know no bounds. She will want to revenge herself on Rome once more, and believe me, Marcus, she will try. When she does I will do what any Roman emperor would do when faced with a threat to the empire. Your fair Zenobia will walk in golden chains behind my victory chariot, Marcus. A year, two at the most if she is as good as they tell me she is in battle, but she will crown my triumph, and settle me firmly upon the throne sooner or later. The empire will be preserved.” He paused, looking at the stunned faces of his audience. “It is but an added bonus that she is beautiful. I always enjoy making love to beautiful women, especially if they are intelligent as well.”

“If you touch Zenobia …” Marcus suddenly had come to life again.

“My dear Marcus, you’re a married man with a pregnant wife. For shame, dear boy!” He chuckled indulgently. “Oh, you may have her back when I am through with her … if she wants to go to you. Of course, I imagine she will be quite piqued with you.
Quite piqued, indeed.” He looked to Dagian. “I can trust you to look after my little Carissa, Lady Dagian? A young woman having her first child needs the comfort of an older woman.”

“I assumed that was why you forbade me exit from Rome, Caesar. If you had but told me it would have saved me a great deal of packing and unpacking,” Dagian said tartly.

“I will allow you to return to Britain when Carissa is safely delivered and Zenobia of Palmyra is properly beaten. You have my word on it, Lady Dagian. Until then you must content yourself to remain with your eldest son.”

“As Caesar wills it,” Dagian replied acidly.

Aurelian chuckled again, then spoke once more to Marcus.

“I do not think the city is good for Carissa right now. You have two days in which to pack all you need, and then you will depart for an imperial villa in Tivoli. You will be forbidden Rome once you leave. Only when I have the Eastern provinces firmly under imperial control again will you be allowed to return to the city.”

“My business requires I remain in Rome, Caesar. I will give you my word not to leave the city, but you cannot exile me from it.”

“You have sold your father’s trading business to Julius Rabirius, Marcus. I know that he has agreed to broker for both you and your brother. You may communicate with him, of course, but be advised that every message you send will be read by me before it goes on its way. I will allow you no chance to warn your queen of my plans for her—and the Eastern Empire.”

“Are we restricted to your villa, Caesar?”

“I think for the time being, Marcus, that it would be wisest.” He rose from the chair in which he had been sitting and stopped before Dagian, who remained seated in a gesture of disrespect he did not miss. Aurelian smiled brightly and bowed to her. “Good day to you, Lady Dagian. I hope I shall see you soon again. Come, Marcus, walk out with me.”

The two men left the study, and moved into the atrium. “Make no mistake, Marcus,” the emperor said quietly. “If you attempt to warn Zenobia of my plans, or plot against me, or embarrass my family, I will act swiftly. Do you understand, Marcus?”

“Yes,” was the terse reply.

“Good,” Aurelian said. “Now I have a project for you to do. I want a detailed map of Palmyra, and her border fort, Qasr-al-Hêr.”

“The gods curse you, Aurelian!” Marcus swore angrily. “It is
bad enough that you make it appear to Zenobia that I have betrayed her. Must you also see that I do so in fact as well?”

“I wish to take Palmyra with as little bloodshed as possible. A blackened city with a dead populace is of no use to us. Your lovely queen will fight me to the last man if I let her. It is her reputation to do so. If I can prevent this I would prefer it so.”

“Caesar. I cannot betray Palmyra any more than I could betray Rome.”

“I understand,” the emperor replied, and then with a quick nod he was gone.

With a deep sigh Marcus returned to his study. Dagian was gone, and he was alone. Wearily he sat down, reached for the wine, and poured himself a full goblet, which he quickly drained and as quickly refilled. He stared into the dark red liquid, which mirrored his own face, severe with sleeplessness and worry. He was trapped. If Dagian had been allowed to leave Rome perhaps he might have made a run for it; but, of course, Aurelian had had no intention of allowing it. He drained the second goblet, and felt its warmth beginning to suffuse his body.

The emperor was correct in all he said. When Zenobia learned of his marriage to Carissa, she would, of course, assume another Roman betrayal. If only Longinus could hold her in check … But in his heart he knew that Longinus would not be able to do so. Hurt, she would seek to hurt.

Oh, beloved, he thought sadly, Aurelian will eventually crush you, for never have I known such a determined man. But then, you are a determined woman. Perhaps you will prevail over him if the gods will but allow. May they guard you, and protect you now, my beloved, for I cannot.

BOOK: Beloved
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