Bertrice Small - Beloved

Gaius Cicero looked at them, and knew in that instant that they would not be separated. He knew that they would die first, or that his old friend, Marcus Alexander Britainus, would even set their long friendship aside and slit his throat before he would let Gaius take her back to Rome. He didn't know why the senate had changed their minds, but, he reasoned, how important could it be? Aurelian's execution was a certainty, and Zenobia was fleeing the empire. He could see that she posed no danger.

"I came ahead of my soldiers," he said. "There is no one to know that I saw you. Who will contradict me when I say that your ship had already sailed when I reached Portus?"

"Thank you, my friend," Marcus said gratefully.

"What course do you set?"

"Cyprus," came the answer.

Gaius Cicero's face said that he did not believe for a minute that Cyprus was actually their destination. "I have no order to follow you," he said. "I shall ascertain your destination from the harbor master and return to Rome with my information." Then he smiled at them. "May the gods speed your journey, my friends, and bring you to safety."

The two men clasped arms in the old Roman fashion, then Gaius Cicero turned abruptly and left the ship, walking away into the bustle upon the dock.

Marcus turned and spoke to a nearby sailor. "Is everyone aboard?"

"Yes, sir!" was the reply.

"Then take the gangway up," the ship's owner commanded. Giving Zenobia a quick kiss on the forehead, he hurried off to find Captain Paulus. The captain was on the helmsman's deck. "I have ordered the gangway drawn up," Marcus told him. "Is not the tide turning now?"

"Yes, sir," was the reply. "I am just now giving orders to get underway."

"Change your course," Marcus said.

"Change my course? For where, sir?"

"For Massalia, Captain Paulus."

"If we are to catch this tide, sir, there is no time for me to inform the harbor master."

"That is indeed unfortunate, Captain Paulus," Marcus said thoughtfully, "for I do want to depart now."

"What harm can it do, sir," the captain replied. "We are only transporting our new owner, and his family, and their goods and chattel. It can be of little import to the mighty Roman Empire." So saying, the captain began to give orders, and the ship slowly got underway, taking its place amid the vessels catching this tide.

Marcus Alexander Britainus returned to the main deck below, and stood with Zenobia at the rail, watching the activity of the harbor as Sea Nymph's sails caught the afternoon wind and began to move gradually out into the open sea.

"I remember," he said, and he caught at her hand, "the day that we arrived here from Britain those long years ago. How different it was from my homeland. I never loved Rome the way I love Britain, nor did I love Rome the way I loved Palmyra." He sighed. "I wonder," he said, "if I shall still love Britain. It can be a harsh place, Zenobia. You are not used to chill weather, and Britain can be cold."

"You have told me that the climate is mild on the island where we shall make our home. You have told me that palm trees grow on our island. Palms cannot exist in a harsh climate. As long as the palms thrive, then so shall I, my love."

They had cleared the harbor, and as the Sea Nymph swept into the open sea Zenobia felt a small thrill of excitement. Strangely, the sea did not frighten her, child of the desert that she was. She found it very much like the desert, vast and rolling and ever-changing. It seemed to go on forever, and in the days ahead she found that she could stand at the rail for hours, her eyes seeking, searching, ever watching, for what she knew not.

It had been early spring when they left Portus, and now they would shortly be reaching Massilia, the great and ancient port in that part of Caesar's Gaul known as Narbonensis. Here, the Alexander family would leave their ship and journey up through Gaul, using the roads traveled for centuries by the tin caravans. On the north coast of Gaul they would once again meet up with Sea Nymph and cross the channel to Britain. Because of the dangers of sea travel Marcus had preferred his family to travel by land where safe routes existed. The slaves would remain with the ship; but Zenobia and Dagian's personal servants, Mavia's nurse, and Severus would travel with the family.

At Massilia there was no undue activity about the docks, nor any interest shown in the Sea Nymph or her passengers. Marcus breathed a deep sigh of relief, though he realized that if Gaius Cicero had returned to Rome with the information that they had sailed for Cyprus, there would be a pursuit ordered in that direction. When their pursuers discovered no trace of them, the search would probably be ordered in the direction of Britain; but by then the trail would be cold, and they would be where Rome could not reach.

They left Sea Nymph, and traveled easily and quickly up from the coast bordering the Mediterranean to the coast on the channel that faced Britain.

The weather was pleasant, and they traveled amid the beauty of Gaul with its flower-filled fields and its great forests of oak. It was the forests with their soaring trees and dappled sunlight that made Zenobia nervous. She had never seen such vast expanses of trees, and she did not like being shut off from her sun. The nights they spent in the forests were most frightening to her, and she lay hollow-eyed and wide awake against Marcus, who slept unconcerned by her side. Every hoot of an owl, every unexplained rustle (and the long night seemed full of them) set her heart beating quicker. Zenobia welcomed their arrival at the coast where Sea Nymph waited to ferry them across to Britain.

They sailed from Gaul on an evening tide. By morning they would be in Britain. Zenobia dozed fitfully that night, her entire body attuned to the dawn, and when it came she rose from her place and wrapped herself in a long cloak before leaving the cabin. There was no wind, and the sky was white. Sea Nymph bobbed gently amid the clouds of fog, the only sound the rhythmic splash of the sea against the sides of the ship.

Then, as the sky began to grow a clear blue and the mists were driven away by the rising wind, she saw ahead of her a large island, its white cliffs rising out of the sea. Behind her she heard a step so familiar she didn't even bother to turn. "What is it, Marcus?"

"It is the island of Vectis, and just beyond it is Portus Adurni, where we shall land."

"What makes the cliffs so white?"

"They are made of chalk," he said.

"Interesting," she replied, then added, "Will Vaba and his family be awaiting us in Portus Adurni?"

"No," he said quietly.

"Are they already upon our island, or are they to come after us?"

He sighed. "They are not coming at all, beloved."

"Not coming?" She turned and looked up at him. "Why are they not coming, Marcus?"

"Because Vaba chooses not to come. Cyrene is not the grandest place in the Roman world, but he prefers to remain there with Flavia and their daughter. He has found contentment."

Quick tears sprang to her eyes. "He is rejecting me, Marcus. He is rejecting his own mother! He has never forgiven me for Palmyra, and I doubt he ever will. My children are gone, and I am alone."

"Your children are all alive, although they choose to live their own lives, beloved. Demi was found amid the ruins of the city, and has been nursed back to health by your brothers. He chooses to remain with the Bedawi. So the sons of Odenathus have survived despite all, and we have our daughter! The gods have taken away with one hand, it is true, but they have also given with the other."

She cried then, weeping against his chest until her sorrow was finally purged. Then, sniffing loudly, she looked up at him. With a loving smile he kissed her on her nose, and she had to laugh softly, for it was the sort of thing a mischievous little boy would have done. "I love you," he said, "and we are about to begin a new life. Put the past behind you, Zenobia. Only today and tomorrow matter."