"No, Apollodorus, it is not your fault; but take the other goblets of wine, being careful to mark each one, and tell me if they, too, were poisoned."
The physician stood and, moving to the table, quickly began lifting each goblet and sniffing carefully at it. When he had checked every goblet in the room he looked at Zenobia and said, "It is not necessary for me to make a further study, my Queen. Every goblet but two was poisoned. All in this room but two would have died had they drunk."
Zenobia looked to Odenathus's oldest sons. "Why?" she asked, knowing they were the quiet ones.
It was Linos who answered. "Because I should be the next king. I was the eldest son, not Vaba. Odenathus was going to formally invest Vaba as his heir tomorrow."
"But why everyone, Linos?"
"If you were all dead the people would have to accept me. Besides, the emperor promised that he would support me."
"Gallienus?" Zenobia was shocked.
"He always secretly held my father responsible for Valerian's death at the hands of King Shapur."
"Valerian was responsible for his own death, the fool!" was the sharp reply. Then Zenobia turned to Rufus Curius, and said quietly, 'Take your wife from the room, Rufus Curius."
The commander of Qasr-al-Hêr led his numb and sobbing wife out. Whether Deliciae wept for Odenathus or her sons even she did not know.
Zenobia drew her older son forward, and Longinus lifted the boy up onto the dining table. "The king is dead," Zenobia said in a strangely strong voice. "Long live the king!"
"Long life to King Vaballathus!" the men in the room took up the cry.
“No!" Linos shouted, but it was his last word. Akbar ben Zabaai moved quickly behind the young man and slit his throat. Vermis screamed but one word-"Mama!"-then the blade silenced him forever.
"Take them out into the desert and leave their bodies for carrion," commanded the high-pitched voice of the new king. "They have killed our father, and do not deserve the honor of a burial." His young voice was strong, but he looked to his mother for corroboration. Her nod was barely perceptible.
"I think that the king and his brother had best be taken to bed now, Majesty," Longinus said. "It is necessary that we call the council together immediately. A check must be made to ascertain if anyone else was involved in the plot against the royal family. The city must be secured against possible uprising or outside attack. The people should be informed, then assured that all is well."
Zenobia nodded. "So be it. See to finding the council, and send my guard to me. Tell Rufus Curius to return immediately." She turned to face the others in the room. "I must ask everyone here to please remain."
As she continued to give detailed instructions to Longinus, Antonius Porcius moved next to Marcus Britainus and said softly, "What do you know of this?"
Marcus's face was grim. "Nothing," he answered. "I have always avoided being involved in imperial politics. I can only suppose that the weak fool, Gallienus, made wild accusations in one of his drunken moods; but how he managed to involve Linos and Vernus, I do not know."
"It is obvious that there is an imperial spy here in Palmyra," was the reply.
Marcus looked at Antonius Porcius in surprise. "I am not an imperial spy," he said.
Al-Zena chose that moment to re-enter the room. She walked slowly over to the fallen body of her son and gently smoothed his brow. Odenathus's face was peaceful in death, and although he was but thirty-eight, he looked much younger. Sorrow had etched deep lines in his mother's once proud face, and she who so valued her appearance was oblivious to the fact that her face was dirty with tears. Sadly she shook her head. "I had him such a little time," she said.
Zenobia moved over to her mother-in-law and, in the first gesture of affection that she had ever shown the woman, put her arm about her shoulders. "I do not understand it," she said to Al-Zena, "but surely it is the will of the gods. Why else would this man be taken from us?" Gently she led the grieving woman back to the door, calling to old Bab, who had been in the dining room all along. "Take her to Ala, and stay if you are needed."
Bab nodded and, putting an arm around Al-Zena's waist, led the woman off down the corridor.
Rufus Curius re-entered the room. Turning to him, Zenobia said, "Rufus Curius, I am placing the king and his brother in your charge. See to their safety."
"You can trust me after what happened?" The centurion's eyes misted.
"I do not blame you, Rufus Curius. The damage was done to Linos and Vernus before you became their foster father. I know you did your best, and I thank the gods you have your own children, that Deliciae has something to live for despite this tragedy. Please now, escort my sons to their quarters and arrange that some of the men of my guard watch over them. Then see to your wife, for I know tonight's events have left her devastated."
Rufus Curius saluted his queen, and then bowed to the young king and his brother. "If your Majesty will allow me I will escort you and Prince Demetrius to your apartments."
Demi hurled himself into his mother's arms, weeping, and Zenobia soothed him as best she could, kissing away his tears and chiding him gently that his father would want him to be brave. Firmly she disengaged his hold about her neck, and placed his small hand into the centurion's big one. Young Vaba bowed in a courtly way before his mother, his face grave. "Good night, Mother."
Zenobia reached out and, pulling him to her breast, hugged him tightly. "Good night, my lord," she said, her voice strangely tight. He drew away from her and, nodding to Rufus Curius to go, almost ran from the room.
Watching him go, she sighed. He was so young to have this responsibility thrust upon him; yet a boy. Tonight his childhood had ended-or had it? Was it really necessary for Vaba, only twelve, to be laden with such responsibility? Perhaps she could give him a year or two more before she must teach him how to be king. He would be the better for it, she knew.
The council began arriving, staring at first in shocked fascination at the dead body of their king. Only when they had all come did Zenobia give the order that her husband's body be removed and prepared for its funeral. "Sit down," she commanded, and they quickly obeyed her, seeking seats about the dining table. "I am appointing Antonius Porcius to the Council of Ten to replace the king; and Marcus Britainus will have temporary command of Palmyra's legions. Are there are objections?" Her gaze swept them.
"Antonius Porcius has long been a resident of this city," Marius Gracchus said. "Although he was not bom here, he chose to remain upon his retirement. He has married into one of our most distinguished families. I can find no fault with the queen's choice. In the matter of Marcus Britainus, however, I am confused as to why the queen has chosen him over a Palmy ran officer."
"The king trusted him," was the reply, "and so do I. He has had several years of military experience with the Praetorian, and it is precisely because he is a Roman that I have chosen him. Rome trusted my husband, and gave him great powers. With his death I do not want them sending someone from Rome to oversee our armies. Rome will not find any fault in my choice, and we shall be left alone."
"Then it only waits for Marcus Britainus to accept your appointment," Marius Gracchus replied. He looked directly at the Roman, his glance searching and not entirely trusting.
Marcus was totally surprised by Zenobia's decision, and he could see the hostility in many on the Council of Ten. He wasn't sure exactly what it was she was asking him to do. Vaba was far too young to take over his father's command, and Rome was eventually going to send someone out. Obviously she wanted a little time to organize the government. He could aid her without being disloyal to Rome; but more important, he would have constant access to her.