Susu the Palmyrene

By Mary Salome

Illustrated by Helena Domenic

On the day I saved the Palmyrene Empire, I spent the morning lounging on the sunny veranda. It was what I did every morning, what my mother did before me, and her mother before her. Seeing me in repose you might have wondered why my tail would twitch and my ears swivel when I was otherwise so languid. I am, of course, never fully at rest, but on this day, I recognized the iron scent of brewing trouble.

For three generations, my family has monitored the palace from this open-air seat. The first of my lines’ claim to this spot was my grandmother Mau. In 260 CE, when Mau was just a kitten, Queen Meresankh of Egypt gifted her to our dear Queen Zenobia. Mild mannered and sweet, Mau had an M in the marks upon her forehead, bright green eyes, and dark stripes across silver coat. My grandfather’s line brought the fiery fur and fierce temperament for which my mother and I are known. From him we also inherited the dark lines that curve elegantly from the outer corners of our eyes.

My grandmother would groom me when I was a kitten, holding my head in her paws while she licked. I lounged with her in this same space listening to stories of her favorite kittenhood spot in the Alexandria courtyard where she was born. It was there she observed the days-long meetings that Queen Zenobia and King Odaenathus of Palmyra had with Meresankh’s husband, General Timagenes. Mau said the days of sitting and talking looked quite dull. At twilight and dawn, though, when Mau chased bugs through the garden, she saw Meresankh and Zenobia pace the palace grounds in intense, animated conversation. Mau was certain it was on these walks that the most important strategies to expand the Palmyrene Empire were forged.

Zenobia first met Mau on one of these walks and quickly fell in love with Mau’s playful sweetness. Meresankh noticed their mutual affection, and when Zenobia returned to Palmyra, the Egyptian queen sent a cart of gifts to Palmyra to solidify their alliance: chests of gold jewelry; satchels of silver amulets; and one green-eyed kitten in a wicker cage.

Mau was not caged after their arrival in Palmyra – Queen Zenobia was much too kind to cage a cat. The queen gave Mau freedom to roam the busy palace and grounds. She was often by Queen Zenobia’s side when the queen met with visiting scholars and philosophers. My mother, Mishmish, was also blessed to accompany Zenobia. The queen took pleasure in Mishmish’s rich orange coloring, and Mishmish, awe-struck, absorbed the queen’s passionate oration. Even late in life my mother could recite her favorite quote from memory: “For what is the role of art, after all, but both ecstasy and persuasion!”

Queen Zenobia was as graceful as she was busy. When she hosted visiting philosophers and dignitaries she offered the most decadent feasts, with abundant game and fowl, fresh fruit, wine that flowed freely, and even fish rushed from Latakia. The fish was my favorite, and I need only rub against the queen’s ankles to be lifted into her arms and offered morsels. Every guest became a friend – even, for a while, the ones who came from the far north speaking of Roma and regions under Emperor Aurelian’s rule.

Queen Zenobia impressed me with her tolerance toward her subjects. Though Timagenes had been sincere in his devotion to Bel-Marduk, Zenobia’s dedication to that god was nominal, and as queen she was steadfast in her protection of those I’ve heard called “Jews” and “Christians.” Her administration was as stable as any before it, her subjects respected her, and a beloved cat could lounge where she pleased. My favorite memories are of the rare summer mornings when I could sleep past sunrise with the queen, purring beside her, kneading the blankets. Though the whole court mourned when King Odaenathus of Palmyra was murdered, his death did result in our being permitted in the bed. We tried not to rejoice too loudly in this change, lest our joy bring suspicion to the court.

Zenobia loved me and knew me well. She warned the guests and children of the court, “Do not pet her for too long. She is like me. Her affection has its limits.” But when my back arched under their fingertips in muscular reflex, my response looked like pleasure, and they strained to believe her. Those who did not know me or who were slow to learn would ignore the lashing of my tail, petting me past the point of my comfort. I had no choice but to stop them — quickly, with my teeth — but I was never scolded. Queen Zenobia would laugh and gently chide them for ignoring her advice and my clear warnings.

On the day I saved the Palmyrene Empire, though I began the day lounging as usual in the sun, by late morning violence charged the atmosphere. I heard shouts and a great clamoring around the palace. While humans prepared to fight and other cats scattered in fear I jumped to the railing and watched the Roman chariots below. My queen was bound in the back of a wooden cart. I lashed my tail and narrowed my eyes at the guests who would dare to treat such a kind, intelligent, and beautiful queen so rudely.

I did not hesitate, but neither did I run. I knew the Romans saw no need to mind the movement of a cat, even one as beautiful as I. Down the stairs I strode unnoticed and leapt beside the driver of the cart that was Queen Zenobia’s prison. I rubbed my head against the driver’s leg, an invitation, and he stroked my head and back. My muscles rippled and I rubbed him again, begging him to provoke my most unrestrained response. He obliged and I was overcome. Faster than he could move away I sank my teeth into his hand! He cried out and flung me onto the back of one of the horses, where I must have dug my claws in to keep from falling because the horses whinnied and reeled, pulling the cart forward and tossing the driver to the ground.

Queen Zenobia’s loyal supporters took hold of the chaos like reins, drove the excitement to their advantage, and freed her from the cart. I fled the stomping hooves and flying blades for the shelter of a nearby tree, where I watched the Palmyrenes defeat the Romans in bloody battle.

The queen’s loyal supporters left not one Roman standing to bring word of what had happened back to Rome, so Roman reinforcements never arrived in Palmyra. Aurelian was soon distracted elsewhere, for once the Romans lost Palmyra, it was as if a leg of a table collapsed, and the entire Roman Empire followed. A year later, I was by Queen Zenobia’s side nursing my first litter as she formalized alliances, starting with Egypt and eventually extending as far away as Éire.

Someday, my daughters will serve our queen and claim my spot on the sunny veranda. I am Susu, Granddaughter of Mau. Defy me or defile my queen, and you will dwell forever in the charnel ground you have sown with your own lack of heed.