Esther

by Rebecca Kanner

  Ruti came to stand near me. She tipped a goblet up to my lips while an Egyptian physician cleaned my palm. He applied a salve that burned worse than the blade Halannah had used. When I screamed the physician turned to Ruti. “Poppy tea.”

  The tea was bitter but Ruti whispered in my ear, “It will take the pain from you.” Still, my palm felt as if it were being divided by fire over and over again.

  And then I felt nothing.

  I dreamed I watched a silver blade enter my palm and emerge from the other side a beautiful shade of crimson.

  I woke on a soft mattress, with a servant in attendance on either side of me and Bigthan standing at the foot of the bed. My palm was bandaged. Ruti was gone, but I could feel the Faravahar against my chest.

  I looked beyond the servants to see where I was. Colorful wall hangings surrounded me on three sides, golden vases decorated each corner, and statues of lush, nearly naked women looked vacantly from all along the edges of the room. Against one wall was a curtain.

  “Where am I?”

  “Your new chambers,” Bigthan replied.

  I stared at him to see if he would laugh or sneer at his jest but instead he bowed his head slightly, and added, “Mistress Esther.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  * * *

  MISTRESS ESTHER

  The next time I entered the harem it was behind Hegai. I was only briefly rejoining the virgins in order to pick seven handmaids from among them.

  The women looked at me with curiosity, taking in my rich crimson robe, the bangles of silver and gold upon my wrists, and my carefully arranged hair. Two servants had spent the entire afternoon putting it into a hundred small braids which were then woven higher and higher, each one piled upon another, all except those that were twisted together and wound in a circle around my head like a crown.

  Hegai told the women, “Seven maids will tend Ishtar in her chambers.” A few women gasped to hear Hegai call me Ishtar. “They will enjoy the sweet white wines of Jerusalem, the rich reds of Sardis, and the poppies of Egypt. Musicians will play for them whenever they wish, day or night.

  “And each will owe thanks for her new life to Halannah. If it were not for Halannah, we would not have to move Ishtar to a place where her offerings can be kept safe, and we would not have to give her seven handmaidens. Handmaidens who will enjoy the pleasures of her new status with her.”

  The only person more surprised by my new position than the women of the harem was me.

  Hegai had come to see me shortly after I had awoken from the poppy tea and Bigthan had called me “Mistress Esther.” My mouth was nearly as dry as it had been on the march. I would learn that this was one of the effects of poppy tea. Out of the corner of my eye I had seen his purple robe and tall white turban. I had almost fallen off the mattress rushing to stand with my head bowed before him. I had ignored the pain in my palm.

  From beneath my lashes I had watched him gazing upon me. “Ishtar,” he said.

  I glanced up to see whom he spoke of. Perhaps it appeared to him that I was answering to my name.

  He had several servants with him and he signaled to one of them. A gold plate was placed over my palm to hide the bandages. It was held in place with gold chains. Though it was awkward and made it hard to move my hand, Hegai commanded the servants to fasten it tightly. As if he could see my thoughts, Hegai had told me, “It is not supposed to be comfortable.”

  I bowed my head again. It seemed the safest thing to do with the head eunuch.

  “Halannah threatens my position by making it look as though I do not properly examine girls or preserve their innocence once they are here,” Hegai said. “You have stood stronger than anyone else against Halannah. I have battled her by myself for years, knowing I could never win.”

  He came to stand not more than a couple cubits from me. Servants rushed to put a stool before him. He stepped onto it and placed a soft finger under my chin, raising my face not all the way up, but just enough so my eyes were level with his. “Until now.”

  Up close I could see that his eyes were a light, saffron-speckled shade of brown. Below each was a dark bag of purple flesh, not so unlike the purple of his robe. The intensity with which he gazed at me made me want to step backward, away from him, but also to stand up straighter and meet his gaze with one just as forceful. I did not allow myself to move a hair’s width in any direction.

  “The women cheered for you, Ishtar.” He ignored the surprise on my face. “I will help you win the king’s love, and you will repay me by helping to protect the harem. I do not want to send another broken vessel to the king. Watching over virgins is the one thing I have been tasked with, and as often as I have succeeded, I have failed.” His voice deepened so that he almost sounded like a normal man, causing me to wonder again if he were truly a eunuch. “You want to help them, do you not?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Then you must listen carefully. You are no longer a child. You cannot just do whatever you would like.”

  “But I would like to help them.”

  “You have a strong spirit, but if you do not control it, it will destroy you. The first thing you must always do is think before you speak or act, or you will lose your chance to do good. Even when you think you are not watched you must be careful of what you say. There are a hundred unkept secrets for each of the many peepholes in the palace.

  “Second, do not waste time trying to convince yourself that everything you do springs from pure and selfless goodness. And certainly do not waste mine. I cannot tolerate girlish silliness. Whatever path you take to save a child from a burning hut does not matter so long as the child ends up safe in your arms. Think like someone cruel—cruel people think clearly. They are completely focused on their goal and they do not waste time on remorse.”

  He turned my head from side to side.

  I must confuse him, or he would not study me each time we meet.

  “Do you waste time on remorse?” he asked. “That is something Ishtar would not do.”

  I did not want to tell him of my parents. Still, he had asked me a question and I had to think of some response. But he quickly dismissed whatever I was going to say. “Do not tell me of it. It does not matter.”

  I pressed my chin down hard against his finger. It does matter.

  He laughed. “Without my she-beast here you are a fierce little dragon, just like Halannah. You have the fire within you that the king has come to enjoy. But it is a precarious task to enchant a king. You will have to learn to appear fierce and submissive at the same time. That is the task of womanhood, and you must master it while you are still a girl.”

  I was still pressing my chin down against his finger. He dropped his hand and my chin fell to my chest. “If you fail in this—after all I intend to do for you—I will throw you back into the harem and allow Halannah to torture you as much as she desires. This will be no small amount.”

  He continued to study my face.

  “I see you do not tremble at this. At least, not that I can see. Perhaps instead I will cover you in the blood of a wildebeest and leave you alone with my cat.”

  “Do you wish her to develop a taste for human flesh?” I asked.

  “Do you wish her to develop a taste for human flesh, my lord.”

  “My l—”

  He had already turned and begun to walk from the room. “Come,” he said.

  And now I stood looking out over all the women, some of whose eyes were filling with hatred for me, and some of whom looked at me with admiration.

  “Choose your seven, Ishtar,” Hegai ordered.

  I had told Opi I would watch over her, and I would, whether she liked it or not.

  “Opi.”

  Opi did not rise from where she sat by the pool. My hand began to throb more violently beneath the gold plate. To distract the women from Opi’s insolence, I quickly chose another. I pointed at the girl who had cried loudly beside me at our first meal. If any girl needed rescuing, it was she. She began to
cry harder. Bhagwanti looked at the crying girl with disgust. Perhaps she scorned the crying girl because she herself would welcome being my maid. I pointed to her. She turned her disgusted gaze upon me.

  Not one of the three girls rose from her cushion. Another girl, one I did not recognize, stood and bowed. “I am Utanah of Shushan, and I would be honored to be your humble servant.” As soon as the words left her mouth other girls rushed to stand and offer themselves as handmaidens as well.

  I looked to Hegai. His eyes were narrowed upon Utanah, but he offered no counsel. I chose her and three others. One girl with a broken lip, one who stuttered as she declared her loyalty to me, and one whose body looked more like a boy’s than a woman’s. I hoped these girls would be grateful, and pay for their gratitude in devotion.

  I turned back toward the entrance of the harem, as though confident they would follow, and left the huge room with Hegai. A beaded curtain had been strung across the doorway of my new chambers so no one could sneak up on me. I was relieved to hear the beads continuing to rustle against each other for a couple of moments after I entered, long enough that seven girls could have followed me.

  I went to the table crowded with bowls of fruit and platters of dates and honeyed almonds. They were like the fruits in the main harem room, except larger, completely without blemish, and as shiny as though they had been polished to just short of bursting. I took some grapes and reclined upon the silken cushions. “This is ours. You have only to ask and these devoted women”—I gestured to the three servants who stood around the room—“will rush to bring you whatever you desire.”

  The crying girl fell upon the nearest cushion and continued to cry. The four who had asked to be handmaidens also made their way to the cushions. They looked around, taking in the colorful wall hangings, golden vases, and statues of plump, bare-breasted women.

  Bhagwanti came to survey the food, then sniffed and sat down without taking anything.

  Opi did not look around and she did not come farther into the room. She stood by the doorway, as if she might sneak away.

  “Opi,” I said, “we are not confined here. We can still relax in the harem room.”

  “I am glad my mother is not alive to see that I have been made into a servant for a harem girl.”

  “You are not a servant. You will not wash clothes, fetch salves, clean, or stand by with wine waiting to refill my goblet. You will do only simple tasks, dress me—”

  “If you told me right now to come rub your feet, could I refuse?”

  The other girls were looking on. Though the word felt like a rock almost too big to spit from my mouth, I forced it from my lips. “No.”

  Utanah knelt before me and bowed her head. Her dark brown hair fell over the sides of her face. Her eyelashes were so long I could clearly see each one despite the heavy lining of kohl around her eyes. I wondered why such a beautiful girl had not been with Bhagwanti, the crying girl, and me in the first group of girls. “Mistress, what do you wish me to do for you? I am yours.”

  “Right now all I wish is for you to enjoy this”—I gestured to the bowls of fruits and platters of dates and honeyed almonds—“and recline with me to listen to the musicians.”

  “Oh!” The crying girl looked up. “I was afraid I would never hear an oud or harp again.”

  One of the servants pulled back a curtain to reveal a screen. The outlines of the men with ouds, harps, flutes, and a drum sat unmoving, as if waiting for something. After a moment I realized they waited for my command.

  To reward Utanah for her loyalty, I turned to her. “What would you like to hear?”

  “I would like to hear whatever you would like to hear, mistress.”

  “Play whatever song is at your fingertips,” I told the musicians.

  It was a happy song they played. I could see the quick plucking motions of the oud player’s hands and the long strokes of the harpist’s. The crying girl had stopped crying, but tears flowed from a couple of the other girls’ eyes. Even Opi seemed moved. She stayed by the entrance but cocked her head to one side, listening.

  Utanah kept beckoning the servants to refill our goblets. I wondered if I should be the one to do this, but I said nothing. I continued to drink; I was enjoying the girls’ company and each drink dulled the pain in my palm a little more.

  When Utanah started to sing everyone joined in. We drank all the wine, and I sent to the kitchens for more. “Just leave the pitchers. You are dismissed,” I told the servants when they returned. We drank until we fell asleep to our own crying, singing, and laughter.

  I woke to a shout: “Do not move, lizard.” It was Opi’s voice.

  In the light of the lantern high up on the wall, I could make out Utanah standing over me with a cushion. When she saw my eyes open she lowered the cushion and said, “I was watching over my mistress. Your safety is my greatest concern. I took the cushion from this conniving Nubian before she could smother you.”

  Opi spoke from where she had rushed up beside Utanah. “If I held that cushion you would not have been able to take it from me.”

  Utanah ignored her. “She is not faithful like me, she is bitter and full of treachery.”

  I yanked the cushion from Utanah’s hands. “You are dismissed. Hegai will decide what to do with you.”

  The girl’s mouth twitched. “Mistress . . .”

  I waited, but she did not go on. I flung back the curtain. Bigthan stood outside the door.

  “Are not you the one who is supposed to protect me?” Before he could answer, I continued, “Escort Utanah to a guarded cell, and tell Hegai that his loyal servant humbly requests an audience with him.”

  Utanah did not protest as she was taken away.

  While I waited to hear from Hegai the mood in my chambers was somber. I wondered if I would ever again be able to safely close my eyes. The crying girl was still overfull with wine. She laughed and cried and laughed and cried until I told her to be silent. Then she only cried.

  When the servants returned, the girls did not eat much from the platters of dates and almonds or drink the honeyed milk that was offered. I forced myself to eat and act unafraid. Mordecai had told me that a ruler’s greatest task is figuring out who to trust. So far only Ruti and Opi could be trusted.

  Opi had returned to standing by the door. “Thank you,” I told her. “Your action is worth far more than any empty show of loyalty.”

  “It is usually the ones who smile the biggest who mean to do you harm,” the crying girl said.

  Opi continued to gaze at the side wall, as if she could not bear to see the girls she was trapped with for the next year. “With me they do not have to smile,” she said.

  “Perhaps they do not wish to do you harm.”

  “And this is the biggest insult of all. Everyone thinks I am too foreign and ugly to win the king. You yourself do not believe my mother was the king’s mistress.”

  The other girls looked to see my reaction to this insolence. The girl with a cut lip gazed at me with something no one had ever gazed at me with before: fear.

  I forced a smile. “Everyone may return to the harem. All but Opi.”

  Once they left I walked toward Opi, trying to intercept her gaze. “I do believe you.”

  She turned her head to avoid eye contact. “You are polite. And I do not mean this as a compliment.”

  “Because you saved my life, I will allow you one moment of insolence, though you are wrong. If I were polite, Halannah would not have tried to destroy my face and we would not be here now.”

  “You are too polite to me. I do not like it. You never know what someone who is polite is thinking, you must puzzle over it all the time you are with them. I prefer the girls who spit at my feet. They leave me free to think of my father, what a strong and agile archer he was, and of my mother, who was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her. Vashti’s spirit killed her, but if Vashti had not done it, some other woman would have.”

  “I will not try any longer to talk you out of you
r anger. Think of all you have lost if it helps you.”

  “Nothing helps me.”

  “I’ll help you if I can.”

  “I will not trust you. This way if you do not follow through I will not be wounded by it, if you do I will be happy for a moment. But likely I will never know what you would do, because I do not think you will be queen.”

  “In front of the others you will treat me as though I am.”

  It was the first time I had spoken harshly to her. She looked me in the eye for only long enough to say, “Yes, mistress.”

  “When I am queen, you will be able to sit by the pool all day and no one will glare at you or spit at your feet unless they wish to be made into a kitchen servant. I will not forget the debt I owe you.”

  Opi turned away and held up her goblet for a servant to refill.

  “You may stay as long as you like,” I said, “but you are free to return to the harem if you wish.”

  She drank two goblets of wine in quick succession and left without another word.

  I had some wine and thought of the person who brought me the most joy: Erez. When Bigthan entered he looked at my chest, frowned, and said only, “Mistress,” before turning to leave. I realized my hand was wrapped around the Faravahar. I tucked it back under my robe, dropped my arm to my side, and rose to follow Bigthan down the hall, through a massive marble doorway, and into chambers that made my own seem a hovel.

  Hegai sat on a throne with a golden headrest to match the gold on his fingers. The throne was so large he looked like a child. His feet did not touch the ground, and I could see now that his purple robe was too big. It was gathered partly in his lap and sat limply on either side of him. His she-beast sat beside him wearing only a crown of flowers. Her nostrils flared as I entered the room.

  I bowed my head slightly to Hegai, without completely taking my eyes off the beast, and said, “Your humble servant is grateful for an audience.”

  “What do you desire, child?” Hegai asked.