My whole body was shaking now. But I had to continue and so I did, holding my breath as I walked in front of the first target. I thought I could hear the men’s arrows quivering in their bows, but I did not allow my pace to slow. I kept putting one foot in front of the other until I reached the middle target.
God, harden my flesh so that nothing can puncture it. Let nothing enter me from now on but Your strength.
“Release!”
This whoosh of arrows was not so great as the others, it did not completely block out the sun. I closed my eyes. I will not cower. If I die now I will be the Queen Who Died Bravely. Air rushed across my face. I remembered Xerxes reaching out a hand so massive that I could see nothing else for an instant and then the rush of air against my lips as he tore my veil from my face to look at me for the first time. Goodbye, my king.
Three arrows thudded in quick succession, one on top of the other thud thud thud. Then there was only quivering—in front, behind, and above me. I waited for an arrow to enter my body. But the only movement was the quivering of the arrows that had hit the target around me.
I opened my eyes and reached for the end of an arrow’s shaft not more than a cubit in front of my eyes. It went still as I wrapped my hand around it. I took a deep breath, pulled it from the target, and turned to face the men. Their arrows slackened in their bows and almost unanimously they lowered their arms.
I stepped out in front of the arrows around me. “I am your queen,” I cried loudly enough for my voice to be heard throughout the hall.
Hundreds of unbowed soldiers stood before me. All except Parsha had lowered their arms, even the Immortals whose targets were fifty cubits to my right and left, but not a single one bowed.
“I am your queen,” I cried again.
My voice echoed through the court so that I heard it even after I spoke. Some of the men shifted their weight uneasily, perhaps unsure if they should bow. They seemed to be looking around from the corners of their eyes, waiting for someone else to be the first. Soon the awe I had inspired would fade away. But whether they bowed or not, they would know my voice. I would give each man who would try to kill me, and especially the one who succeeded, a new name: coward.
“Last night, men no more skilled than boys and with not half so much honor killed six of you in order to break into my bedchamber and take my life. They too were Immortals. My old faithful servant stopped them.”
This did not seem to go over well with the Immortals. There was some muttering, and in some of their eyes I saw a deadening, a wall forming again between us. I knew I must make clear that I did not wish to insult any of them except the ones who wished me harm. But also I would not try to appease them. I did not need their love. Their fear was enough.
“You cowards who want me dead, will you not kill me now?”
No one spoke but some of their eyes grew wider. I saw approval and even awe in some of them. The thing I most feared was no longer trapped in my head, the secret thought we all shared would no longer be the center of each silence. I let the silence enlarge my words until they filled the entire courtyard. I tried to breathe normally as I looked from one pair of eyes to another. I was certain that no man whose gaze locked for an instant with mine would find it easy to kill me.
I waited to speak again until I had given the men enough time to see that it was Dalphon and Parsha who I had fastened my gaze upon. “I was chosen by Xerxes, who was chosen by Ahura Mazda.” I took my gaze from Dalphon’s stony face and looked again at the other Immortals who stood unbowed before me. “You who will do the bidding of cowards and come to kill me in the night, you are thieves. The one you wish to steal from is none other than Ahura Mazda himself. Your true crime is not against me, or Xerxes. It is against god.
“So think before you choose who to ally yourself with: a man who hires others to do what he knows he would be a fool to undertake, or the most powerful man in the world and the god who made him such. For those who choose foolishly, the gallows will be a relief that will not come as quickly as desired. Ahura Mazda has put me here and no man will suffer lightly for going against him.”
There was commotion along the western wall where my guard was being held up by Dalphon’s refusal to step aside. My escort pushed past Dalphon, and he stumbled back against the western wall. No one rushed to his aid.
“Even if you take my body you will not take me from this palace. Ahura Mazda has put me here and if you do not believe it, then kill me now and watch how I will haunt you.”
Dalphon glared at me from eyes as narrow as his father’s. I did not glare back. Only those who are afraid of losing, or who have lost already, narrow their eyes like that.
“Kill me!” I yelled. “Make me stronger. Free my spirit to follow you through all your days so I can rain upon all the happiness you would ever have known. Free me—take away my limits!”
I raised the arrow up over my head and extended my arms out to include the whole room. “Or greet me as your queen. It is not yet too late.”
No one bowed but I did not lower my arms even though they shook slightly. I lifted my chin. I would not take back my call to them. I looked hardest at those Immortals in the first row who could not see that no one else bowed. They did not stand so tall as the others. I hoped they would bow beneath the weight of my gaze.
There was movement within the ranks as one Immortal pushed through the others and limped out in front of them.
Erez.
His face was black and blue, his ear mangled. His dark eyes stared into mine as though trying to tell me something. Perhaps the same thing he had said before pulling me from my bed, Forgive me.
He came to where I stood in front of the target. He knelt stiffly, setting his bow and arrow at my feet.
It hurt to look at Erez, but I did not look away. He knew that many of the men behind him would have been happy to put an arrow in his back, yet, still, he knelt before me.
The four men of my guard followed Erez’s lead. They knelt where they were along the western wall of the courtyard, keeping their eyes upon the other soldiers, still on guard for me.
I stood tall and looked harder at the Immortals in the front line. I focused my gaze upon their faces as if memorizing each feature in order to tell the king.
They began to kneel—first one, then another, then many at once. Soon the entire first row of Immortals was kneeling, and then the Immortals in the second row, and the third, and the fourth. One after another, like a great wave. This sight was accompanied by a lovely sound that was so quiet I had to concentrate hard to hear it: bows and arrows being laid upon the ground.
Parsha did not kneel, and neither did the men around him. Dalphon, also, stood tall, and with his gaze kept some of the other Immortals from kneeling. I addressed the men around the brothers. “The king will need to know of this”—I moved my eyes over each man who still stood—“treason.”
The word treason brought the men to their knees. Only Parsha and Dalphon still stood.
Soon the other men started to shift around, growing agitated at having to remain kneeling while the twins refused. For an instant I wondered if I should tell all the men to rise, as though Parsha and Dalphon were too unimportant to concern myself with, or if I should let them all wait while their resentment at the brothers grew. I waited. I wanted to see an entire room kneeling before me.
“Two men stand while all others kneel. Two men”—I pointed the arrow at Dalphon and Parsha, then made a sweeping motion across the room—“keep hundreds upon their knees.”
There was grumbling from among the ranks of Immortals and even from the common soldiers. I was uncertain whether it was the brothers or me who caused the men to grumble, but I suspected it was not me.
I looked again at Dalphon and then at Parsha. Though they remained upright, they were silent. Perhaps afraid to say something blatantly treasonous. Their silence enlarged my courage.
God, thank You for not allowing me to back down.
Dalphon turned and walked
from the court. Parsha stumbled through the men kneeling beside him and followed his brother from the court.
I addressed the men. “You are the best warriors in the world, and I will tell the king I have seen this for myself. You are the great king Xerxes’ warriors. And now, mine as well. Rise.”
The men—all of them—rose, armor clanking, and looked at me expectantly. I noticed Erez wince as he used his hand to help push himself to his feet. I could not dwell upon this. The men had just knelt for me, and surely this made them uncomfortable, and they wished for me to reassure them that I was worthy. I would give them what I had come to give them, enough of a story for them to fashion a legend from.
“I am not so unlike you. I too learned to live without parents too soon. Even while they lived, I woke up in a hut with no servant but myself, I used my hands for work. I slept sometimes with a belly that rumbled from hunger and went to market knowing I needed more than my sigloi could buy.
“Perhaps this is not what you wish to hear from a queen. I had hoped you would be happy to see a girl of humble origins ascend to the highest position in the world that a woman can occupy. But perhaps you do not want to give your lives for a woman who has been as lowly as some of you once were. Perhaps you want to fight for people who are closer to gods than men.
“And this you will do when you fight for me.”
I walked toward them until I could clearly see their eyes and discern their lips through their beards, still I looked closer. I looked at their scars. One man was missing half of his nose, another was missing an eye. One man had a plate over his hand and I wondered how he could hold a bow. My gaze lingered on him a moment. Maybe I could hold a bow too.
“It is you who brought me to the king’s harem, the place from which the king chose me. I did not want to be here any more than you wished for me to be. But now that I am here”—I looked at Erez—“I know it is where I belong. With your help, Ahura Mazda put me here.”
That is as close as I would come to telling Erez I forgave him. His dark eyes had not always held the warmth for me that I wished for, but they had always held something better: strength. I saw that he wanted, just as badly as he had outside the king’s bedchambers the first time I entered them, to give me that strength. I would show him that I was no longer a girl.
I did not falter as I said, “I am named after Ishtar: goddess of love, fertility, war, and sex. I am crafted in her image. My body is mortal, but my soul is invincible.
“As are yours. The sons of the empire, including those I will bear soon, will know of your valor. Before mothers send them to their dreams each night, they will be reminded of your struggle at Thermopylae and how you triumphed. We will tell them of your valor at those Greek cities you have conquered and those you will conquer yet.”
There were grunts of approval at my prophesying.
“You were born at this time and in the places you came from so you could be part of history. You will be written of in the hearts of maidens. Boys will dream of one day being like you. Elders will tell tales of you and scribes will capture them. You will live forever in the hearts, dreams, and scrolls of Persia. As long as men populate the earth, you shall live.” I was speaking now as much to myself as to them. “You will never die.”
A cheer went up from the men.
I looked at Erez. “You have shown yourself a leader of men here today, and the king will hear of it.” I moved my gaze onto the men. “The king will also hear of the officer who committed treason by not bowing to his queen.” I stared for a moment at the men who had stood around Parsha and Dalphon, the men who had been the last to kneel. “He will also hear of those who foolishly fired arrows while their immortal queen walked before them.
“This better man”—I pointed to Erez—“will command here today. Go back to preparing to enlarge the empire. The scribes will not wait for you to be victorious before they write history.”
I was queen, I did not need to look to Erez for a response. But before I could stop them my eyes sought his. He bowed his head slightly, and then lifted it not as high as another man might have—not as high as Parsha, Dalphon, or their father—just so it was level with mine. “It is an honor, Your Majesty.”
Even with a feeling of power still coursing through my veins at my seeming imperviousness to the men’s arrows, I was not able to do all I wished. I could not say “thank you” aloud. I could not even look grateful.
I threw the arrow up into the air above the men with strength I had not known I possessed. The man who caught it kept it raised up above his head and cheered even louder than the others. I turned toward the southern exit. “My chambers,” I said when my guard rushed up around me.
As I left the men, I felt the weight of my crown. But I also felt the strength of my neck, and the power of the men’s awe. I would not have to support the crown’s weight all on my own anymore. Hundreds of men would help to keep it balanced atop my head.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
* * *
THE BROTHERS’ BLOOD
It was not long after I returned to my chambers that the king called for me. I knew he must have spies, and I hoped it was these men, and not Dalphon or Parsha, who had told him of my visit to the military court.
I could not read his expression when I entered the throne room. His eyes were as wide as I had ever seen them. I was relieved that he no longer looked sad, but I did not like that Haman was the adviser who stood closest to him.
To everyone but me, the king said, “Leave us.”
I had just stood between hundreds of men and the targets their arrows were trained upon. There at least I had been able to see where the danger might come from. I felt certain Haman had filled the king’s ear with things that could do me as much harm as any arrow.
He did not leave, and I realized the king’s order had not included him. The adviser’s face was red, though not red enough to hide tiny bright patches of crimson—hives.
“What urge is strong enough to propel a queen into a military court filled with armed men?” Xerxes asked.
“The urge to make you proud, my king. If I am to be assassinated, first I will show the men the full force of the little Ishtar you have chosen to be their queen. If assassins will not kill me there, if they must creep through the night”—I looked briefly at Haman—“then my death will be more of a defeat than a victory for them. The true victory, my king, shall be ours.”
Haman’s breathing was audible now, jagged.
“Why did you send Haman’s sons from the court?”
“They would not kneel.”
“You are not kneeling either.”
I crossed the space between us and dropped to both knees. “I am always kneeling for you, my love. I am kneeling whenever we are in the same room, and every time you are mentioned, and whenever I think of you.”
“Who is it that mentions me, and what is said?”
“I ask how to please you.”
“You must not have asked if standing before my men would please me. You stood where a king would stand.”
“I stood there for you, for your choice of queen. I stood there to honor and defend you, Your Majesty.”
“You think I need to be defended from my own men?”
“From some of them.”
“And which are these?”
I had already been bolder than Hegai would have liked, so I did not say what I wished to, The one beside you and his sons, men you should not allow within striking distance of you. Instead, I said, “I am not wise enough to know, my king.”
“Rise,” he said. Then, without taking his eyes from mine, he shouted to men I could not see, “Bring forth the traitors.”
From behind a screen, four common soldiers dragged out two men naked but for the blood that coated most of their bodies. “When Haman heard of his sons’ traitorous disobedience, he ordered that they be stripped of their uniforms and whipped.”
Hegai had not lied when he said the hierarchy is a vine that grows thornier the higher
you climb. Still it was hard to believe that Haman would sacrifice his own sons to gain influence with the king. I could not tell if they were alive. When Xerxes commanded the soldiers to release them, neither Dalphon nor Parsha reached out a hand to cushion his fall upon the tiles. Stripped of their differing spears, both wearing the same uniform of blood, I could not tell which was which.
“I left them alive so they would kneel before you as they should have done in the military court.”
The king nodded to the soldiers, who began yelling at the brothers to rise onto their knees. When yelling did not move Dalphon and Parsha, the soldiers began kicking them. I knew the sound would haunt me even more than the image of blood and whatever else it was that flew from them as they were kicked with such force that they moved along the tile like sacks of grain. A couple of cubits, then a couple more . . . but not as far as I wished. I wanted them as far as possible from me.
I had not expected that I might someday feel pity for Haman, but I could not help it when I saw that though he tried to hold his face rigid, his lips twitched and then began to tremble. It was a more sorrowful sight than if a river had flowed from his eyes and pooled on the tiles upon which his sons lay barely alive.
Xerxes was watching me closely. I knew it was not because he flinched from the sight and smell of men dying. He watched for my reaction. I realized that without knowing it I had stepped back—partly away from the king and partly away from the beating, as though I could not decide which was the greater threat.
I remembered the story Ruti had told me of King Saul’s mistake in leaving Haman’s ancestor, the Amalekite king Agag, alive. I knew Ruti would say we must work to correct King Saul’s mistake. But bile rose up into my throat. I could not pretend indifference any longer or I might lose the contents of my stomach. The soldiers would spread word of my weakness and the whole palace would be laughing at me before long.
“I have seen as much as I want to,” I said.
The king held up his hand. The look in his eyes was cruel, satisfied. “Enough,” he said to the soldiers. “We must keep them alive until they are well enough to kneel to their queen. Only then will I allow them the mercy of death.” He turned to me. “When you are ready, little Ishtar, I will allow you to slit their throats, drive spears into their hearts, or kill them by whatever other means you would like.”
Esther Page 23