by Tessa Afshar
“Off to the stables we go.”
“The stables?”
“Yes. Surely you’ve heard of them? It’s a place in which they keep horses—those things you don’t ride.”
I had barely slept in two days. A dear animal I had come to love as my own was gone. I faced a journey I dreaded. I had no patience for cryptic remarks. My voice was syrupy with sarcasm as I answered. “Such a fount of information you are. How do you bear being so clever all the time?” There was no hint of offense in his soft answering laughter, however.
At the stables we found his man, Arta, waiting next to a saddled chestnut mare. It seemed huge to me.
“Sarah, meet Kidaris. She’s one of my gentlest horses. But she also has the stamina to keep up with the rest of the horses. You’ll become very good friends over the next few days. Come close and greet her properly.”
No wonder he had insisted on my wearing riding clothes. He wanted me to meet my horse and grow comfortable with her before our early morning departure. And I thought he was baiting me to be annoying. I regretted my acerbic comment and tried to make up for it by being as biddable as I was able.
The horse gave a friendly neigh as I took a faltering step forward. Her pure chestnut coat was marked by a white spot high on her forehead. It looked like a royal tiara. Hence the name Kidaris, I realized, which meant crown in Persian. “Hello, Kidaris.”
“She likes being petted like this.”
I tried to mimic Darius. Unlike his sure, familiar movements, my touch was hesitant.
“No, don’t show her fear. She needs to know you’re in charge from the start. Be confident. Step closer. Let her grow accustomed to you.”
“She’s a lot bigger than I am.”
“Yes, and you’re still in charge.”
I’m in charge I’m in charge I’m in charge. I kept repeating the words in my head, hoping to believe them. Darius handed me a brush and had me gently groom Kidaris. After some time I felt comfortable enough to enjoy being near the horse.
“Good,” Darius pronounced. “Now you must learn to sit properly. This is the most important part of riding. You must sit straight so that your weight is divided equally between the two sides of the horse. If your balance is wrong, you will throw her balance off as well, and she won’t like it.”
He helped me into the saddle and adjusted the stirrups. I could see why I needed the trousers and the split tunic. Darius coached me on my posture. “You’re slouching. And your legs are too far forward. You’ll lose control that way. Keep your seat using your thighs.”
For half the length of an hour he made me sit on Kidaris without moving, critiquing my every fidget. Then he spent another hour showing me the rudimentary lessons of riding. My back was burning by the end of our training. I wondered how I would manage to canter hour after hour, day after day. I felt small and physically unequal to the task.
Pari and I were up late into the night, adjusting the tunic and the turquoise dress Darius had given me. Pari was scheduled to follow in a cart with most of Darius’s and my luggage the following morning, accompanied by two of Darius’s men. I hadn’t thought it wise to bring Pari with me; she was even more unfamiliar with horses than I was, and had told me she harbored a mortal fear of them. So I had arranged for her to travel with the luggage train; they would travel across the main royal highway, which was a longer but supremely more comfortable ride.
She helped me pack a small bundle of my most basic necessities for the days I would be in Ecbatana without her or my baggage.
“What shall I do without you for ten whole days?” I said as we retired to bed. “What if I make another wreck of things at the feast?”
“You will not. You have learned much in the past few months. Besides, I’m certain the queen will send you assistance. Only this time, don’t turn her away.”
I groaned and pulled the covers closer about me. It would be the last time I would have the luxury of a bed for some days. But I couldn’t enjoy it. I missed the weight of Caspian’s solid body resting at my feet.
I lay wakeful through the watches of the night, dreading the morning, certain I would become a nuisance to my husband, and that he would come to like me even less because of it. In my misery, I longed for the comfort of Caspian’s presence more than ever.
Finally I remembered to cling to the Lord and His mercy. Every time a fearful thought rushed against my mind, I turned my attention back on the Lord instead of chasing the trails of my disturbing imaginings. Rather than focusing on my fears, I focused on God. And in the end, I slipped into a peaceful sleep.
Darius was accompanied by seven of his men, the rest having been dispatched on various assignments, or directed to remain in his palace. I was the only woman in the train, and the only one who could not ride. He stayed close by my horse, his black stallion towering over my mare. To my surprise, Kidaris tried to bite the stallion.
Darius leaned close and pulled on my reins with a firm hand until Kidaris turned her head with docile obedience. “Keep your horse under control or mine will hurt you both,” he snapped. “Hold the reins as I showed you.”
“What’s his name?” I asked.
“Samson.”
Taken aback by the Jewish name I repeated, “Samson?”
“My mother named him. He was huge and strong even as a foal. I’ve never trimmed his mane in honor of his namesake.”
So his mother had taught him something of our history and faith. I had no time to process this brief revelation as he signaled us to start our journey. My whole concentration was spent on trying to cling to my horse.
We started our journey at a trot. I could sense that the men were impatient to canter as soon as the road stretched straight before us, but Darius kept the pace gentle for another hour. I realized that he was giving me time to grow accustomed to the movement of the horse. I was at once relieved and distressed by his thoughtfulness. I knew I was a bother to him and his men. That realization more than anything drove me to try to keep up, to push myself beyond my ability. I could not bear the thought that I caused others inconvenience, for I was convinced that they would turn from me. Had this not been a lesson I had learned well in childhood? Had I not proven a nuisance to my own father, who rejected me because of it?
I knew that if I proved useful in some way, I might be tolerated. Perhaps even valued. But deep down, I also knew that except for my linguistic and administrative talents, I had little to offer. I cost more than I was worth. And I wanted with all my might to hide this secret from others for as long as I could.
So after an hour when Darius instructed me on how to canter, I did my best to keep up. I made no complaint when my back began to burn and my thighs started to tremble from strain. I held my back as straight as I could and recited the Scriptures to keep my mind from the pain.
“Are you all right?” Darius asked more than once.
As if I would admit that I felt like my back was breaking. “Perfect,” I responded and ignored his concerned look. I was disconcerted by his solicitous attitude. For a man who showed me the sharp side of his tongue at every opportunity, he was being bewilderingly attentive. In spite of his fastidious upbringing, he had no problem squelching the demands of good manners in order to step all over me on most days. It dawned on me that in spite of his protestations, he had softened toward me as a result of my role in dealing with Teispes.
At the outer edges of the fertile plains of Persepolis, we arrived at a thin stream where Darius called a halt. I could not dismount alone. It wasn’t that I didn’t know how to swing my leg over and down; it’s that my muscles would not obey. I just sat atop Kidaris and hoped someone would fetch me down. Darius did. Without a word, he wrapped his hands about my waist and lifted me off the horse like I weighed no more than a sack of wheat. I found my legs were trembling. Darius must have noticed for he kept his hands about my back and held me up until I gained some strength.
Desperate to free him from having to take care of me I said, “I’m fine now,
thank you.”
One corner of his mouth tipped slightly and he stepped away. “As you wish.”
I wobbled my way to a grassy patch on the side of the road. One of the men was rubbing my horse down with dried grass and watering her. The sun had risen in the sky two hours since and I was almost as sweaty as Kidaris. I stretched on the grass and groaned. I knew it was unseemly to lie down before eight men, but I hadn’t enough reserves to care. We would be on the road soon enough and I did not know how to face the many hours that still stretched before me. I closed my eyes and tried not to think of it.
A shadow fell over my face and I forced my eyes open. “Drink this.” Darius held out a leather container.
“Thank you for your thoughtfulness; I’m not thirsty.” During my previous travels, I had been part of a huge train. There were special screens and tents designed for modesty so that the travelers could take care of their needs with a modicum of privacy. With eight men and eight horses as my sole companions, I’d just as soon not drink anything and hope my body wouldn’t need to relieve itself until the cover of night. I certainly wasn’t about to put any liquid into it if I didn’t have to.
“Don’t be foolish. You can’t ride in the heat without drinking something. You’ll be sick before sundown.”
I sighed and forced myself to sit up. With a bit of good fortune, I’d perspire the lot out of my skin. He tipped the leather container into his own mouth after I had finished and drank thirstily.
“How long do we rest?” I asked.
He handed me a piece of barley bread. “Not long. Once we and the horses have had a chance to eat and drink, we’ll be on the road again.”
By the time we remounted, the heat had become overbearing. I pulled my scarf over my brow, trying to shield my eyes. Flies seemed drawn to the scent of the horses; as we started on a slow trot, they gathered around us in thick hordes. Being unselfish beasts, the horses shared their pests with their human burdens. I was too busy trying to keep my seat to swat them away.
The day stretched long as I rode hour after hour, trying to keep up with men who had sat in the saddle since before they could walk. I became aware that the pace was slow for them; for me, however, it was a torment. I felt dizzy from the heat and constant movement.
To my horror, I could no longer delay the need to relieve myself. It was high afternoon, and bright as the day can be. When we took our break, I looked about me, desperate to find a spot that might offer even a little privacy. I had begun to wonder if Darius could read my mind, for he seemed to know my thoughts with alarming frequency.
“Come with me,” he said, as he perceived me canvassing the area. I followed him with relief to a copse nearby, which boasted a few skinny trees. Not exactly the height of privacy. I gave him an anguished look.
“I will warn everyone to stay away. You’ll be fine here.” If he had so much as cracked one smile I would have forgotten my intentions to be on my best behavior and kicked him. He was too wise to do anything but turn his back and move off.
With a burst of inspiration, I took off my long wrap and draped it over a few bushes like a makeshift low curtain. But when I bent down, my muscles were so weakened from the rigors of riding that instead of squatting, I ended up falling on my knees with a crash.
“Are you all right?” Darius called from somewhere beyond.
“Stay where you are!” I yelled, panicked at the thought that he might take it into his head to come and investigate. “I’m fine.” Humiliated. Degraded. But fine. Had I once really thought I enjoyed traveling?
After this, which proved to be our last rest before we stopped for the night, Darius pushed us hard. Once we left the pleasant plateau of Persepolis, we entered a desert-like stretch of road, which was merciless in its brutal heat. We cantered until I could not even pretend to sit straight. At one point I must have fallen asleep in the saddle, for I woke up with a start when an arm wrapped around my middle. Before I could ask a question, I was lifted high into the air and deposited unceremoniously before my husband in the saddle.
Darius turned around. “Arta, take care of Kidaris, please. Her ladyship will ride with me the rest of today.”
I was wide awake now, trying to sit on my husband’s lap in such a way that did not bring me in close contact with his body. The inconvenient thing about horses is that such a desire can simply not be gratified. I sat as rigid as an arrow not knowing what to do with myself.
He shifted my weight against him until I was leaning fully into his chest. “Relax,” he said into my ear, his voice low and soothing. “Samson is sensing your lack of ease. Stop tensing up and try to go back to sleep.”
For the sake of the horse, I did my best to comply. I melted against Darius, wriggling to find a comfortable spot. I felt the muscles of his chest tense up against my back. “You’re not very relaxed yourself,” I accused.
“Can’t a man have some peace atop his own horse?” he growled.
Surprised at his suddenly foul mood I said, “I’m sorry to cause so much trouble to you.”
Instead of answering, he pushed my body forward onto the saddle, as far away from him as the tiny space allowed. I swiveled my head to look at him. “Am I too heavy?”
“No, you’re not too heavy. Now stop squirming and be still. We have several hours of riding before we break camp.”
Chapter Nineteen
By the time the sun sank into the horizon and we had to stop, sleep wrapped me in its hold again and I barely noticed when Darius deposited me on a dry embankment while he and his men took care of the horses and set up tents for the night. The days had grown long; we had managed to ride a fair distance.
In previous years, when I accompanied the king and queen’s train on their frequent journeys, I had been astounded by the luxury of their mobile accommodations; most palaces paled in comparison with their tents. The court engineers had devised a complex structure made of leather and bronze, containing many rooms, which accommodated royal formalities. Rich hangings, decorations in silver and gold, bejeweled couches, and bronze pillars gave the illusion that we were ensconced in yet another of the king’s palaces, instead of a mere tent. I had heard that the king and his noble generals traveled in similar style even when riding out to war. But Darius’s tents were plain soldier’s fare, ambulatory and light, appropriate gear for the back of a fast horse.
I was past caring. If he had left me on my bit of dried grass, I would not have complained. He had other ideas, though. “Come. Your tent is ready,” he said, crouching next to me. I ignored him, wishing him away so that I could go back to sleep.
“Sarah, get up. You cannot stay out here.”
“Yes, my lord.” I stayed where I was.
He lifted me up and carried me to the tent. The opening was quite low and he had to bend to enter in. I saw through half closed eyes that a lamp was already burning, and that he had set up a bedroll. He dropped me on the thin mattress none too gently. To my surprise, he did not leave.
“Good night,” I said, wondering why he abided.
“I can’t leave you like this,” he said, sounding irritated.
“Like what?” I asked, equally irritated.
“Sarah, this was your first day in a saddle and you’ve ridden for hours. If you think you’re in pain today, you have no inkling of how you will feel tomorrow. Your muscles will seize and you will be in agony.”
I stopped feeling sleepy. “If this is your rendition of an encouraging speech, may I say that it is something short of inspiring?”
“It is no speech. Just truth. You have been brave today, I know. Not one word of complaint passed your lips during the length of the journey. But not all the courage in the world will get you back in the saddle tomorrow if your muscles will not cooperate.”
I broke into a toothy smile. “You thought I was brave?”
“That’s not the salient point.”
“Well, I don’t know what to do about the salient point.”
He placed a small earthen jar
on the bedroll. “This is a balm prepared by the magi, which helps with muscle pain. You need to massage it deeply in order for it to have effect. You can’t apply it at skin level; it needs to be pressed deep into the flesh. Do you understand?”
I opened the lid of the jar and sniffed. It smelled like chamomile and licorice. “I understand. Massage it deep.”
“Show me.”
“Pardon?”
“I won’t have you waste my good medicine by ill usage, nor will I delay my arrival at Ecbatana due to simple ignorance. Show me you know what to do and I will leave you to it.”
“I believe I grasped your simple instructions.”
“Then get on with it. I’d like to rest too, if you have no objection.”
I remembered that he had already made this ten-day journey once, to arrive home and face a dire emergency, a dying dog, and little sleep, and had been forced to carry my weight for the past three hours besides. “I am sorry,” I said and willed myself to sit up.
The sooner I accomplished what he asked, the sooner he would feel released to see to his own comfort. I bit my lip and pulled the hem of my trousers up to my calf. I buried the tips of my fingers into the jar and grabbed some balm. At first I did my best to massage it deep into my flesh, but I had not counted on the pain I encountered at the simple touch. It felt as if my whole lower body was one giant bruise, and no matter where I touched, it hurt. I ground my teeth and did my best to comply with Darius’s instructions.
Obviously I failed. He pushed my hand away and took over the massage himself. I squealed, shocked at his touch, and then forgot my embarrassment as the pain took over. I buried my face in my arms to keep from crying out.
He stopped. “Like that. You need to apply it like that.”
I nodded and sat up again. “I will.”
“Let’s see.”
Once again I took the balm and did my best to emulate Darius’s movements. He stopped me after a few moments. “It won’t do. The salve won’t take effect like this. You’ll have to let me do it.”