by Tessa Afshar
When I finished my tale, she shook her head. “First, let’s get you well. Then we shall deal with everything else.” She was ever practical, my Pari.
When dark humors and despair threatened me, she would distract me if possible, and let me mourn when my heart was too full to bear with distractions. Pari’s care coupled with her cheerful outlook proved the best remedy for my battered body. Within ten days, I was striding about the women’s quarters with little pain.
To my amazement, my adventures with Teispes made me a favorite among the noble ladies and concubines housed in the women’s quarters. I was invited on an endless procession of luncheons and dinners. I began to hide in my room for fear of another invitation.
Damaspia, who was a greater political genius than the king’s brightest advisor, encouraged these visitations by keeping my story alive with her own version of the tale. To hear her tell it, I was the most courageous woman in the empire, and my lord Darius the most dashing hero fashioned by the Creator’s hand. Without my volition, I became more popular than any lady in Ecbatana other than the queen. I knew that my popularity would only last until the next interesting rumor spread. But I also recognized that Damaspia had launched me into Persian society with a vengeance. I may soon be forgotten, but I was now welcome amongst women of rank.
I remembered how badly I had once wanted this, and was surprised to find it of such little consequence. The friendship I shared with someone as humble as Pari was worth more to me than the opinion of a dozen aristocratic ladies.
When Damaspia sent for me after ten days, I thought she wished for me to regale another woman with my gruesome tale of kidnapping, violence, betrayal, and daring rescue. Instead, I found her alone.
She said in her usual direct manner, “Your husband demands that you be returned to him. Without delay.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
I forgot about palace protocol. “What?”
“He says that you’ve had ample time to recover from your injuries, and demands that I send you back to him forthwith.”
“But why?”
Damaspia stretched her foot on an elaborate footrest. “How hard were you hit on the head, girl? You are his wife.”
“What will you do, Your Majesty?”
“Send you to him. Forthwith. I’m not coming between the affairs of husband and wife. Every nobleman from here to Bactria will rise up in worse fury than in the days of Queen Vashti’s disobedience if I do such a thing.” She waved her long bejeweled hands like she was sweeping the air. “Off you go to your husband, like an obedient little wife.”
I stared at her openmouthed for a moment. She had come between the affairs of husband and wife as long as I had been married. My shoulders drooped as I realized the futility of pointing out the queen’s inconsistencies to her. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Pari came with me as I returned to Darius’s apartment. She couldn’t stay there; the residence was too small to accommodate her. But I wanted her with me during that initial interview. I thought her presence would mitigate the awkward opening. A greater coward did not breathe this side of the Nile. The thought of meeting with Darius face-to-face petrified me. What had possessed him to send for me? He should have been relieved to be rid of me without fuss. That’s what he had wanted before Teispes complicated his life.
Instead of Arta, another of Darius’s men guarded our door. I recognized him from the long ride to Ecbatana, and nodded in salutation.
“Meres. Is his lordship in?”
“Yes, my lady. And awaiting your arrival.”
He opened the door after a perfunctory knock, and closed it behind us as soon as we had walked in. Darius spun around to face Pari and me. He was dressed for the hunt in leather trousers and a short tunic whose sleeves gave the appearance of iron scales. It was depressing how the very sight of him seemed to fuel my feelings with fresh power.
“Ha! My truant wife returns at long last.”
“I can see we have interrupted you on your way to riding, my lord. Please don’t let us detain you.” I pointed to his hunting gear.
His smile was dry. “Not at all. I have just returned from the hunt.”
“Oh.”
He ignored me and came to stand before Pari. “And how was your journey to Ecbatana, Parisatis?”
I gaped at my husband. Where had he learned my handmaiden’s full name? And why had he set himself out to charm her, for his manner toward her could have melted an icicle. His warm regard, the way he settled his undivided attention on her, his respectful, courtly manner reduced Pari to another one of his devotees in moments.
“It was very pleasant, my lord. Thank you for the extra care you took in arranging our travels.”
“I’m glad to hear you had a commodious trip. Your mistress sings your praises. And I am told you’ve taken good care of her in her illness.”
Pari turned the color of the roses in the king’s arbor. “It’s no hardship caring for my lady.”
“Nonetheless, I wish to thank you.” He handed her a slip of parchment, which he must have prepared ahead of time. “Here is an extra ration of wheat for you this month. And a lamb. You can have them sent to your family if you wish, with my compliments.”
Pari’s eyebrows went up so high they almost fell off her head. “I’m obliged to you, my lord. I’ve never had such a generous gift.”
“You deserve it, Pari. You may take the rest of the day off. When your lady requires you, she will send for you.”
Before I had a chance to say one word, or to express my wishes on the matter, Pari disappeared from my presence. So much for my human shield.
Darius settled himself on the couch. “You look better than the last time I saw you. I trust you are recovered?”
“I am. Thank you.” It dawned on me that he had kept himself informed of my progress while I was in the women’s quarters. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find Damaspia herself the source of his information.
He extended a hand toward the couch. “Please, do sit.” He was lounging so freely that I would have to practically squeeze myself onto his lap.
“I am comfortable standing.”
“But I insist.”
I perched on a narrow stool across from him, the only other seat available in the tight chamber.
“Your departure seemed … precipitous, shall we say? Would you care to explain?”
“I left a note.”
He shifted a long leg down the length of the couch and let it hang from the end. “And such a touching letter it was too. I had hoped you’d feel inclined to consult me regarding such a decision.”
He studied me with a calculating stare. Pulsing beneath his pleasant countenance was a storm of anger he kept leashed. My leaving had stung his pride, I realized. “I didn’t think you would let me leave if I asked in person.”
“You are honest, at least. Now tell me why you left.”
“I told you—”
“That you wanted women to care for you, I know. Which is why I let you go. I was willing to spare your modesty. But there was more to your actions than the demands of modesty.”
I made a careful study of my shoes. They were beaded and sparkled in the light pouring through the latticed window. “First, I have a question for you. Why didn’t you leave? It’s what you wanted. Until I was injured, you were set on it. Then you changed your mind. You needn’t answer. I know your motive. You felt responsible in some way; but you had no cause. I left, because you stayed for the wrong reasons.”
Darius sprang from the couch so fast I almost toppled backward from my stool. He bent toward me until his face was level with mine. “You are mistaken.”
There was no room in our constrained chamber for someone as long-legged as Darius to pace. He gave it a good try nonetheless, striding about in curtailed steps. He stopped in front of me and said again, “You are mistaken.”
I shrugged and turned away, finding his explosive scrutiny too disturbing.
“I tried to talk to you on the day
of Teispes’s attack, after the physicians had left. But you fell asleep midway through my explanations. I thought I would speak with you on the following day, but by the time the maid had finished helping you, you were so fatigued that I let you be. And on the third day, when I returned to our chamber, you had taken yourself off without so much as a by-your-leave.”
He flung himself upon the couch again. “When I left you in the garden, I was furious with you for your refusal to tell me the truth.”
“I did tell you the truth.”
“Perhaps. But then we both know you lie convincingly. Nonetheless, I managed to calm myself after an hour or two, and persuaded myself that you just might be as honest and innocent as you sounded. Then Arta delivered an interesting report; he said that you were seen emerging from Nehemiah’s chambers without an escort.”
I lifted a hand to my temple. “Yes, I did. He had asked us both, but you were gone, and I did not wish to wait. I am sorry, I did not realize how serious an infraction I was committing.”
“You visited a single man alone? Without permission? Without even a maid for the sake of modesty? Many noblemen in Persia would set aside a wife for less provocation than this. You seem to have a great fondness for the cupbearer.”
“He’s like a father to me!”
“So you claim, but how should I know? At every turn you give me reason to distrust you. Which is why I determined to leave you. That morning I sent both the king and queen a request for separate rooms. Or permission to leave the palace altogether.”
“I know.” But I had not known my visit to Nehemiah had instigated his desire to leave. My transformation from commoner to nobility had been too abrupt. I had yet to internalize the fact that the rules that applied to my life had now changed drastically.
“You only know thus far, and have conjectured the rest. Erroneously, I might add. The truth is that I felt as hard a knock upon my head on that day as you suffered at Teispes’s hands. When I walked into that glade and saw his knife at your breast, my blood ran cold. In those protracted moments of deadly danger, I came upon a few startling discoveries. I realized that I might be furious with you. I might resent some of your actions. But I also was not prepared to lose you.
“I told you as I carried you home that I do not know what to do with you. The evidence of reason will not permit me to trust you without reserve. Yet my heart refuses to believe the worst of you. I am at a quandary, as you can see—divided within myself. I know this much. I will not let you go. You are remaining with me, and I with you, and it has nothing to do with guilt or duty.”
“You wish to remain with me?” I exclaimed with astonishment. I sifted through his words, trying to understand him. I could not keep the sardonic edge from my voice as I said, “You want me against your better judgment?”
His narrow smile matched the edge in my voice. “I want you enough to take a chance. I know you want me. You told me as much.”
I did not bother to refute him. He would no doubt laugh in my face. Thus far, his strange courtship was more like a collection of sarcastic accusations than a declaration of sentiment. He had said nothing of love, nor was he offering trust. And yet, somewhere inside, my beaten-down heart began jumping in jubilation. He wanted me! He wanted me!
With as much caution as my imprudent soul was capable of practicing in that moment, I said, “Without trust, we shall unravel at the first test that comes our way.” Darius turned his perfect profile to me. His nose, straight as an arrow, flared with checked emotion. “It is the best I can offer you, Sarah.”
Not long ago, I expected him to desert me. Whatever his terms, they exceeded my expectations. I jerked my head into an awkward nod, signifying my agreement.
He gave the ghost of a sigh. “One condition. I want your promise that you will speak to me when trouble springs up between us. No more running away. No more unescorted visits to men. No more secrets. We will discuss our differences. You must tell me what goes on in that head of yours; I cannot forever try to guess.”
I shifted on my seat. “I will promise if you make me a promise. Promise me you will be reasonable when I make a request of you.”
“I make no such promise, for I know your concept of reasonable, and it is most unreasonable.”
I swallowed a smile. “I shall make a bargain with you, my lord. I will play you a game of backgammon, and the winner shall have his promise. What say you?”
Darius leaned forward. “Done.”
I was more than proficient at the game. Being familiar with the board, I no longer had need of counting the points. I could see in my mind’s eye where each roll of the dice would land me. I won thrice in a row before Darius began to crush me. He had prodigious luck as well as sound strategy and rolled more doubles in one game than I had rolled in three.
“I believe I get my way,” he said when he had thrashed me for the last time.
“How unusual.”
“Don’t prevaricate. Give me your word.”
“I give you my promise, my lord. No more secrets.”
We had supper alone in the apartment that night. The truce that he had wrought settled around us like a warm blanket. For the first time I was able to believe that he enjoyed my company. He liked being with me. He laughed with ease in my presence and asked my opinion on matters of importance without condescension.
We were trying a pistachio cake sweetened with honey, a new recipe concocted by the royal chefs, when our supper was interrupted by the arrival of a dust-covered messenger.
“It’s from my father,” Darius said as he studied the missive.
“Is all well?”
“Yes. But I need to attend to a few urgent matters. It will take several hours. Don’t wait for me.”
I was relieved as well as disappointed at his departure. So much had happened in the span of short hours. I could scarcely enter into the reality of my husband’s changed feelings toward me. It occurred to me that I owed Teispes a debt of gratitude. It was the sight of his knife pressed against my chest that had caused Darius to change his mind about me. Darkness had its role on this earth.
My prayers overflowed with thanksgiving that evening. I thought of God’s orchestration of events and the unlikely outcome at the end of so many strange turns and twists in recent months. I did not understand His ways. But with each passing day I grew to trust them. I thought of the words I had once spoken to Nehemiah—that I trusted his ability to make mistakes more than God’s ability to make His plans succeed. How little I knew of God’s power, and even less of His love if I thought human sin and error could override His ultimate plans.
When it came time to retire, I decided to give Darius the one gift I could: his bed. I snuggled under the covers of the mattress in the diminutive alcove, which he occupied when I was in the room, wanting him to have the comfort of a bed for the night. I wished fervently to be a good wife to my husband. If I could not admit to loving him, I could at least show my tenderness in caring for his small needs.
I was almost asleep when he returned. To my amazement, he lifted the covers and slipped next to me. I sat bolt upright. “What are you doing?” I squeaked.
“I’m joining you in bed.”
It dawned on me that he perceived my presence in his bed as an overt invitation. I must have appeared as brazen as the courtesan I had once claimed to be. “You think I came here to … you think I was trying to … Great heavens above! I was just trying to get you to sleep in your own bed.”
“I am sleeping in my own bed.”
“Fine.” I rolled out of the other side of the mattress and stomped off to the ornate bed. Pulling the blanket down with jerky motions, I stepped back and bumped into a solid mass. Whipping around with a gasp, I found myself facing a wall of muscle.
“My lord?”
“My name is Darius. You could try using it.”
I crossed my arms. The memory of the last time I had used his name snuck up the coils of memory, leaving a bitter taste on my tongue. “No I could not. Y
ou told me yourself not to be familiar.”
Darius wrapped his hands around my arms, uncrossing them and pulling me forward in one smooth motion. “Lesson number one: you’re talking too much.”
He pulled harder, propelling me into his embrace. Without warning, his lips descended over mine. My eyes widened.
“Lesson number two,” he murmured when he lifted his head. “Close your eyes when I kiss you.” He wrapped one hand about my waist and fitted me to his length. With featherlight kisses, he closed my eyes before kissing me on the lips again.
“Lesson number three,” he said when he raised his head, his voice husky. “Kiss me back. Like this. And this.”
I barely remembered how to breathe when he stopped. “How many lessons are there?” I asked, my voice a thread.
He laughed, deep in his throat. “I’ll show you if you say my name.”
“Darius,” I whispered obediently. It wasn’t the last time I uttered it that night.
I woke up to the warbling of sparrows at sunrise. Darius slept next to me, his sprawled body taking up most of the bed. The pale rays of the morning light illuminated his face. In sleep, he lacked the predatory edge that normally stamped his features. His lips, carved and long, held no hardness. I thought of their touch the night before and turned to slip out of bed, embarrassed by my own ruminations.
A hand wrapped around my arm and pulled me back. “Where do you think you’re going? You must ask my permission to leave, did you not know?”
I snorted with astonishment. “No.”
He nodded. “It’s the truth. In the normal course of things, when Damaspia hasn’t had her interfering fingers in one’s living arrangements, you would be called to my apartments. And you would stay there until I dismissed you.”
I pulled the sheets higher around me. “You plan to be a tyrannical husband, I see.”
Darius fluffed two pillows behind him and sat up. “I’m merely informing you of aristocratic propriety.”