“What is your good pleasure, my king?” he shouted above the crowd.
The king chose the opponent, for his entertainment.
Xerxes turned to me and asked, “What shall it be, my good queen? Who, or what, would you see this good man fight?”
All eyes were on me, and I stared helplessly at Cyrus. He stared solemnly back and bowed. I could not know what he was thinking. My mind tried to work, but it was like turning over heavy stones after a rainfall. I would not have Cyrus fight a man, for this man next to me had already defeated him. I would choose an animal, and I could only remember, in flashes, that night on the mountain, when we fought a great monster together.
“He will fight a lion,” was my quiet command. Xerxes echoed it to the gamekeepers, and they loosed a great beast onto the field. The crowd roared its pleasure to me.
Cyrus wasted no time considering the irony; his sword was out of its sheath in a blinding moment, and he held the lion at bay as it circled him, snarling. I could not watch and buried my face in Xerxes’ robe. It was awful, for everything I was doing only fed Xerxes’ misguided notion that I was his, body and soul.
Xerxes tried to bolster my courage. “Look up, my pet! Would you miss the fight?”
I watched, for Xerxes’ benefit, but could only avert my eyes when the lion would lunge and swing his massive paws. Cyrus was smooth and measured, and stayed out of the lion’s reach, sometimes using his shield to force a glare into the lion’s eyes as it lunged. Heavy blows of the claws were met with Cyrus’s shield, and all of Cyrus’s attempts to undercut the lion’s belly were futile. I remembered how we had defeated the mountain lion together. Cyrus had not escaped without my help that night, and I knew no way to save him now, though my mind flew in all directions to find one.
The lion seemed to slow, and Cyrus lowered his shield a moment to wipe sweat from his brow, stopping it from running into his eyes. The shield looked to weigh as much as I, and I wondered if Cyrus was slowing, too, in the sun. At that instant the lion opened its mouth, panting, but a subtle tensing of its muscles alarmed me. It lunged, and lunged low, ripping open the flesh of Cyrus’s calf. Cyrus screamed and reached for the bleeding wound, and the lion struck again. But Cyrus became as an animal himself and drew a knife from a belt around his other calf. Ducking his head as he bent forward to receive the lion’s blow, Cyrus ran his blade into the beast as it snarled in pain, its blood spilling onto the ground with Cyrus’s. He had stabbed it in the heart, piercing it on the diagonal from chest to arm. Blood was spurting in high arcs above both heads. The knife remained in the beast, and Cyrus drew his sword now, leaving the shield on the ground. The lion staggered, and Cyrus drove the giant sword straight down, severing the spine. The lion fell at an odd angle, like a child’s doll. Cyrus had to brace a foot against the monster to jerk his sword free, and the beast remained still.
The crowd was silent for a moment, staring at the fallen beast, and then lifted Cyrus’s name in a fierce chant. All the other warriors lifted their weapons high in the air, saluting their brother as other beasts screamed from their cages below, smelling blood. Cyrus had granted us a marvelous opening, and several warriors, emboldened by his success, would now die imitating him.
Xerxes turned to me, alive with excitement. “What a show, my dear! How will we reward this warrior for the excellent entertainment?”
I could only shake my head, dumb and mute. The king grew immediately concerned, for my appearance must have been as ill as I felt. “What is it, good queen?” he whispered urgently to me. “You look unwell.”
I was so weakened by shock, by the ghost of my past, that my newest secret spilled out too easily. “I am with child, my lord,” I replied softly, the sweat breaking out on my brow and lips unbidden.
Xerxes threw back his head and laughed, drawing me close to his side. Then he stood and addressed his kingdom. “This has been a day that will live on in the hearts of Persians forever! A new champion, and a new heir!” He raised a goblet to toast the stadium, and the people roared.
Xerxes toasted again, this time tipping his cup toward Cyrus. “Well done, mighty Cyrus! Come forward and greet your king!” As Cyrus moved toward us, a boy ran forward to wipe his sword clean of blood.
Cyrus bowed, presenting his sword once to the king, and then to the crowd, before sheathing it. Xerxes motioned to me, as if presenting me to Cyrus, and Cyrus took my hand in his, kissing it once, tenderly. It was a stolen kiss, because I wanted him here alone, without the crowd and this king, and he let me taste this dream but not enter it. Then Cyrus turned and faced Xerxes, who was by now quite red from excitement and too much wine.
“For your bravery here tonight, Cyrus, you will be rewarded!” The crowd cheered Xerxes’ words. “Honorable Cyrus, you will take command of the palace guard, and protect the crown from every threat! You will be the most revered warrior in the kingdom! Honor to Cyrus!”
“Honor to Cyrus! And long life to our king!” shrieked the crowd.
Their chants ringing in my ears, I was led back to the king’s chambers, where I attended him with a dull and aching heart.
36
Third Day of Nisan
Ninth Year of the Reign of Xerxes
Year 3400 after Creation
It is now the third day of the new year, and only days ago I saw Cyrus. I feel so weak right now, and my stomach rolls at the sight of food. I do not know if I am heartsick, or if the pregnancy affects me so strongly. My head swims if I think too long on that day. I try to lie still and imagine that I am lying in a field of flowers, their soft petals my blankets. There is no breeze to ruffle me, only a warm sun and the sound of a river. I try so hard to push all away.
But a knock on my door this morning brought me awake. “Enter,” I commanded, and was met with the sight of many men. After the harem year, I should be comfortable with men seeing me not properly dressed, but I quickly draped a robe around my shoulders as I sat up in bed. My breakfast, untasted, was on a low table near me. I had not heard the servant bring it.
The littlest one, a man with a face like a walnut, brown from the sun and shriveled, bowed in an elaborate fashion. “Greetings to the queen on behalf of the gods,” he said, his voice very sharp and crisp. It did not set well on my stomach. He clapped and the men stumbled forward and dispersed from behind him, fanning out until I saw all their ranks. It looked as if Xerxes has assembled a man from every region. Each was dressed differently, each man wearing his hair differently, or bundled under a wrap. One carried a dead rabbit by its hind legs. Another held an enormous bouquet of lavender blossoms. (Lovely as they were, their smell mixed with the sweat of these men made my head spin.) Several held bags of fur, with untold horrors inside.
“We have been sent on Xerxes’ good wishes to see how the queen would be attended to in her pregnancy,” the little man said. “Whatever god you serve, we stand ready to perform a blessing.”
I stared at him, unable to take in the sight and think quickly of a lie.
The old man saw my hesitation and raised his hands in front of his face eagerly, as if he was patting the air. “Of course, of course,” he said. “How wise you are, how wise and how beautiful!” he added, bowing low again. I was afraid I would throw up, but there was no bowl near me. I took a deep breath, which I held in.
“You do not wish to claim allegiance to one god in a land of so many,” he said. “Ahura Mazda be praised! The Great Lord of the underworld sees your kindness toward all true believers who worship him in all his forms. Grace to you, majesty!”
Once again, my stomach rolled over and I madly waved him toward the door, another hand over my mouth.
“Very well! Let us exit, my friends!” he exclaimed, herding them all through the door at once.
I wonder, will I conduct all matters of state with such grace?
37
Twenty
-fourth Day of the Month of Sivan
Ninth Year of the Reign of Xerxes
Year 3400 after Creation
So much has been written in these pages; I suppose my doom is assured if it is discovered. So there can be no further harm in revealing more. What alarms me most truly is the dark side of the gift in my womb that G-d has granted Xerxes, for now there are more people who might want to kill me, and more reason to do so. As I draw closer to Xerxes, I may also draw closer to the blades drawn and waiting for a taste of my neck. But let me tell you now of why my fear blossoms:
This morning, as I rose from my bed and was attended to in my bath, I had the strangest sensation of being watched. I had grown so accustomed to bathing on the roof in the harem, that I had requested of Xerxes to construct a similar bath on the roof of the queen’s palace as well. It has taken his laborers almost a year to dig the channels and create a garden all around for me, but I do love it. It is, quite truly, an oasis of escape for me in these walls. I have even taken to the custom of bathing in the morning, when the sun is coolest, and the water most refreshing, as opposed to the other women who still observe the local custom of bathing at night. Perhaps that is why I had such a strange sensation today; this feeling of being exposed, but then, this has been my practice for so long, why would it seem wrong today? No, I am sure I was being watched, although I do not know by whom, or why.
Now even more than before, I am careful to stay secluded, with only my trusted advisers from the harem near me. My food is tasted twice over, my wine from a private reserve that Hagai and another eunuch from the court keep watch over. When I sleep there are always two or more awake at my side.
I asked G-d for this child to ease my aching heart; how is it now that my heart is burdened as never before? What cruel justice is this? I know I cannot keep myself safe, nor this child inside of me. I took no care for myself in the past. But my life is all that will protect the child, even as the child puts my life at risk.
And yet I love this child already as I have never loved. I suspect this will have my secret out, but I am not afraid somehow. I will tell this child of our G-d, I will bring my little one to the rabbi for a blessing. I may soon at last be able to bring Mordecai to me, and how happy a reunion we will have! In all of my daydreaming, I find that one hand always goes to stroke my belly. It has begun to swell and I am in my fourth month, according to the physician. (I have asked to be attended to by the palace physician. He is a man of no particular persuasion in worship; he aspires only to worship science. Having attended the royals, he has seen much and will keep me in good health. I am forlorn not to have a Jewish sister attend me, but to ask for one of the midwives from the village is to risk revealing myself.)
I have asked Hagai to keep careful watch down below from my chamber window, and Ashtari to cover my body more completely with linens as I emerge from the waters.[1]
[1] See corresponding commentary in appendix.
38
Seventh Day of the Month of Tammuz
Ninth Year of the Reign of Xerxes
Year 3400 after Creation
Blood was spilled today, but it was not my own, although it was of my body, for Xerxes’ heir has died in my womb. I was eating dinner, the nausea finally having departed this week, when the hair on the back of my neck stood up. It was as if I felt a great storm coming. I pushed my plate away and paced in my chambers. At first, when I saw the blood, I did not comprehend, but the mother wisdom of my spirit, my bones, knew before my brain and perhaps even my heart. All was lost.
The pain was unbearable, and I clenched a strip of cloth between my teeth as waves of pain came over me, wrenching away this life little by little. I wept so bitterly, my breath coming in gasps between each jolt of agony. I did not get to say good-bye. I feel I’ve lost the best friend, the deepest love, ever granted me, before I ever got to know the face, or hear the beloved’s voice. It is a grief I cannot explain.
There is a sadness more final than I have ever known; the world seems dulled over with a wash of gray. I once feared the enemy beyond my chambers. I did not know my own womb could betray me. She is an evil, double-minded sister. My heart is so raw and bruised I cannot bear even the musicians to come near my window. All I long to do is lie silently, as the life ebbs away from within and I am left alone.
I was a fool to feel so happy with this life inside. I was a fool to believe G-d would ever grant me relief in this palace that has set its face against Him with its pagan worship and unrestrained lusts. If I have not brought this upon myself, then they have brought it upon us all.
Only Ashtari can soothe me, and she remembers the words of the shepherd king David that I have quoted to her, “Do not be sad, little heart, for you will again have reason to praise your G-d.” She brings me fresh cotton to stop the flow of blood and crushes herbs into oil for me to eat with my bread.
Xerxes took the news with only a fleeting grief; he is busy with a kingdom and has many heirs by other women. Perhaps he is glad to have my body back as his alone. He has had many women and taken from them as he desired. It does not seem strange to him that nature should take what she wanted too.
How I long now for a word from Mordecai. I will send him a message tonight and wait for a reply. A word of comfort from home would do me much good.
39
Second Day, Month of Shevat
Ninth Year of the Reign of Xerxes
Year 3400 after Creation
The days that have passed have eased my pain, and I am able to draw strength from the many who love me here. I avert my eyes, and heart, when I pass those who might celebrate such a wretched thing. The other wives must pity me, and perhaps be jealous of me, but they will not again fear me. A queen without children is only a wife who wears the crown. True power belongs to the one who raises the king’s heir.
The crown was coveted by the harem girls because of the great wealth of the king; the wise wives have known all along that wealth is less pleasurable over a lifetime than power. This, then, is my small comfort, the irony I see: If palace intrigue claims my life, it will not be at the hands of a mother positioning her son ahead of mine. This little death might have perhaps saved me from my own.
Another strange thing; there was a single red rose on my bed tonight when I retired to my chambers. I do not think that it is from Xerxes. King Xerxes has been away from me several nights now. He is still celebrating our marriage with a feast, Esther’s Feast, he calls it. He has handed out generous gifts to everyone in the kingdom. (I wonder what Mordecai received! And to think they have no idea he is my adopted father! I must suppose he received a trinket like everyone else.) Here I sit, in my royal palace, unable to attend the festivities. It is not good for me to have so much time to think. My royal chamber seems more like a prison cell with every hour. My mind escapes to fantasy over and over and grows more reluctant to return. The irony of Cyrus guarding me in this palace! I do not see him, but I know he is nearby, keeping me safe for the king, knowing all the while I am stolen property, that I once belonged to him.
I could read nothing in his face at the fight in the stadium. I do not know him anymore; that is a truth I must face. Does he relish being near, knowing he can never again touch? Or perhaps he has forgotten me altogether and married one of the girls that his father prescribed? There is another sickening possibility, but I cannot believe it of Cyrus: There are those who adore the crown more than the head that wears it. Perhaps Cyrus has followed in his father’s footsteps, and longs to be near me only to use me for gain. I have been absent from him, from home, for almost three years, and I can no longer be sure he has not changed. My emotions swing wildly from wanting to see him, to dreading what I will find. Does he hate me? Does he even know it was his own father who sent me here, against my will? I am a prisoner, surely he knows that, when he himself is now the jailer! What girl would choose to live thi
s life, a delicately groomed little pet, allowed out of its cage only at the whim of the master?
I do expect Xerxes to call me to his chambers when he is high from wine, or tired of the girls from the harem. But it would be unthinkable for me to attend the feast in the presence of common men. I know Xerxes will not repeat his humiliation with Vashti. I can only imagine how much the girls of the harem are enjoying him in my absence. I am not alone, however, in my plight—every woman in the kingdom understands how I feel, for when a woman hosts a feast for her husband, she must prepare the food and then retreat to an upstairs room, never to be seen during the party. Does a jewel become more rare if it never sees the light of day? I suppose it must in the men’s eyes. I can only pace restlessly in my palace, and pray and plead with G-d to have mercy on the women of Athens. News has reached me that they now ask for democracy themselves. The people here watch Greece closely.
The prostitutes of Athens are foreign women who do not proscribe to such treatment as our own cloistering and seclusion; they are unafraid to bare their faces to the sun and greet a man openly. And so the men, who bought these women to forget their troubles, are getting more trouble than they ever could have wished for. How ironic that the prostitutes brought about the chance of freedom for the wives! I never cease to be amazed at how G-d will use everything, even evil, to work for good. The Athenian women had no choice but to let their husbands indulge in unclean living; now their freedom is being slowly bought with money meant for harlots.
But of course, I will not see that freedom in these lands in my lifetime. I know that. It is enough, I believe, to know that a candle has been lit in the shadows. I will trust that G-d will still be at work long after I am gone, and that these later women will know how best to use their freedom.
40
Fourth Day of the Month of Adar
Chosen Page 12