by Tommy Tenney
So what do you do?
Well, it’s simple, actually. If the King suffers from an excess of invention and artifice, then go the other direction. Be as simple, as straightforward, as you possibly can. Rely on what G-d gave you, not the treasury or the royal wardrobe. That is the strategy that—well, I know you know the outcome of this story, but I will hold its details in reserve nevertheless.
As time grew short, Hegai even began to instruct me in the sexual practices the King preferred. Since I was the most ignorant of possible virgins, the mere fact of intercourse took days for me to absorb. I seemed to live in a state of perpetual embarrassment. But how much more there was! Every new revelation, every new technique revealed took days of shock in order to accept.
After one particular session with Hegai, I found myself deeply despondent. I had no idea my body was supposed to be used in this manner—the thoroughness of my preparation was exposing me to facts from which the other girls had been spared, and no doubt for good reason.
While Jesse and I strolled beside the East Wall that afternoon, I asked him: was I right to submit to this kind of exploitation from a pagan? Or was I supposed to refuse him and accept my death? Did the Jewish code by which I vowed to live mention a penalty for an act some might label fornication—even though it was coerced?
Jesse said nothing for a long while. But even as we made our way beneath the trees and beside more gardens, I could tell his mind was furiously at work. At last he turned to me.
“Hadassah,” he said, using the Jewish name he employed only when we were alone, “the Torah tells us to do, and not do, many things. One of the things it tells us to do is be fruitful and multiply. Well, what the King’s men did left me incapable of obeying that commandment. Does that make me a nonperson? A non-Jew?”
“Of course not.”
“Well, thank you. But why not? After all, I am violating a commandment.”
“Because you have no choice in the matter. You did not surrender your manhood willingly. It was taken from you by force, under pain of death.”
“Exactly. And so it is with your virginity.”
A weight seemed to lift itself from my shoulders and waft away in the breeze. I reached over and gave him a quick squeeze about the neck. “You’re right, of course. Oh, Jesse, I am so glad you’re here.”
He looked down with a scowl. “Yes, but after you go in to the King . . . Suppose you’re chosen.”
“Let us hope I am chosen. It is the only way any of this will have meaning. Jesse, somehow I believe all of this is part of my destiny—even though I don’t understand it all yet.”
“Yes, but you’ll be taken away forever,” Jesse interrupted. “These walks of ours will end. I won’t see you anymore.”
“Are you out of your mind?” I asked. “Being Queen only gives me more power to do as I wish, to do good. The Queen of Persia can visit an old friend anytime she wishes. I could name you to my personal detail. I could even have you released to your family.”
He smiled wistfully at the last suggestion. “Yes, but as what? A man who cannot marry, who cannot start a family? No, I fear I am condemned to being a royal eunuch for the rest of my life. And still, I have hope. I have this stubborn sense that my life has meaning, that I am doing an important work in helping you remain safe and your identity protected.”
“You know something, Jesse,” I said as tenderly as I could, “I asked Hegai the meaning of your Persian name—I did it casually enough,” I said at his look of consternation. “He told me ‘Hathach’ means ‘The Good One,’ and this you truly are.” I clasped his hand, and he smiled.
“Well, anyway—as Queen, I can do many things to make your life, and ours, far easier.”
He turned to face me and flashed a grin. “You just win, all right?”
I knew then that being chosen Queen was the only way my life—or his—would ever be made right. Beyond that, it was in YHWH’s hands.
28
I put the same question to Mordecai on the following morning. Was I defiling myself by allowing that first night to go forward?
Mordecai’s response was immediate and profound. He obviously had been thinking—and praying—much about this. He shook his head and replied, “No, Hadassah. A thousand times no. G-d gave us the law to guide our choices, not guarantee our outcomes. You never chose this fate for yourself. You will not approach the King’s bed voluntarily but as someone whose life might be required of her if she refuses. And even then, I do not want you to act reluctantly or sullenly for him. Act as though he will certainly be your husband, my dear. Remember how many arranged marriages happen these days. Well, perhaps your heavenly Father has also ‘arranged’ this one—who knows? Think of that other bride who did not know her husband—Rebekah. Do you remember her story?”
“Yes, Mordecai,” I nodded.
“Well, Rebekah did not know Isaac, and yet she trusted in the fact that God had ordained their union. And it turned out to be one of the most important and successful marriages of all time. Besides, you might even find something about the King appealing.”
“But what about the law? What about the proscriptions against fornication?”
“My dear, fornication is the willful flaunting of G-d’s commands concerning the confining of sexual intimacy to marriage. I do not think that is what you will be doing. Like I said, you focus on making godly choices within the course available to you, and He will guide you. I do not know why G-d allowed you to be taken in such a manner. I do not know His mind or His intricate reasons. But I know He has a purpose for you. I am convinced He has placed you here deliberately. And the only way you can aid that purpose is to do your best in everything you attempt. That includes competing to be Queen with all the skill and planning you can bring to this endeavor. As Queen you will be his wife, a most honorable and worthy position under Jewish law.”
I almost laughed in amazement. “I never thought you and I would ever have such a conversation.”
“I know, dear Hadassah. It is so far from what I hoped for you, or anticipated.” Grief colored his voice and brought tears to my eyes.
I sighed with the heaviness of a woman carrying burdens beyond belief. “I pictured myself marrying a good Jewish young man—Jesse, since he was practically the only one I knew—then settling down to have children and raise a family.”
“I hoped as much for you, dear. But, you know, I learned long ago, after the deaths of our families, that sometimes we have to live with far less than our highest wish. Yet even then, G-d walks through the disappointment with us. We are not second-class persons to Him just because our lives have taken us to some low places—some of them of our own making, some of them not. I believe even then He can do mighty things through us. He can reveal a purpose for our suffering. Your story is not over, Hadassah. In fact, I’m convinced it has hardly even begun.”
I threw myself into Mordecai’s arms and held him as tightly as I could. How grateful I was for him at that moment! I think G-d knew I would never have survived without my beloved poppa’s daily encouragement.
But the sadness . . . I thought back, still grasping him tightly, to the days when I was just a girl languishing inside his warm, comfortable home. Days when my biggest concern was the weather permitting me to spend time in the garden or having to eat Rachel’s horrible lentil soup for lunch. Those days now lurked around the edges of my mind like some imagined folk tale, the invented story of some other girl in some other time.
But I could not afford to spend my time pining for that past time in my life. The present demanded all I could give. And more.
And that is why I vowed to master even the subject of the intimacy of the marriage bed to the best of my ability. I resolved that I simply had to win this competition and become Queen. Winning would be my vindication and would restore my honor. Beyond that, I did not know. I would emerge as possibly the most influential woman in the world—nearly unthinkable—or a discarded woman living in the high-class equivalent of a brothel.
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Now, please understand—my determination to win did not mean my efforts would resort to mean-spirited and underhanded tactics like some of the other girls. But I certainly planned to avail myself of every advantage offered me. That included winning a place of affection in the other girls’ hearts, rather than alienating or subduing them. I routinely made my seven handmaidens—whom I never could have kept busy anyway—available to serve the other candidates, provided they treated them with respect. I hosted in my suite overnight some of the candidates who had not won the greatest popularity and suffered under the shadow of obscurity within the harem. I made my cosmetics and beauty aids available to all. I passed on advice to those who asked me for it.
And in so doing—you must understand this—I did not dilute or weaken my position but rather underscored my standing as the most deserving candidate in the minds of most of the girls in the harem. That perception, I was to discover, would be invaluable to me.
I hope, of course, that as a follower of YHWH you recognize how this plan was scriptural, as well. The Sacred Texts teach us to love God supremely, to honor our parents, to not lie or cheat or steal. When we follow these commandments, I believe He ordains our path so that what might seem like weakness turns to our advantage. Obeying His laws, I was beginning to learn, put me within a heartbeat of being transformed from a peasant into a princess—from a commoner into a queen.
Although not dressed for stealth, and in spite of his girth, the man moved swiftly and silently through the darkened orchards and gardens that lined the outer walls of the Royal Palace. The fringe of vegetation had given him a perfect cover all the way from the King’s Gate to the proximity of the candidates’ house. Now, within sight of the moon-shrouded dormitories, he began to slow his progress and watch.
He did not have to wait long. The figure of a girl tiptoed past the pool and moved carefully away from the marble’s edge into the gloom of the nearby orchard. She walked up to him with her arms folded before her—whether for warmth or as a buffer against her unease was impossible for the hidden watcher to tell.
They spoke in the softest of whispers.
“What can I do for you, sir?” Her voice held just the faintest tremor, though the words were cold enough.
“First of all, you need to realize that I know who your father, Carshena, is. I know his aspirations—though he is a prince, he wants more.”
“What aspirations? He wants me to be the Queen—that’s only natural for someone of royal lineage.”
“Do not patronize me, you little fool. Everyone in the kingdom knows what the Princes of the Face scheme every hour of the day. That’s why your father forged your family papers and has kept your family connections a secret.”
“Are—are you going to tell Hegai about me?” This time the tremor was unmistakable.
“No. That is, not if you do exactly as I say. We can create our own special arrangement, one that is mutually beneficial. The fact is, I will soon be king.”
“You are teasing me, sir,” she replied in a shocked voice. “Royal subjects should not speak this way, especially within Palace walls.”
“Listen, girl, I have royal guards on my side and an army of men set to enter Susa. I will be king. So working with me will not exactly be the worst thing that could happen to you.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Just two things. First, I want you to keep your eyes and ears open. I want to know if any of the candidates are Jewish.”
“What is that?”
“You know. Hebrew. One of the Israelites.”
“Oh, yes.”
“If you find one, I want you to tell me. The Jews are a filthy and rebellious people, an internal threat to Persia and to my plans for the Empire. And then I want you to use this”—and he held up a small flask that reflected the light shining off the pool water—“to assure their failure and that of any other rival you consider especially formidable. It is not life threatening; it will simply make them very sick for a day or two. Enough to wipe out a competitor’s night with the King. Can you do that?”
The girl nodded quickly. “Anything that keeps another candidate from winning, I am more than ready for. I want to be Queen more than I want to breathe.”
“Good. And who knows: maybe if you don’t become Xerxes’ queen, you can be mine. You are quite delectable. You’ll last a lot longer on the throne that way, anyhow. As I said, I’ll be King of Persia before the year is out. In any case, your family will fare much better if I have your cooperation.” As her eyes widened in fear, he finished with, “Now go, my lovely. Be on your way and be on the lookout for the signal of our next meeting.”
She nodded in semi-shock and walked away. The man stood still for a long moment, either relishing the outcome of the conversation or watching for signs of detection or both. Finally he sighed and hurried off.
The man had not looked up, however. Even had he done so, he might have missed the intent eyes and hidden form of a eunuch who was resting in the crook of a tree, sheltered from sight by the massive trunk of a gnarled ornamental pine. The young man had seen the clandestine encounter and, concerned for the candidates’ security, had sat watching mere yards from where the two plotters had stood.
Eyes staring wide in shock and amazement, the eunuch slid down the trunk and soundlessly ran back toward his own quarters.
The very next day I met Jesse for another of our afternoon talks. He seemed morose, even despairing. While I came up expecting my usual hug, he sat cross-legged, staring at the ground. I was not even sure he had noticed my arrival. I immediately sat next to him and leaned close.
“What is the matter, O Longface?” I began, trying to humor him.
Then he looked up and into my eyes and I saw that jest was out of the question today.
“You have to win,” he said in a lifeless voice.
“Well, yes. We’ve already established that, haven’t we? Even my father, Mordecai, has told me that.”
“No. You have to win. It is a matter of life and death.”
“Why are you being so melodramatic?” I leaned back to better view his expression. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“Two reasons. First of all, over in the concubines’ quarters, another one of them killed herself yesterday.” Jesse stopped and looked away from me. “She hung herself from the ceiling by a knot in the very same dress she wore on her last night with the King.” His voice had dropped almost to a whisper.
I remember the feeling of horror and pity that nearly overwhelmed me.
“The concubines’ house is a sad place, Hadassah,” Jesse finally continued when I could not bring myself to respond. “Far different from the candidates’ harem. I mean, to those on the outside it seems luxurious and secure. But these women sit around all day watching their lives go by, waiting in vain for the King to summon them. Did you know he has to invite them by name back to the Palace, or they will never go there again? That means if he does not remember you from your very first night with him, you are doomed. And Xerxes has his favorites. Two-thirds of the women are never called on unless he gets restless and bored. They sit around gossiping and complaining and tormenting their servants in order to pass the time. It’s a place of bitterness and rejection. And worse. Another concubine was executed last week for slander against the King. She was passing on bedroom secrets, actually. But word of it slipped to the wrong people. I’m telling you—under the pampered-looking surface, life is not worth dung in these places. I would die for you rather than see you end up there.”
“Oh, Jesse,” I mourned, “don’t talk that way.” Remembering there were two reasons, I reached to touch his arm. “Is the other as bad as this one?”
“No. It’s worse. You have to win because there is a plot underway in the Palace, and one of your competitors is part of it. If she and the people behind her have their way, any strong candidate will be poisoned, and every Jewish candidate could be killed. And after that, King Xerxes will be assassinated.”
This time I shuddered. “Are you just trying to frighten me, Jesse?”
He shook his head with an expression that made the truth of it very clear. “I wish I were, Hadassah. But I have a friend who overheard it with his very own ears. A large, powerfully dressed man came and gave this girl a flask of poison to make every leading candidate sick before her first night. He was plotting for her to become Queen and join some imminent treasonous scheme. He told her to report back to him with the name of any candidate who is Jewish. And he told her he’d become King very, very soon. The implication was he would do away with all Jews as soon as he assumed power.”
“This is terrible,” I whispered. “What can we do? Maybe I can tell Hegai. He respects me. Maybe we can find out who she is and have her expelled, or—”
“You cannot expel her. You cannot because her name is Misgath and her true father is one of the Princes of the Face.”
I sat very still and thought for a long time. I knew Misgath, and as I pictured her, her involvement surprised me but little. Misgath seemed to be a dour, spiteful girl with a perpetual scowl and a superior attitude. She mostly kept to herself, which no doubt was a relief to the rest of the young women.
“What about the man? Can we tell—”
“The other eunuch did not recognize him. The only thing about him that he could see in the darkness was some kind of strange insignia tattooed on his arm. Some kind of X—he wasn’t sure if it was a royal sign for Xerxes, except that the arms were twisted and broken off at the ends.”
I gasped and felt my body go cold. “A twisted cross?” I asked, hardly able to draw enough air into my lungs to form the words.