by Wolf, Joan
Sisames coughed gently and Smerdis reluctantly returned his attention to the judge. Sisames said, “You did not think that the king’s life was too valuable for you to take such a risk? You did not think that, even if there was only a very small chance that these men might be telling the truth, you should report their accusation and let the king investigate?”
Smerdis spread his thick hands. “My lord Sisames, I can assure you that I bear no animosity toward the king! I simply did not believe they were telling the truth!”
The lines in Sisames’ old face deepened. “Then, if you thought these guards were lying, why did you not order their arrest?”
For the first time, Smerdis’ voice dropped in volume. “My lord, I did not want to see Teresh’s name blackened by this lie.”
Sisames let a little silence fall. When he spoke again his voice sounded merely curious. “I see. You were willing to risk the king’s life in order to safeguard the reputation of your friend?”
Smerdis cast a quick, hunted look at Ahasuerus, whose politely interested expression had never varied. “I did not think the king’s life was in danger,” he repeated once again.
“The guardsman called Milis will approach me,” Sisames called.
Milis stepped forward once more, his booted footsteps clearly audible in the hushed silence of the room.
“You quite specifically told the Grand Vizier that the assassination was set for Friday night, the night of the Mithra Festival?”
“Yes, my lord.” Milis’ voice was firm.
“You told him this on Thursday morning?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“And by Thursday night, when it became apparent that Smerdis had not gone to the king, what did you think?”
“I thought, my lord, that Smerdis might be involved in the plot with Teresh. I thought that my own life, and that of my friend, were probably in danger along with the king’s.”
“And that was when you went to Mordecai, whom you knew to be a friend of the queen’s?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Total silence reigned in the Service Court.
Sisames rose and turned to Ahasuerus. “Do you have anything to add to this testimony, my Lord King?”
“No,” Ahasuerus said.
Sisames turned back to the accused and made his judgment. “Smerdis, son of Artaphernes, I find you guilty of treason against the person of the Great King and I sentence you to execution by beheading, this sentence to be carried out before noon today.”
Smerdis went pasty white. He licked his lips, opened them as if to speak, then closed them again.
“Take him away,” Sisames said to the guards.
As a half-fainting Smerdis was led away, the king rose and gestured for Sisames to approach him. “I thank you, my Lord Judge, for your wisdom and your resolution.” His soft voice was effortlessly audible to the entire room.
Sisames replied, “He was clearly guilty, my lord. I wonder you didn’t sentence him yourself.”
“I was not as impartial as a judge should be,” Ahasuerus said.
“You are an example of justice to us all, my lord,” Sisames answered.
Ahasuerus’ eyes swept around the Service Court, searching the faces of the men who were assembled there. His gaze stopped when it lit on Haman, who was standing by one of the columns at the edge of the crowd. “Haman, come here.”
Haman was unprepared for the summons, but he managed to walk steadily across the floor, taking care not to let his feet touch the king’s purple carpet. In private he was allowed to kiss Ahasuerus upon the cheek, but public protocol called for the prostration. He performed this now, praying he wouldn’t be sick all over the ceramic tiled floor.
Ahasuerus told him to rise, then came down from the dais, and resting his hands lightly upon the Palestinian’s shoulders, turned him around to face the court. “Behold my new Grand Vizier.”
Haman was certain he could hear a shocked intake of breath run around the room. The timbre of the king’s voice never changed. “I am Ahasuerus, the Great King, son of Darius, the Great King, an Achaemenid, a Persian, the son of a Persian.” He paused. “Thus do I punish my enemies, and thus do I reward my friends.”
As Haman felt the royal hands lift from his shoulders, he turned and prostrated himself once more. Ahasuerus stepped upon the purple carpet to make his exit and every man in the room dropped to the floor and almost ceased to breathe until he was gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Esther and Luara were sitting in the queen’s reception room, looking at a display of rings. Esther did not want or need any new rings, but Ahasuerus had told her that it was her duty, as queen, to patronize the Susa jewelry merchants. Unfortunately, this did not mean that she should go to the shops; it meant that the merchants should bring their wares to her. For a moment a vision of the Jewish marketplace where she used to shop flashed into her mind. How Rachel and she had pitied the poor Persian women who were not able to go out to market. Never had she dreamt that one day she herself would be one of those poor creatures for whom she had felt such easy compassion.
She handed Luara a ring and said, “Try this one on and let’s see how it looks.”
Luara did so with alacrity, admiring the glittering jewel on her finger.
Esther’s mind was not on the rings. Mordecai had asked for an appointment to see her and she knew she could not put her uncle off. She also knew what he was going to say and she did not want to hear it. Mordecai would be agonizing over Haman’s appointment as Grand Vizier and he would want Esther to do something. He simply would not or could not understand that there was nothing she could so. It was not possible for her to question Ahasuerus about this appointment. For one thing, he had married her because she had no political interests, and for another, he would surely wonder why she was taking an interest in Haman’s appointment when she had never shown an interest in any other appointments he had made. She could not do anything that might cause Ahasuerus to take a closer look into her background.
Esther hated being at odds with her beloved uncle. In fact, she had been very glad that he was with her during that long terrifying night when they discovered the plot against Ahasuerus. But Mordecai did not understand her position.
She could assure him that Palestine was quiet. The prophet Obadiah, whom Mordecai had feared would stir the Jews to rebellion, was preaching to deaf ears. Ahasuerus wanted peace; he would not be provoked to send troops unless there was an uprising. But no uprising seemed likely.
These were all things that Mordecai probably already knew, and she suspected he would not be satisfied with such a general response. But it was the best she could do.
She stood up restlessly and said to Luara, “You pick one of these rings, Luara. I probably will never wear it anyway. I’m out of sorts and I’m going to the Rose Court to recover my good temper.”
“Certainly, my lady.” Luara was enjoying looking at the rings far more than Esther had.
Hathach was waiting at the door, and Esther followed him as he went through the hallway crying, “Make way for the queen.”
Esther told Hathach she did not wish to be disturbed and slipped into the Rose Court. It was autumn, her favorite time of year, that brief season between the heat of summer and the cold rains of winter. She inhaled the scent of the late roses, so richly colored and fragrant this time of year, and went to sit on the bench by the fountain. The sun was delightfully warm and she tilted her face toward it like a flower drinking in light.
Muran would tell her she was ruining her skin. If the Mistress ever learned about those wagon trips with Luara and Hathach around the plateau in Ecbatana, she would have been horrified. But Ahasuerus hadn’t cared then if her nose got sunburned, and he wouldn’t care now.
At the thought of her husband, tears filled her eyes. It seemed as if she cried at everything these days. It was because of the baby, Luara said.
She had to tell Ahasuerus about the baby. She wanted to tell him. It was just . . . she felt as if
she were being torn in two, and that telling him about the baby would rend her completely. Telling him would force her to make a final choice: she could be a Jew and tell him who she really was and why she had been sent to him; or she could be a Persian and continue to lie to him for the rest of her life.
Her great fear was that if she told him the truth, she would lose both Ahasuerus and their child. But if she lied . . . how could she live out her life knowing she was a fraud? Fearing that one day her husband might find out?
How did this happen to me? My Father in Heaven, I am only a woman. How can You ask me to choose between my husband and child and my duty to You? It isn’t fair.
The sound of the door opening made her start and a flash of anger shot through her. She had distinctly said she did not wish to be disturbed.
Hathach said, “My lady, the king,” and Ahasuerus walked in. For the briefest of moments, Esther remembered the day when she had first seen him in this very same place, the day he had chosen her.
He said, “Your girl told me you were here,” and came over to join her at the bench.
It usually irritated Esther when Ahasuerus referred to Luara as her girl. She had reminded him several times that Luara had a name, but he never seemed to remember. There was a faint line between his brows, however, so she did not mention his omission but moved a little so he could sit beside her.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“I have had an interview with Hegai. He complains that you are slighting him.”
Esther was astonished. “I? How can I have slighted him, my lord? I hardly ever see him.”
“I know, Esther. That is the problem.” A single rose petal lay on the ground next to the bench. He picked it up and smoothed it between his fingers as he spoke. “You see, Esther, the official role of the Chief Eunuch is to be the messenger between the queen and the rest of the world. You have given that job to Hathach, and Hegai is upset. Understandably upset, I might add.”
Esther was surprised. “I never meant to hurt Hegai’s feelings, my lord.”
He smiled wryly. “It is not just his feelings you have hurt, Esther. You have stripped him of his power.”
She didn’t know what he could be talking about. “What power can there be in running errands for me?”
“A queen can have a great deal of power, Esther.” He turned to look into her eyes. “Particularly a queen who has her husband’s ear. As you have mine.”
At these particular words, she felt guilty color flush into her cheeks. His ear. That was the exact word that Uncle Mordecai always used. She lowered her eyes and asked, “Power to do what?”
“To influence me on policy,” he said. “To win a favor for someone.”
She did not reply, could not reply. She felt miserably, horribly guilty.
He said, “I know that you have no desire to do that. However, Hegai still feels that his job has been usurped by Hathach.”
She still couldn’t look at him. “I like Hathach. Hegai makes me nervous.”
He frowned. “Has he done anything to upset you?”
She shook her head.
He waited.
“I suppose that I have never really forgiven him for that examination,” she said at last.
“What examination?”
The question made her so indignant that she was able to look him in the eye again. “The examination they gave me when I first came to the harem. Do you know what they do to the girls who are brought to your harem, my lord?”
Of course he knew, she thought. However, he was prudent enough to remain silent and she went on, “I have never been so humiliated in my life. It was awful.”
He sighed. “I am sorry you were humiliated, Esther, but Hegai feels he has been humiliated also. And I think he has cause.”
She put up her chin. “I will not abandon Hathach.”
“I am not asking you to abandon Hathach. I am asking you to make Hegai your chief officer. Hathach can still run your errands.”
She was bewildered. “But if Hathach is to run my errands, what will be left for Hegai to do?”
“He can act as a messenger between you and the other members of the court.”
“I don’t communicate with other members of the court, my lord. All they ever wanted was to ask me to ask you for favors, so I stopped seeing them. I told you that.”
He frowned. “There must be something he can do for you, Esther!”
She looked at him for a moment in silence. “What did Hegai do for your mother?”
A white line appeared around Ahasuerus’ mouth. “He did nothing for my mother. Xerxes’ mother, Atossa, was the real queen, not my mother. Atossa was the one whom Darius listened to. Hegai acted as a messenger between her and the rest of the court. But he was also the chief messenger between her and my father.”
Esther had, of course, heard gossip about Darius’ first two wives. Artabama, Ahasuerus’ mother, had been beautiful. In fact, people always said he resembled her. But Atossa, the second wife, had been a direct descendant of Cyrus and, once he married her, Darius had neglected Artabama and let Atossa bully her mercilessly. Muran had once told Esther that one of the reasons Darius and Ahasuerus fell out was that Ahasuerus always tried to stand up for his mother.
She thought now about what he had said. “Well, I don’t see members of the court, so I don’t need Hegai for that. And I see you all the time, my lord, so why would I need Hegai to be my messenger between us?”
There was a long silence. Finally Ahasuerus turned on the bench and looked down into her face. “That is true,” he said, a strange note in his voice.
Several birds had perched on top of the high wall of the garden and were calling loudly to one another. The soft rush of water came from the fountain behind them. Esther said softly, “Is something wrong, Ahasuerus?”
He shook his head, as if he had just woken up. “No. Nothing is wrong. It’s just . . . I don’t think I had realized before quite how closely you have grown into my life.”
He was quiet again and Esther waited. Then he said, “Unfortunately, the Hegai situation is only part of the dilemma I am facing. There is the question of the whole harem to consider.” There was a flat note in his voice, a tone she had never heard from him before. He was looking down at the rose petal in his hands, which he was now tearing into small pieces.
“Is the harem a problem?” she asked tentatively.
“It can be a huge problem. Discontent in the harem can easily spill over into state politics. I am not the most popular of kings, as Teresh’s recent plot demonstrated all too clearly.”
His voice as he spoke that last sentence was too careful, and Esther’s heart ached for him. She put a comforting hand over his restless fingers.
“You are not popular with the clique that supports a Greek war, but everyone else loves you.”
His smile was a little crooked. “You exaggerate, Esther.”
“No, Ahasuerus, I don’t.”
His fingers were warm under hers and they sat there together in the sun, thinking.
She said, “If you think the harem might be trouble, why not send all those girls home?”
He gave her a look that mixed amusement and exasperation. “I don’t think it would be quite as easy as that.”
Esther pictured the harem in her mind; the huge number of rooms and baths and gardens. “However did you manage to accumulate so many concubines?” she asked with true amazement.
He sighed. “Gifts. When I was in Babylon, every tribal chief within reach of the Royal Road sent me a beautiful girl as a gift. I couldn’t say I didn’t want them, so into the harem they went. And when I became Great King, the satraps scoured the slave markets to send me girls.”
The flat note was back in his voice.
“Well,” Esther said after a while, “I will take Hegai into my service and try to find something for him to do. And I will talk to Muran about the harem girls—perhaps she will have some ideas about how we can at least reduce their num
ber.”
His voice was slightly more buoyant as he said, “You know, Esther, you might have Hegai put it about that you will be extremely displeased with anyone who sends me new concubines.”
“I don’t know how much weight my wishes will carry, my lord, but I will be delighted to try.”
“You would be surprised to learn how much weight your word will carry,” he said, and slipped his arm around her shoulders to draw her close.
She rested against him, feeling the pleasant warmth of the sun on her skin. “It would be so nice if you weren’t the king, if we were just two ordinary married people. Perhaps we would have a horse farm near Ecbatana. You would like that.”
She felt his mouth touch her hair. “You must be the only woman in the empire who does not want to be married to the Great King.”
“I don’t want to be married to the Great King. I want to be married to you.”
She closed her eyes and listened to the beat of his heart under her cheek. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, she had an idea that might solve one of her problems.
She would recommend to Mordecai that he have the Jewish Community of Susa write a letter to the king assuring him that the Jews only desired peace in Palestine. Mordecai could deliver such a letter in person and make even further reassurances. She need not be involved in the matter at all.
Ahasuerus put his mouth against her ear and whispered, “Would you really marry me if I were only a horse farmer in Ecbatana?”
“Yes,” Esther whispered back. “I would.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Haman was furious when once more Ahasuerus canceled their appointment to discuss the Treasury report. He had told Haman that he needed to speak to the queen on some issue pertaining to Hegai. Haman was scowling as he returned the Treasury scrolls to his office and he decided to take a walk through the public courtyards of the palace. The homage of the minor palace officials would put him back in temper, he thought.