by Wolf, Joan
She stared at him in mute terror.
He misunderstood the reason for her silence. “I am sorry, Esther, but I could not name our child. The one sure way to tear an empire apart is to put a child on the throne. Surely you can see that?” He leaned toward her, his hand tightening on hers. “Esther? You are always so clear-headed. Can’t you understand that?”
Her voice came out as a hoarse whisper. “You told me there was no reason for me to worry. You promised me that you would come back from this campaign safely. You promised!”
His face relaxed. “Of course I will come back safely. I merely felt that it was my duty to the empire to name an heir.”
Her heart was pounding in her chest.
“I should not have told you this.” He was clearly annoyed with himself for distressing her. “Believe me, Esther, I have every intention of living long enough for our son to grow old enough to succeed me. I only told you because I didn’t want you to hear about Xerxes from someone else and misunderstand my reasons for not naming our child.”
She hardly heard him. She said out loud the words that were in her mind, “You think you are going to die.”
He said slowly and clearly, “I do not think I am going to die. You are to put that thought out of your head.”
All her good intentions of not burdening him with her fears had died the minute he had mentioned naming his heir. She pressed her free hand to her mouth. “Ahasuerus. I am so afraid. My father died in battle. Why shouldn’t it happen to you as well?”
He swung his legs onto the bed to sit beside her against the pillows and cradle her in his arms. “Listen to me, my love. There is not even going to be a battle. I will come back safely— you have my solemn promise on that.”
Her eyes clung to his. He was so calm, so certain. Comfort began to creep into her heart.
“No battle?” she whispered.
“No battle. We will all come home safe and sound. All of us. I promise.”
She let out her breath and let herself begin to relax against him. He bent his head and murmured in her ear, “Do you think you might have enough energy left to give me a proper good-bye?”
She sniffled and managed a trembling smile. Her lips moved. “Yes.”
Afterward, Esther pressed her forehead against his shoulder. “I love you so much. You could search the earth over and you’d never find anyone who could love you more than I do.”
“I did search the earth over,” he reminded her.
“That is so.” She gave a husky chuckle.
His hand was gently stroking her long hair. “You are the very heart of my life. Always before, I was alone. Now there is you.”
She lifted her head so she could see his face. “There are many people who love you, Ahasuerus.”
His face was grave as he returned her look. “There are many people who love the image they have made of me.”
Tears stung her eyes at this picture of his loneliness. He pressed her face against his shoulder once more and his cheek came down to rest on her head. “With you,” he said, “I have come home.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The first part of Ahasuerus’ expedition went with exemplary smoothness. Since it was not a time of year when armies usually moved, the Mardian bandits holding the lower passes were completely surprised by the king’s appearance. The surprise, coupled with the sheer numbers of men who marched in the king’s train, intimidated the bandits into allowing the king’s forces to pass without paying tribute. So Ahasuerus and his attending army advanced without incident until they reached the impregnable Mardian stronghold at the Persian Gates.
The bandits at the lower passes had obviously sent word ahead to their fellow tribesmen that the king was coming, for the cliffs that towered above the treacherous pass were crowded with men, a sight clearly meant to daunt the king. The winter snow on the road was still as high as the horses’ hocks, the air was frigid, and the way ahead looked impassable without paying off the Mardians.
Ahasuerus stopped his troops at the base of the pass and waited, with Coes and Cambyses at his side. As they had done before, the Mardians sent a man to collect tribute for the use of the pass. It was the same man who had come the last time, and Ahasuerus immediately ordered him taken into custody. There was some activity on the heights as the bandits watched their messenger being led away, but Ahasuerus merely ordered his men to make camp for the night at a safe distance from the heights. Then he waited for night to fall.
Under cover of darkness, a force of two hundred handpicked men slipped away from the Persian camp and met with the king, who was waiting for them with two shepherds and Hathach. Coes, the commander of the small force, was the only one who knew what the king had planned.
Ahasuerus said, “These shepherds know a goat track that will take you up and around the mountain and bring you in behind the Mardians. You must go on foot; it is too steep and snow-covered for horses. It is vital that you reach the heights before dawn breaks.”
The men looked at each other uneasily as they understood the king’s intent.
“At dawn I will show myself at the pass,” Ahasuerus went on. “I will have the Magi make libations, as if I were planning to attempt a crossing. Once I have their attention, you will attack them from the rear. Their weapons are simple; they should make easy targets.”
“My lord!” It was Milis’ voice rising from the lines of men in front of the king. “Can we trust these shepherds? What if they are Mardian sympathizers leading us into a trap?”
A rustle among the chosen troops greeted this inquiry. The men were worried about how the Great King would react to being questioned by a mere lieutenant and worried as well that perhaps the question was valid.
“Hathach?” Ahasuerus said quietly.
“The shepherds are to be trusted,” the young eunuch, who had been born into a mountain tribe, reported. “The king sent me ahead with them to check the track. It is as my lord has said, steep and dangerous, but passable.”
The heads of the shepherds bobbed up and down in vigorous agreement and smiles began to appear among the gathered men.
Coes said, “Let us make ready to depart. Everyone is to carry bows and plenty of arrows.”
Following Hathach and the shepherds, the cream of Persia’s cavalry took to the mountains on foot. The track was as difficult and dangerous as predicted, but the men forged on with grim determination, scrambling ever upward on their hands and knees through the snow-covered rocks of the bleak, frigid mountainside.
They reached the top of the cliff as the moon disappeared from the sky. The men drew up into firing lines and prepared their weapons, expecting that the Mardians would have sentries guarding their backs. There was no one.
“They’re only bandits after all,” Coes muttered to Hathach. “Don’t even have the sense to protect their rear.”
Hathach’s teeth gleamed white. “That will make it easier for us.”
And easy it was. As the first light began to stain the sky, Ahasuerus had the Magi pour libations to the rising sun. The Mardians on the cliffs watched the activity of the Persian army with riveted intensity, each man standing poised beside his pile of rocks expecting to have to use them shortly. The snow helped the men coming in on their rear to move silently, and it was not until the Mardians heard the cry of the first man with an arrow in his back that they realized they had been surprised.
Ahasuerus stood at the entrance to the pass and watched as the bodies of Mardians rained down from the cliff tops. In half an hour’s time, Coes had built the agreed-upon fire signal on the heights, and Ahasuerus committed his army to the pass.
It took them four more days to clean the remaining Mardians out of their strongholds. Those who did not die in the fighting, Ahasuerus sent under guard to Persepolis. When the snow had melted, he said, he would consider what would be their final fate.
Then the king turned for home.
Esther and Luara sat together in Esther’s reception room, which over the last
few months had gradually been transformed from an elegant, silk-hung chamber into a busy and untidy office. On Hegai’s most recent visit, he had looked at the scrolls piled on the large table Esther had installed and said, his admiration mixed with amusement, “You have come a long way for a woman who wanted nothing to do with court life, my lady.”
Esther and Luara had drawn even closer in the month since the army expedition had left for the Persian Gates. They both had someone they loved in danger, and it was a relief for them to have someone to talk to about their fears.
Today the two were engaged in looking at the fabrics and colors Hegai had suggested for the uniforms of the queen’s new Eunuch Guard. They were sitting on the floor, surrounded by swatches of material and exchanging comments, some of them amusingly derogatory, about Hegai’s extravagant taste, when Hegai himself tapped upon the door. Esther looked up from a swatch she and Luara had been giggling about and called, “Come in, Hegai.”
The Chief Eunuch’s face was grave as he stepped into the room. “My lady, your grandfather, Arses, requests an interview with you. He says it is urgent.”
Terror struck Esther’s heart and her hand gripped the fabric swatch so tightly that her knuckles showed white. “The king? Is he all right?”
Hegai hastened to assure her. “It is nothing to do with the king or the army. Arses was clear about that.”
Esther started to breathe again. “All right, then.” She put the fabric sample back on the floor next to the others and began to get to her feet. “I will see him immediately.”
Hegai and Luara rushed to help her rise. “Where do you wish to meet with him?” Hegai asked when she was safely upright.
Esther gestured to the one empty divan. “Here in my office, I suppose.”
Hegai’s eyes swept with disapproval around the cluttered room. He looked back to Esther.
She sighed.
“All right, Hegai. I will not offend your sensibilities by entertaining my grandfather in the midst of such disorder. Bring him to the king’s reception room and I will speak to him there.”
Hegai did not even blink at her casual appropriation of the king’s room. “Very well, my lady. I will do that.”
“Do you want me to come, my lady?” Luara asked.
Esther gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s not about the army, Luara. I had better see him myself, I think.” She put a hand to her lower back, then moved to the door.
Ahasuerus’ reception room felt desolate and empty as she walked in. All of the warmth of his presence had gone from it. She avoided looking at Ahuramazda’s golden disk on the wall and walked to the window that looked out upon the cold winter garden. She had no idea what her grandfather might want, but she had a feeling she would not like it.
When Arses came in she turned and waited for him to kiss her cheek. “I am glad to see you, Grandfather,” she said as he stepped back. “I hope all is well?”
His arrogant black brows were drawn together in a worried frown. She said, “Hegai told me Ahasuerus is all right. That is true, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Ahasuerus is safe, Esther. You need not worry about him.”
“Then what is it? You seem . . . perturbed.”
He reached under his wool tunic and drew out a rolled parchment. “Since I understand you can read, I think you had better read this for yourself. It is a copy of the king’s decree that was proclaimed in Susa yesterday. One of your Jewish neighbors brought it to me and asked me to bring it to you.”
He extended the scroll to Esther, who unrolled it and began to read:
The Great King, Ahasuerus, writes to the satraps of the twenty provinces from India to Egypt, and the governors subordinate to them, as follows: Know you that there is one tribe of bad will living among us, which by its laws is opposed to every other people and continually disregards the decrees of kings, so that the unity of empire designed by us cannot be established.
Having noted, therefore, that this most singular people is continually at variance with all men, lives by divergent and alien laws, is inimical to our interests, and commits the worst crimes, so that stability of government cannot be obtained, we hereby decree that all Jews living in our empire, together with their wives and children, must leave their present dwelling places and places of business and return to the land of their origin, as once was ordered by our father, Cyrus.
If they do not obey this decree by the fourteenth day of the month of Adar of the current year, then they shall be utterly destroyed by the swords of their enemies.
Esther’s first thought was that this must be some kind of hoax, except that Ahasuerus’ seal was affixed to the bottom of the page. She looked up at her grandfather in white-faced shock.
“Ahasuerus did not write this! He would never order such a thing! He has not even been in Susa for the last six weeks!”
Arses said, “We think this is Haman’s doing, Esther. When the king went on campaign he left his Royal Seal in Haman’s keeping and this is how Haman has repaid his trust. I knew he should never have appointed a Palestinian to such a high position!”
Esther looked back at the scroll, not believing what she had just read. Surely even Haman would not dare to do such a thing behind Ahasuerus’ back.
Arses said, “Come and sit down, Granddaughter. You are as white as that scroll.”
She allowed him to lead her to the divan facing the Ahuramazda disk. As soon as she was seated she turned to him. “No one who knows Ahasuerus will believe that he would order such a thing. There is no reason for it. It’s the Mardians he was going after, not the Jews. Why did you come to me, Grandfather? It’s Mordecai you should be speaking to.”
“Esther . . .” Arses hesitated, then went on with slow gravity, “Haman has had Mordecai arrested on charges of embezzling gold from the Treasury.”
“What?” She stared at him as if he were speaking a foreign language.
“I am afraid it is true,” he said.
“It is not true. Uncle Mordecai would never steal anything!”
Arses held up his hand, as if to stop her rush of words. “I know that, Granddaughter. I may not like Mordecai, but I would never doubt his honesty. You must see, though, that accusing Mordecai of such a crime gives Haman justification for moving against the Jews.”
Esther pressed her hands over her eyes, trying to think clearly. At last she looked up, saying firmly, “Ahasuerus will never allow this to happen. Haman has overreached himself. Ahasuerus will be outraged that Haman dared to use his name to perpetrate such a monstrous deed. It is Haman who will find himself on trial, not Uncle Mordecai.”
Arses picked up her hand and held it in a firm clasp. “The point is, Esther, Ahasuerus is not here.”
The true horror of the situation dawned on Esther. The date set in the decree had been the fourteenth day of Adar and the month of Adar had already started. “He must come home immediately, Grandfather. You must send someone to get him.” She gripped Arses’ arm in her anxiety. “I cannot countermand the Grand Vizier. I do not have the power.”
He put his hand over hers, a warm, solid grip. “I realize that, my dear. What you must do is send for the king yourself. He will listen to a message from you, Esther.”
Esther shivered with panic. “But whom can I send? Everyone who would obey a commission of mine is with the king.”
“Send Hathach,” Arses replied immediately, clearly having thought this out. “He is a good horseman, and you can trust him. It must be Hathach.”
“But Hathach is with Ahasuerus, Grandfather!” she cried.
Arses scowled. “I did not know that.”
An idea finally stirred in Esther’s shocked brain. “I know what we can do. I have my own guard now, who are sworn to serve me. I will send some men from my Eunuch Guard.”
Arses’ eyes narrowed. “I have heard nothing of a Eunuch Guard. What is it?”
Esther told him.
Arses shook his head emphatically. “I would not trust a task this crit
ical to a bunch of untrained eunuchs.”
“You wanted to send Hathach,” Esther objected.
“Hathach may be a eunuch but he has the heart of a man. I don’t know about these others. No, I will go myself.” His fierce, dark eyes met Esther’s. “Too many lives are at stake here, Esther, to take any chances.”
She turned her fingers so that she could return his grasp. “Thank you, Grandfather,” she whispered.
“It would be a black mark on Persia forever if such a thing were to be done to helpless people.” He squeezed her hand and then released it. “Have you heard anything at all from the king? Do you know where he might be?”
“I have heard nothing. He could be anywhere between here and the Persian Gates. When was this decree published?”
“It was published yesterday in Susa, but I understand that riders left a week ago for the rest of the empire. That Palestinian weasel waited until he was certain the time would be too short for the Jews to escape.”
Esther’s breath caught in her throat. Haman had calculated well.
“Pray to that God of yours that I reach the king quickly,” Arses said.
“I will,” she promised. Then, as Arses got up to leave, she reached out to hold his arm. “Wait—what about Uncle Mordecai? Where is he now? Will he be safe until Ahasuerus gets here?”
“Mordecai is being held in Haman’s own house. The weasel is taking no chances of losing his prey, but he must hold a trial before he can execute your uncle. Fortunately, the celebration of the vernal equinox is upon us and no trials can be held until it is over. I hope to be back with the king by then.”
The vernal equinox was an important religious holiday for Persians. It was the time of year when the dark part of the day was surpassed by the light, and Persians saw in this change a symbol of the eternal struggle waged between Ahuramazda, god of light, and the Evil Spirit symbolized by the Dark. The celebration went on for three days. On the day before the equinox, the Magi rekindled the sacred fire in the temples outside the city. On the day of the equinox, there was a great royal banquet at the palace. The following day, the king concluded the religious ceremonies by making a visit to Ahuramazda’s sacred spring in the mountains. A variety of rituals were held in ordinary Persian households during this three-day period also. Most importantly for Mordecai, during this holy period no public business could be transacted.