Game of Queens

by India Edghill

  Samamat sighed dramatically and shook her head.

  “What?” Daniel looked at Samamat, her hair gleaming in the firelight. “What else is there to tell?”

  “You know, Daniel. Only everything,” Arioch said.

  “I’m really a very dull person,” Daniel told them, and Samamat laughed ruefully and shook her head. She slanted a glance at Arioch.

  “What about you, Arioch?” Daniel asked, trying to turn the conversation away from himself.

  Arioch shrugged. “I’m a soldier. What else is there to tell?”

  “Only everything.” Daniel looked at Arioch’s firmly shut mouth and realized he wasn’t going to hear “everything”—at least not tonight. Apparently Samamat understood that too, because when Daniel turned to her, she smiled.

  “Do you really want to hear everything, Daniel? Because I must warn you it’s amazingly dull.” Samamat’s gaze flashed to Arioch, who merely stared up at the night sky.

  Why do I suspect that “everything” includes a great deal of Arioch? Daniel decided not to voice that suspicion; statements of fact based firmly on common sense and observation had led to his undeserved reputation for unearthly wisdom. “I want to hear whatever you want to tell, Sama.”

  Samamat laughed. “Now that’s not truth. You certainly don’t want to hear about the conjugations of the stars and how the gods use them to influence men.”

  “Even that. It’s still better than listening to Ari not telling us about his life.”

  “Not what you’d say if I did tell you about it,” Arioch said. “March and wait and fight. Oh, and sometimes we wait and march and then fight. That’s about it.”

  “Of course,” said Daniel. “So … Sama?”

  She regarded Arioch with exasperated fondness. “Just remember, Commander-of-a-Thousand Arioch, this is your own fault.”

  “Oh, absolutely. Go ahead, tell us all about the conjugations of the stars.” Arioch leaned back against the tent pole and closed his eyes.

  “Very well, but remember I’m an astrologer, not a storyteller.” Samamat drew in a deep breath and began, “I was born in Ur, and my family supplied astrologers to priests and kings as far back as—as—”

  “—as they could make it up,” Arioch said without opening his eyes.

  “At least as far as that.” Samamat smiled at Daniel, who smiled back. “The stars are in our blood, a gift from the gods. I grew up hearing my father and my uncles and my brothers talk about the stars and how to read them, and how to interpret their meanings. At night I slipped out of bed and went up to the rooftop to see the stars for myself. I even coaxed my father into taking me to the observatory to watch as he worked.

  “I had the gift too. I listened, and learned to chart the night sky, and to understand what the stars told me. But when I told my father—” She looked up into the brilliant river of stars flowing across the heavens. “Well, he—”

  “He didn’t believe you,” said Daniel, when Samamat seemed unable to continue.

  “What a surprise.” Without opening his eyes, Arioch reached over and touched Samamat’s hand. Samamat lowered her eyes from the river of stars pouring across the midnight sky, seemed to return from far away.

  “No, he didn’t believe me. And he wouldn’t even give me a chance to prove myself. When I asked why, all he would say was that girls couldn’t be astrologers. And when I asked why not, all he would say was there weren’t any women astrologers.”

  “Perfectly circular logic.” Daniel thought you didn’t have to be a Master of Dreams to know that Samamat had paid a high price for hers.

  “And perfectly ridiculous,” Arioch added, and Samamat laughed a bit unsteadily.

  “I thought so,” she said. “So I ran away to the most famous astrologer in all Chaldea. He tested me and learned I spoke the truth when I said I could read the stars. And he cared more about what I could do than about how I looked.”

  “Dead, was he?” Arioch asked, and Samamat threw a cherry at him.

  “No, blind,” she said, and laughed, rather shakily. “Neither, but he was”—she frowned, as if seeking an elusive word—“otherworldly,” she finished at last. “As if he saw even more than—well, than Daniel here does.”

  “Me?” said Daniel. “I don’t see anything special.”

  “Of course not.” Arioch raised his eyebrows at Samamat, who merely shook her head.

  “Do you realize we’ve been talking since sunset and you two have barely said a dozen words each? Men,” Samamat said disgustedly.

  “I’d rather listen than talk.” Daniel would certainly rather look at Samamat as she spoke. He supposed she was beautiful; but it wasn’t her sun-gold hair and sky-blue eyes that drew his gaze to her face. She’s good and wise and strong. She’s not a Jew, but she’s a woman of valor. Above rubies.

  “What are you thinking about so intently?” Samamat asked, pulling Daniel abruptly back from his contemplation of her virtues. Unable to think of an unrevealing answer, he fumbled with the bowl he held, as if the lamb stew sought to escape.

  “Stop asking questions you already know the answer to,” Arioch told Samamat, who laughed. She took the bowl from Daniel’s hands and set it on the ground.

  “Look up,” she said. “Look up, Daniel, and I’ll read the stars for you.”

  * * *

  Unlike as they were, the three still became close friends. Daniel had not known, before, that men and women could be friends. But Samamat was his friend; he hoped, wistfully, that someday she might be more. Just as Arioch was his friend, and must never be more than that. Daniel had violated many commandments; had savored pleasures his stern God would not approve of—although Daniel had never been struck down for any of them, so perhaps God wasn’t nearly as strict as Shadrach.

  But in this—No, never more than friends.

  And Arioch’s heart belonged to Samamat, although neither Arioch nor Samamat seemed willing to admit that truth. Still, some of Arioch’s love belonged to Daniel. It would be easy to claim more—so easy—Daniel knew that, and knew that he should not surrender to the urgings of his heart. No, that he must not. He wasn’t a boy now, but a man.

  Youth and innocence would no longer serve as an excuse.

  * * *

  “Daniel? Daniel!”

  Violent pounding on his door; shouting that pulled him out of dreamless sleep. It’s deep night. What—?

  “Daniel!”

  The pounding continued; awake now, Daniel recognized Arioch’s voice. Fumbling for his robe, Daniel rolled out of bed, wondering vaguely where the servants were. Oh, well, if Arioch wanted to come in, the servants wouldn’t be much use in keeping him out. But this isn’t a very discreet visit—

  Daniel flung the robe over his head and groped for the door. He set his hand on the latch and drew the bolt. “Arioch, are you drunk? It’s the middle of the night.”

  Arioch stopped his fist just as he was about to pound on Daniel’s chest. “It’s whatever time the king may-he-live-forever says it is. And he says it’s time to play guessing games.”

  “What?” Daniel stared at Arioch, who looked neither drunk nor amused. In fact, if Daniel didn’t know Arioch couldn’t be frightened by dragons or lions, he’d say Arioch was afraid. “Arioch, what’s wrong?” Daniel grabbed Arioch’s arm and hauled him into the bedchamber.

  “Good idea,” Arioch said, and slammed the door shut and threw the bolt home. “That ought to keep the servants out. Where’s the lamp? Forget it, we don’t need one. Listen, Daniel—the king’s gone mad. Truly mad.”

  “What?” Of course, Nebuchadnezzar had always been high-strung, even erratic, but mad? It’s Arioch who sounds mad. Daniel spoke calmly, striving to soothe his friend. “Arioch, calm yourself. Now tell me what’s sent you here at this hour—and in this state. Slowly, please.”

  “Right.” Arioch drew a deep breath. “Well, the king woke up at midnight screaming loud enough to wake the dead in the lowest level of hell. All the guards in his chamber ran out and
all the ones in the hall ran in and by the time they got sorted out, someone had had the sense to wake me up.”

  As Arioch paused for breath, Daniel said, “Shall I call a servant to bring you some wine? Beer? Anything?”

  “We don’t want a servant hearing this, and if I never smell wine again it’ll be too soon after tonight. But you need to hear the whole story before you talk to the king. So I run through the palace and get to the king’s bedchamber—”

  And there had stood Nebuchadnezzar, stark naked except for his crown and with his body dripping red liquid.

  “It was wine,” Arioch explained.

  Nebuchadnezzar glared at Arioch—“As if I’d woken him up, instead of the other way around”—and howled. The only word understandable was “dream.”

  “So I got the idea that the king had suffered a bad dream. Which was better than my first thought, which was someone had slipped past his guards with a poisoned dagger.”

  Nebuchadnezzar had dreamed. He had dreamed vividly, disturbingly, fearfully. The dream had troubled him so he had woken shouting and trembling and soaked with sweat. Fearful he’d find it gone, he had reached for his crown and set it upon his head. He had demanded wine, and more wine, and instead of drinking, he ordered the guards to pour it over his body. He stared at Arioch and issued an order—

  “Bring all the magicians and wise men and sorcerers and astrologers—”

  Somehow Daniel had known the word “astrologers” would follow “sorcerers.” I don’t like this. I have a bad feeling about this. I’m so glad I have no special talent—

  “—to him right then. In his bedchamber.”

  “In his bedchamber?”

  “That’s right.” Arioch leaned against the door. “I got out of that by pointing out—with great and dutiful subservience—that they wouldn’t all fit in his bedchamber. And that it would be much more in keeping with the glory of the King of Kings for the mages and sorcerers and astrologers to be brought before him in his throne room. When he was dressed.”

  “Arioch, you didn’t say that?”

  “Oh, but I did. Not quite in those words. You’d be surprised how tactful I can be when my head’s on the line. So the King of Kings calmed down and agreed that it would be much more proper for the mages and so on to see him as the King of Kings should be seen. So his servants started wiping wine off him and I went off to carry out my orders.”

  Interpreting the king’s order to mean only those who dwelt within the palaces and directly served the king’s court, Arioch sent men to wake the required magi, sorcerers, and astrologers. They were told to gather in the throne room, and not to waste time getting dressed. Arioch had woken Samamat himself, and explained the crisis to her, and personally escorted her to the throne room.

  “I told her to be tactful, Daniel. No matter what the king did.”

  Of course you did, Arioch. I’m sure she listened as well as she always does.

  The hastily assembled experts in magic, spells, charms, incantations, and stars confronted the King of Kings in all his jeweled splendor. Nebuchadnezzar glared down from his high gold throne and announced that they had been summoned because he had dreamed a dream and his spirit was deeply troubled. The King of Kings wished to know what his dream meant. The most exalted in rank of the experts bowed deeply and most humbly asked the King of Kings to retell his dream, that it might be interpreted for him.

  I have a very bad feeling about this—

  “And that’s when Nebuchadnezzar said he couldn’t remember what the dream was.”

  “What?”

  “And … that’s … when…” Arioch began to repeat very slowly.

  “All right, I understand. The king couldn’t remember his dream. Then why did—”

  “He call in all the magi and the rest? Because he wants this dream that he doesn’t remember interpreted. And if they can’t do it, Daniel, he’s ordered them all executed. Them and every other dealer in magic and science in the whole city—or maybe in the whole kingdom. I’m not quite clear on that one yet.”

  Daniel stood very still and reminded himself that invoking the name of the Lord in vain broke one of the Commandments. For a few moments neither man spoke. At last Daniel said, “And I suppose Samamat—”

  “Couldn’t keep her mouth shut? Of course not, Daniel. Why would she do a sensible thing like that? No, she bowed and most respectfully beseeched the King of Kings to wrack his royal brains and see if maybe he could remember just a little bit of the dream, which would really help his loyal and obedient subjects interpret it for him. So then he ordered Samamat to tell him his dream.”

  Oh, no. “And she said—?”

  Arioch sighed. “She said the stars don’t tell things like that. They—oh, you know what she talks like. I can’t understand half of it. What it boiled down to is another I don’t know. And the king doesn’t like that answer.”

  “But it’s the truth.”

  “Of course it’s the truth. The king’s mad, Daniel. He doesn’t even remember the damned dream. Assuming he had a dream in the first place, and not just a hangover.”

  “And you want me to talk to him?” Daniel’s mind always clung to details; he hadn’t forgotten Arioch’s statement when the story began. “If he’s mad, what am I going to be able to do?”

  “I don’t know, Daniel. Think of something? Because if you don’t Samamat and the rest of the astrologers are going to be lion food. And that’s if they’re lucky. Come on.” Arioch grabbed Daniel’s arm and Daniel heard the bolt slide back.

  “Wait, Arioch.”

  “Daniel, there’s no time. He could be sending for lions right now.”

  Arioch’s fear beat against him; Daniel forced himself to summon calm. Nothing, absolutely nothing, would be gained by unruly haste. “Arioch, I have to think. And I have to dress.”

  “Think while you dress then. And think hard.”

  * * *

  Daniel barely noticed what his servants chose for him to wear. He was trying to think hard, and failing. At last he abandoned the attempt; ordered his panic-stricken servants to leave him. When he and Arioch once more stood alone in the bedchamber, Daniel held up his hands. As Arioch began to speak, Daniel said, “Give me silence, for a little time. Your patience will help, too.”

  “We haven’t got a little time, Daniel.”

  “I know. I know. Just—wait. Please.”

  Arioch shook his head, but stepped back and folded his arms. Daniel cupped his hands before his face and closed his eyes. O my Lord God, You who are king over all the world and the stars, help me. I know I have fallen from grace in Your eyes, but I ask your aid. A warm certainty filled him; yes, this was right. Ask and it shall be granted. Give me the wisdom to—To what? The certainty faded. No one knew better than Daniel how vital it was to make the proper petition. To ask for the right thing. Should he lay the whole burden upon his God?

  No. This is my task—I know this task has been set for me, but I need Your help. Give me the wisdom to calm the raging king, and to bring peace back to his life.

  Slowly, Daniel lowered his hands. How odd; he’d intended to ask help to save Samamat. And the others, of course. But he had asked what he had asked, and it was too late to change his words.…

  “Are you ready now, Daniel?” Arioch asked, shifting restlessly, and Daniel nodded.

  “Yes, Arioch. I’m ready. Take me before the king.”

  * * *

  “O great king, I have found a man who will tell you your dream. Live forever.” Arioch bowed and nudged Daniel with his elbow. Daniel bowed and began the long walk between the rows of terrified mages, sorcerers, and astrologers to the steps leading up to the king’s throne.

  He walked slowly, making each pace deliberate, measured. At the steps of the throne, he bowed again. He hoped his slow, steady movements would calm the king, that he would seem no threat to whatever raged within Nebuchadnezzar.

  “O king, live forever. How may I serve the king?” Daniel’s voice soothed, coax
ed. King Nebuchadnezzar’s glare softened.

  “I have dreamed a dream,” the king said. “And I would know its meaning. And none of these useless creatures”—Nebuchadnezzar swept his scepter in a wide arc, aiming it at his fearful audience—“will tell it to me. If you can tell me, I will raise you high above all other men, and if you cannot, you and all these worthless mages will be cut into a thousand pieces and fed to the royal lions. Now what dream troubles me?”

  Daniel glanced over at Samamat. She smiled encouragingly, nodded very slightly; Daniel hoped he would prove worthy of her faith in him. He drew a deep breath, and began.

  “O great king, I myself am nothing, but God in heaven is great, and He reveals secrets. He makes known your dream to you.”

  Nebuchadnezzar’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t know. You’re trying to gain time, just as the others did. Arioch, you’ve deceived me!”

  Daniel took a step forward. “No! This is your dream, O king—” Certainty filled him; gave his voice strength. “You saw a huge image, the image of a king. His head was of gold and his chest and arms were silver. His thighs were brass and his legs iron, and his feet were made of clay.”

  The king was leaning forward, intent on Daniel’s words. His rapt silence gave Daniel new strength. Apparently this hastily spun dream appealed to the king.

  “And then—then a stone hit the image and it fell to pieces and was carried away upon the winds. The stone became a mountain, filling all the earth.” I have no idea what I’m saying. But whatever it is, Nebuchadnezzar seems to like it. Thank you, God of my fathers.

  “Yes. Yes, that is it. That is my dream!” Nebuchadnezzar clapped his hands together in childish delight. “And its meaning? Tell me that! Tell me!”

  Daniel bowed again, and took a moment to stare at the inlaid tiles beneath his feet. “You are the gold head, O king. You are a king of kings, and your kingdom is precious as gold. And after you shall come a lesser kingdom, and then a lesser still, and after them a kingdom strong as iron.” Then Daniel heard himself saying unplanned words. “And after all of these, a kingdom of iron and clay, strong as iron and weak as clay. And the God of heaven shall create a kingdom which will never be destroyed, but hold all the other kingdoms within it. And it will endure forever.”