Game of Queens

by India Edghill

  I did not tell anyone that Queen Ishvari visited me as I slept, not even Daniel Dream-Master. I did not even tell him I now dreamed of a crown; a crown of stars. I entrusted my dreams to no one.

  My dreams were a secret treasure; mine alone to cherish.

  * * *

  “I have spoken with Daniel the Dream Master,” I told Hegai proudly. “Did you know he once lived in my grandfather’s court? He says I look like my grandmother!”

  “Yes,” Hegai said, “I knew that. He has lived a long time, and served many kings. And Daniel is now very old.” Hegai studied my face, and added, “Yes, little queen, older than I. Far, far older.” Hegai did not laugh, but I saw him smile. “Now come see what the Queen Mother has sent you today.”

  Today Amestris had sent me a butterfly in a silver cage. Within the silver wire, the butterfly sat motionless, wings trembling. I carried the silver cage into the Queen’s Garden. My garden. There I opened the cage door and watched the beautiful creature fly, its wings flashing blue as lapis among the flowers.

  * * *

  Unlike Queen Mother Amestris, the lady Samamat expected more of me than my beauty; she expected me to use my mind. Samamat was the only person I knew who seemed not to care at all what I looked like. Even Ahasuerus had been pleased to see that his wife was beautiful. Samamat did not regard beauty as an achievement.

  “But isn’t it better to be beautiful?” I asked her, and Samamat sighed.

  “Yes, Queen Vashti, it is. Why? Because that’s the way it is. But remember that beauty can vanish in a breath. And beauty’s not much good if you don’t know how to analyze it and use it.”

  When I demanded to know how to use beauty, Samamat smiled and said, “Oh, child, I’m not the woman who can teach you that.”

  “Who is?”

  Samamat never brushed any of my questions aside. Now she said, “I’ll think about that one, Vashti. Now would you like to help me sort and soak the beans?”

  Despite her great age and high learning, Samamat performed many of her small household’s common needs herself. When I had asked her why—for she could have afforded as many slaves as she chose to buy—Samamat had said that it was always wise to know how to achieve things without aid. “Suppose someday you have no slaves, no handmaidens, to attend you. Will you die of hunger because you cannot cook even the simplest dish, or of thirst because you are too proud to lift a pitcher for yourself?”

  Since I wished Samamat to think very well of me, I shook my head. And I allowed her to teach me what she thought I needed to know. I learned, although I could not imagine a life in which I had no servants rushing to care for me.

  It is to Samamat that I owe such womanly skills as I possess. She also took me up to the palace roof at night and taught me to know the stars. I learned their names, and how to tell what hour of the night it was by their placement in the sky. And I learned the stars would guide me, if I were lost. One pale bright star stood in the north.

  “It never moves,” Samamat told me. “The sky wheels around it—see that arc of stars, there? Follow that arc to its end, and there you find a trustworthy guide.”

  Only one other person—so I thought then—required more of me than my beautiful eyes and my exotic hair. Daniel Dream-Master spoke to me as if I were his own age; it was my task to follow his words, if I could.

  It was in Daniel’s courtyard that I first learned how others truly thought of me. One afternoon I had just run into the small courtyard when I saw Captain Dariel enter through a door in the eastern wall. A woman ran to him, hands outstretched, and Dariel had her in his arms before either saw me standing there watching. Then the woman pulled away from him, and her honey-hued skin paled to a sickly white, as if she had been stricken gravely ill.

  I knew of course that Captain Dariel was the lady Samamat’s son, sired by her first husband Arioch. And I remembered one of the things Dariel had told me on my journey here to Shushan. I smiled in delight. “You must be Captain Dariel’s wife!”

  Dariel sighed. “Yes,” he began, and the woman grasped his arm. “No!” Her denial cut sharp. “Say nothing. She will run and tell it all to Queen Amestris before nightfall.”

  “Will you do that, Queen Vashti?” said a soft voice, and Samamat walked slowly out of the blue-tiled house and stood beside me.

  I studied the woman who stood clutching Dariel’s arm. She was far older than I, perhaps thirty, but she was still very beautiful, with long eyes dark as a moonless night and hair that rippled like black water to her knees.

  “Of course she will. She tells Amestris everything.” The woman sounded … afraid. Bewildered, I looked up at Samamat.

  “You do,” Samamat told me. “Have you never wondered why no one says anything of importance in your hearing?”

  “Of course she hasn’t.” Daniel had come out to join us, and now Dariel sighed. “Yes,” Daniel added, “it is getting crowded. Now, Sama, why should the child have noticed any such thing?”

  Samamat liked me to puzzle things out for myself; now I looked up at her, and then at Dariel, and then at the beautiful woman. Why would she be afraid of me, or that I would tell Amestris?

  “You are not supposed to be here!” I said, delighted that I had found the answer. No one said anything, not even Samamat. The silence stretched uneasy between us, and I thought over what else had been said. That no one would speak freely before me because I ran and told the Queen Mother everything—But this is a secret, and it is not mine to tell. Is that what Samamat means? But why would Dariel’s wife be a secret?

  “But you are Captain Dariel’s wife,” I said, “Why shouldn’t you be here with him? And with his mother?”

  “You see?” said Dariel’s beautiful wife. Dariel sighed. “This is my doing, Cassandane; I mentioned—once—that I missed my wife, when I was telling the little queen stories to pass time on the road.”

  Samamat smiled at me. “You have a good memory, Queen Vashti.”

  “Too good.” Cassandane buried her face in her hands, and Dariel put his arm around her.

  “We will leave Shushan,” he said, and Cassandane shook her head.

  “And go where?” She lifted her head and stared at me; the bitterness in her face startled me. “It is hopeless, my love. We knew that from the start.”

  Again no one spoke, waiting. At last I said, “Why?”

  Samamat stared hard at her son, who sighed again but obeyed that silent command. “Because, my queen, Cassandane belonged to King Ahasuerus’s father,” Dariel said.

  I thought hard about this. A king’s women always belonged to him, or to his successor—but I cold not imagine Ahasuerus desiring to have a woman as old as Cassandane, even if she was still beautiful. So why should she not marry Dariel? My silence was not easy for Cassandane to endure—later, when I was older and we were friends, she told me she had used that span of silence to practice the words she would use to ask Dariel to kill her swiftly, before the royal executioners could carry out whatever grisly death the Queen Mother would decree for her.

  “Surely Ahasuerus will let you marry if I ask him to,” I said, and Cassandane made a choking sound and pressed her hand over her lips.

  “You see?” Cassandane’s voice trembled. “She is a child; she will not be silent.”

  “She is the queen, too. Ask her,” Daniel said.

  Cassandane stared at me, doubtful. Then she sank to her knees before me. “O queen, if it pleases you, grant my petition and my request. Give me my life, and Captain Dariel’s life. Tell no one what you have seen here today. Do not tell Queen Mother Amestris that you saw me with Dariel. Do not tell the king. I beg of you.”

  Kneeling, her warm brown eyes gazed into mine. I saw fear there, and hope. This was the first time someone had asked a boon of me as queen. I looked over to Daniel and Samamat, but their faces revealed nothing. I was to make this decision myself.

  I drew a deep breath. “It pleases me to grant your petition and your request, Cassandane. I will tell no one that I saw
you with Captain Dariel. No one.”

  “Even Queen Mother Amestris?” Captain Dariel asked, and Samamat laughed; it was not a pretty sound.

  “My son, you’re assuming Amestris doesn’t already know,” Samamat said. “She’s quite capable of keeping that knowledge to herself until it’s useful to her.”

  “Perhaps she does,” said Captain Dariel. He reached down and took Cassandane’s hand and helped her to her feet. “But the word of Queen Vashti that she will say nothing is the best we can do now.”

  * * *

  The word of Queen Vashti is the best we can do now. Captain Dariel’s words echoed in my mind, and the weary hopelessness they carried made my cheeks burn.

  … the best we can do …

  Seeking comfort, I ran straight to Hegai, who took one look at me and caught me up in his arms. “What troubles my queen?”

  About to spill the entire tale into his ears, I suddenly remembered I had sworn to grant Cassandane’s petition and request. To tell no one that she was married to Dariel. To tell no one I saw her with Dariel. Did that also mean I could tell no one I had met Cassandane at all?

  “Vashti? What has upset you so? Or who?” Hegai’s voice calmed, coaxed. I decided I could at least speak of seeing so beautiful a lady. If I could not trust Hegai, who swore he belonged to me utterly, then I could trust no one.

  “Hegai, do you know a lady in the palace named Cassandane? She is old, but very beautiful.”

  “Yes, I know of her.” Laughter warmed Hegai’s voice. “And she is not so very old.”

  “Not as old as Queen Mother Amestris?” I asked.

  “No, not so old as that. Where did you meet her, my queen? Was she unkind to you?”

  Faintly baffled by the question, I shook my head. No one in all the palace had ever been unkind to me. I could not imagine such a thing. But still “The word of Queen Vashti is the best we can do” whispered behind my ears. Not unkind words—not meant unkindly, at any rate.

  But were they true? Was my word worth so little?

  No. I am Queen Ishvari’s granddaughter. I will do as I have promised.

  Hegai hugged me and set me down. “No, I did not think the lady Cassandane would be unkind. Did you like her, my queen?”

  “Oh, yes.” I saw again Cassandane’s face lit with joy as she ran to Captain Dariel, and then the sickly white beneath her skin when her eyes saw me watching them. “Hegai—may I have the lady Cassandane to serve in my household?”

  I thought this ploy very clever, and it did not once occur to me that my wish would be denied.

  Nor was it. The lady Cassandane joined my household, and soon it seemed she had always been a part of my life. Too clever to attempt to act as a mother to me—that role belonged to Amestris—Cassandane claimed the position of elder sister for herself. She taught me the value of silence, and how to listen. Men, Cassandane told me solemnly, wished to be entertained.

  “And nothing amuses a man quite so much as talking about himself,” Cassandane said. “If you remember only one thing about men, my queen, remember that.”

  I did not always listen to Cassandane’s wise words; why should I? Cassandane, too, indulged me and bowed to my will. I was the queen, and she only one of the last king’s concubines. And I knew a secret about her that would be her death if I breathed so much as one word of it. So Cassandane did her best to teach me what I was willing to learn, but fear and caution kept her from denying me anything I chose to demand.

  It was Queen Mother Amestris who still ruled my days. Only later did I understand how thoroughly I was her creation. And although a few tried to mitigate her influence on me, they could only hope I would heed them, and that their tending would someday bear sweet fruit. And they had to work subtly, and in shadow.

  No one dared openly defy Amestris.

  It never occurred to me even to try. All Amestris ever desired of me was that I amuse myself and please her son. I did not realize then that she had no intention of ever surrendering the reins of power; she strove to create two beautiful, frivolous puppets. Amestris wished me to put my own pleasure above all else; I did not have many duties as queen, and those few formed the only dull spots in my bright butterfly life.

  * * *

  One of my duties I found not only dull, but unpleasant: I disliked choosing new girls for the king’s harem. I silently scolded myself for this, calling myself selfish and unkind—for why should Ahasuerus not enjoy pleasures I could not yet offer him?

  At first, when told I must learn to choose girls for my husband’s harem, I was shocked. Then, as Amestris explained to me why I must learn to do this, my shock and embarrassment faded, replaced by a desire to prove to the Queen Mother that I could behave in a proper manner; I did possess the skills a queen must have. Something in Amestris’s tone of voice always had that effect: irritating and inspiring.

  “A king must have more and better than any other man. A king must possess only the best. His women are gems upon his robes, and they must be gems of flawless quality. Someday I will not stand here beside you, Vashti. You must learn to choose the king’s jewels. Remember, only the best, the most beautiful. The King of Kings must possess nothing that is not perfect.”

  So simply as that, Amestris reminded me again that I was the most beautiful, the most perfect, of Ahasuerus’s possessions.

  * * *

  I still remember the first time it was my duty to gaze upon beautiful girls and decide which would pass into the king’s harem and which would leave weeping and rejected. I was sitting in the queen’s courtyard, trailing peacock feathers for my Chin puppy to chase, when Hegai came to me. I smiled and ran to him, but stopped when he bowed low to me.

  “O queen, will it please you to look upon the maidens that have been brought to the palace, and choose those that will remain for the pleasure of the King of Kings?”

  Queen Mother Amestris had told me I must do this; still I was taken by surprise. Choose concubines for Ahasuerus? Now? I stared at Hegai, too dismayed to speak.

  Hegai put his arm around me. “The sooner it pleases the queen to come, the sooner the task will be completed.”

  I followed Hegai to a vast room in the Women’s Palace. The walls were hung with crimson and yellow curtains embroidered with scenes from the tales of the Loves of Ishtar, and rugs woven bright with flowers covered the smooth stone floor. In the middle of the room half a dozen maidens stood. Their faces were painted so heavily and they were so richly garbed I could not tell what they truly looked like—or one from the other.

  I looked up at Hegai, hoping he would indicate which girls he thought I should select for the king’s harem, but he did not meet my eyes. So I knew I had to make my own choices.

  I stared at the waiting girls, hoping the Good God Ahura Mazda would send a sign telling me which to favor. Then I realized Ishtar, goddess of love, was more likely to be of help in this matter and swiftly and silently petitioned Her for aid. But Ishtar sent no sign either.

  I was only ten years old—what did I know of what would please a man? At last I pointed at random.

  “That one,” I said, “and that one. And that one.” I stopped, having no real idea of how many new concubines the King of Kings needed. And as I hesitated, I looked again at the girls and saw that one of the three I had not pointed to had tears glinting in her eyes. The second stared at the rug beneath her feet; the third bit her lip hard.

  Their sadness spoke to my heart; I could not send them away. Whatever happened to a girl I rejected, that fate drew tears. I drew in a deep breath, and said swiftly,

  “And that one and that one and that one too.” I looked up at Hegai, who smiled.

  “Good choices, all,” Hegai told me.

  * * *

  But if Hegai was pleased by my kindness, Amestris was not. “Vashti, you are the most foolish child! If you will not listen to me, you should at least listen to Hegai. You must at least make a pretense of judging the girls!”

  I stared at the floor between us. I d
id not say that Hegai had smiled at me, approved my generosity in choosing all the girls. Nor did I say that I remembered each of Amestris’s rulings perfectly, but that I had simply found myself unable to carry them out. “I am sorry. But the ones who thought themselves unchosen wept, and—”

  “And found the right weapon to make you surrender.” Amestris sighed. “Well, there is nothing to do about it now. But next time, Vashti, at least ask to look upon them unclothed. Or make them wash the makeup from their faces!”

  I raised my head and saw an indulgent smile on Amestris’s red lips.

  * * *

  But all childhood ends. Mine lasted longer than that of many girls, for Amestris saw no need to rush me into her son’s bed. “Yes, you are a woman now,” she told me the year I turned fourteen, and began to bleed with the moon. “But you are still not a woman grown. Trust me, there is no need for haste.”

  I did trust her; how should I not? She had been nothing but kind and indulgent since the hour she had come to take me out of my old life and into this one. So I happily continued as Ahasuerus’s friend and companion—and continued to pick pretty concubines for his bed—for another two years. I did not understand how my unnaturally prolonged childhood affected my husband’s feelings for me, or how gravely it damaged our marriage.

  HEGAI

  There never seemed enough hours to accomplish all I must; the position of Chief Eunuch to the harem of the King of Kings is no sinecure. Sometimes, as I gravely allotted garments to the king’s women, or tallied up the nights they had spent in the king’s bed, I would stop and stare and suddenly realize that after all the days and nights that had passed, I was no closer to my goal of destroying Haman than I had been the day he killed my mother. Had his death been all I desired, I could have sunk a knife into him a dozen times over, not caring if I escaped punishment for the deed. But I wanted more than just Haman’s death.

  I wanted him ruined. I wanted him to know that I had triumphed and he failed utterly.