Game of Queens

by India Edghill

  I smiled. “Then you may keep your name, but it will be said in Persian. You are Varkha now.”

  He regarded me warily. “Varkha means wolf?”

  “Yes, Varkha means wolf.”

  He considered for a moment, then nodded. “Then I am Varkha now. What is the second thing you wish to ask of me, my lord?”

  “That you do not cut your hair.”

  Since among his own people, as he told me later, when we were friends, neither men nor women ever cut their hair, Varkha gladly accepted this condition.

  “Good,” I said. “Now go to sleep, young wolf, and soon I will introduce you to a woman who is very fond of wolves.”

  VASHTI

  When at last I returned to Shushan and my own palace, I was so delighted to see Hegai waiting for me I flung myself into his arms. I meant to tell him about Ecbatana, and the mountains, and the journey, and a dozen other unimportant things—anything other than my marriage month—but instead I burst into tears. Hegai announced that the journey had wearied me and carried me to the Queen’s Bath.

  The familiar, soothing routine of the baths banished tension I had not known I suffered. Hegai asked no questions, and refused to allow any of my servants to trouble me with questions either. They tended me in obedient silence; I nearly fell asleep as Hegai combed my hair.

  When at last he set the sandalwood comb aside, I stood and stretched. “Oh, Hegai, I did miss you!”

  “Did you, my queen?”

  I turned and put my arms around him. “Of course I did—” I stopped; surely I should have been so enthralled by my husband I cared for nothing else. I stared at Hegai’s chest as if fascinated by the cinnabar amulet he wore.

  Hegai kissed my forehead, his lips cool against my hot skin. “Gifts from the King of Kings await you. Come.”

  Hegai told me all the gossip that had flowed through the palace while I had been gone, and showed me the gifts Ahasuerus had ensured would be waiting for me. There was a chess set, its pieces made of ivory and ebony, and its board of silver and copper. I picked up a cup-and-ball carved from cedar and adorned with silver stars. I tossed the ball upward and caught it on my first try. I set the cup-and-ball aside; I could play with it later. There were many more games and half a dozen new riding outfits of silk-soft leather. But the gifts that pleased me most were the new pets Ahasuerus had bestowed upon me.

  There was a little deer with a collar of scarlet leather hung with golden bells, a long-tailed parrot that could say a dozen words, and a pair of silver fox kits so tame they came prancing up to me as if they were puppies. The gift that delighted me most was a half-grown cheetah, an elegant, regal creature that deigned to sniff my fingers and let me stroke its head. The cheetah wore a wide collar of gold set with emeralds.

  There were also silver collars adorned with amber for Vayu and Atar, so I knew Ahasuerus truly wished to please me, for he never did grow to like my wolves.

  And to care for these creatures, Ahasuerus had given me two new slaves: a pair of girls with the ebony skin of Nubia and the elegant cheekbones and almond eyes of Egypt. Hegai told me their names were Ajashea and Bolour—

  “And we love animals more than anything! We can care for all of your pets, royal lady.” Ajashea barely remembered to bow, and her enthusiasm made me laugh.

  “Well, I am very glad to have you. Are you sisters?” They looked enough alike to be that close.

  Both girls shook their heads, the crystal beads braided in their dark hair flashing. “We’re cousins,” Bolour said. “My mother is her mother’s sister, and her father is my father’s brother.”

  Such close-knit unions indeed made them almost sisters. I thought I might dress them alike; they would look charming—or I could dress them as opposites … Hegai touched my arm, and I stopped daydreaming and told the two girls I had many pets for them to care for, and then let them run along to play in the garden. The foxes dashed after them, yipping, while the deer followed more slowly, the bells on its collar chiming. The cheetah watched the deer wistfully, but, well trained, did not bound after it. The parrot remained on its perch; I held out my hand and it stepped delicately onto my wrist.

  “It was very kind of the king to send me such gifts.” I slanted a glance at Hegai, but his face revealed nothing.

  “Very kind,” Hegai agreed.

  “The king loves me dearly,” I said.

  “Yes,” said Hegai, “he loves you dearly.” His voice was soft and low, and his eyes did not meet mine. He reached out and gently stroked the parrot’s head.

  I longed to fling myself into Hegai’s arms again, and ask him why Ahasuerus did not want the most beautiful woman in all the empire. Why he did not want me. But when at last Hegai looked at me again, I saw a resigned despair in his eyes. And I realized there was nothing I needed to tell him.

  But if Hegai never asked about my marriage month, I knew the Queen Mother would not be so restrained. I created a tale for her rich with fulsome praises of my husband and endless recitations of my delight in his gifts. Later, I found other ways to mislead her. For Ahasuerus had a harem full of lovely women whom I had dutifully chosen for him to enjoy. Now that we had returned to Shushan, Ahasuerus called for them most nights, and not for me. Oddly, now that we were truly married, I saw Ahasuerus less than I had before.

  Still, he called for me once each week—a clear sign of favor. His harem was large, as befit the King of Kings, and some of his women were summoned to him only once in a year. Upon my nights with Ahasuerus, we often merely played chess, or read silently, or simply slept. That was one more secret I kept from Amestris.

  “If he loves me, would he not call for me more often?” I thought this a clever complaint, implying I lusted for Ahasuerus. Queen Mother Amestris smiled and patted my cheek, as if I were her pet monkey.

  “Of course my son loves you, Vashti. But he is king as well as husband. It is most suitable that he put you first—he calls for you every seventh day. And it is also most suitable that he not neglect his concubines. Many of them come from important families, and it would not do to seem to slight them. How wise of you to see this.”

  Somehow she twisted my childish protest into a virtue, and left me nothing to say but thank you.

  HEGAI

  I withheld my new gift for Vashti for a week after her return from Ecbatana. By then I saw how unhappy she was, and how puzzled, by the lack of passion in her marriage. She had changed, yes—but she had not changed into Ahasuerus’s wife. I tried not to delight in that.

  When I brought Varkha to the Queen’s Palace and presented him as a gift to Vashti, she took one look at him and twirled about him, looking him up and down and clapping her hands with delight. And when I told her that her new eunuch was Varkha of the Amber-Eyed Wolves tribe, and that he came from the endless plains to the north of the empire, her despondency vanished.

  “My mother’s mother was Ishvari of the Black Horse People.” Once again my queen was all smiles and delight. “Do you know of them? Perhaps we are cousins? Do you think Varkha and I might be cousins, Hegai?”

  “You might.” It seemed most unlikely to me, but if it pleased Vashti to think so—and who knew? Perhaps it even was true.

  “Cousin!” Vashti said, and pulled off a turquoise necklace and clasped it around Varkha’s neck.

  Varkha cast me a rather nervous glance, but I smiled and nodded at him—and once he became used to Vashti’s dragonfly playfulness, they got on very well.

  To Vashti’s joy, Varkha adored her two wolves. Atar and Vayu took to Varkha at first sniff. Wolves were the totem of Varkha’s tribe, and the sight of Vashti fawned upon by wolves convinced Varkha she was worthy of high regard, so both of them were pleased.

  Varkha proved an excellent investment and, as I had hoped, a very useful gift. He not only greatly improved Vashti’s mood, he kept me apprised of any of Vashti’s mischief she wished to keep secret from me. Less useful was his use as Vashti’s double; dressed in garb that re-created her favorite costumes and fla
unting his moon-pale hair, he easily passed for Vashti at a distance. I discovered Vashti’s new amusement only after she had ordered Varkha to put on one of her favorite gowns and play with her wolves in the largest of the queen’s gardens—being no fool, he came to me at once.

  By the time I tracked down “Varkha,” Vashti had managed to spend an hour sitting on the Great Staircase eating apricots and watching the caravans come in through the Western Gate. When I put an end to this delightful pastime and demanded to know why she had done this, Vashti looked at me and said, “But isn’t that what you intended, when you gave me Varkha?”

  “No, it is not—” I stopped, realizing what dangerous footing explanations could lead us to. I settled for saying, “You must never do such a thing again without consulting me first.”

  Vashti tilted her head, regarding me slantwise through her lashes. “And if I do? What will you do then?”

  “What I should do,” I said, “is beat you until you behave yourself.”

  “And how long do you think that would take, dear Hegai?” Vashti twined her fingers in my hair and pulled my head down until she could kiss my cheek. Then she ran off laughing while I stood staring after her, my fingers tracing the outline of her lips on my skin.

  VASHTI

  Nothing changed now that I was Ahasuerus’s wife in fact as well as in name—save that now I could ask anything of Ahasuerus and have it granted. He bestowed gifts upon me as if I were a favored child, and I took free advantage of his guilt-driven generosity. My life settled back into its routine of pleasing, amusing days. The only true difference was that now my servants regarded me closely each month, to see if I ripened with the king’s child—and each month, they were disappointed. But I was young; the empire would wait.

  As one year ended and a new began, I sensed a change in Ahasuerus. Although he still laughed, he seemed less amused by my pranks now. When I complained to Amestris, she assured me I was mistaken.

  “Ahasuerus relies on you for diversion, Vashti. Pay no heed to his dark moods.”

  * * *

  Taking Amestris’s words to heart, I decided to divert Ahasuerus with the greatest prank we had yet played, one I knew would delight him. There was always another long dull banquet being held, a banquet at which the king by law and by custom must drink the king’s wine. Ahasuerus hated the king’s wine, which had spices and poppy mixed into it; he disliked its sharp strong flavor and its deadening of the senses.

  So when I told him I had a suggestion to shorten and enliven the next banquet, Ahasuerus listened to me—and laughed as he used to when we both were children, and agreed that my plan was good. And embellished upon it—I had thought only of the mice.

  So began the mischief that led to all that came after. At the next banquet—one honoring I forget whom—I stood behind Ahasuerus’s chair, dressed in the wine-red tunic and trousers worn by the royal cupbearers. My hair was braided around my head and hidden by a turban, and no one noticed me—or so I thought. At my feet half a dozen large gilded reed baskets waited, seeming to tremble with eagerness.

  I eagerly awaited Ahasuerus’s signal—but he seemed to pause, to slide a sidelong glance at me, and then at the baskets. He shook his head slightly, and seemed about to speak when Prince Shethar filled the king’s gold wine-cup.

  “My lord king, will you not lead us in wine?” Shethar asked.

  Ahasuerus hesitated; he disliked the traditional king’s wine, but no one else could drink if he did not. Prince Shethar lifted the full wine-cup and offered it to Ahasuerus … who took the wine-cup and, after staring for a moment into its depths, drank. Deeply. A tremor shuddered through him, but he emptied the wine-cup.

  A sigh of relief seemed to sweep the banquet hall as the guests began to drink. Ahasuerus set his wine-cup down and glanced at Prince Shethar, who took this as a command to refill the king’s wine-cup. Ahasuerus stood, lifting his wine-cup high. He glanced and me and smiled and nodded, and I bent and flung open the baskets.

  A horde of field mice promptly fled through the banquet hall, swiftly followed by half a dozen ferrets. Dozens of mice ran over the guests’ feet, swarmed up onto the tables, scurried through the carefully cooked dishes of lamb, rice, and fish. Close on the mice’s tails followed the ferrets, intent on their prey. Both prey and predator slipped in the rich sauces, slid across the tables, sometimes into the guests’ laps.

  Ahasuerus and I laughed so hard we never noticed we were the only ones amused. No, that is wrong. Prince Shethar watched the havoc and smiled rather grimly. Later, when we regaled her with the tale, Queen Mother Amestris laughed and hugged us both, saying we brought joy to a gloomy court.

  But later still, when I wrapped my arms around Hegai and told him what Ahasuerus and I had done, he did not laugh. He did not even smile.

  “O queen, such a trick is suited to a child, not a woman,” was all he said.

  “Everyone laughed,” I insisted.

  “Did they?” Hegai stroked my hair. “Well, perhaps they did. It is wise to laugh when the king laughs. Come, let me ready you for bed, my queen.”

  * * *

  I swiftly forgot the mouse banquet. It was only one among many such tricks Ahasuerus and I had often played upon the court, tricks the Queen Mother laughed at and encouraged.

  But as Hegai knew, Ahasuerus and I were far too old for such childish games. The night we set mice and ferrets free in the banquet hall, I was almost eighteen years old, and Ahasuerus nearly twenty-three. We were no longer children.

  The Queen Mother might laugh, but the Seven Princes did not. The Seven began to meet in secret. They did not speak treason—not yet—but they had been provoked beyond enduring by the childish actions of a king who should long since have been leading the Immortals to war.

  The Seven could not rid themselves of Ahasuerus; indeed, the thought of ridding themselves of the King of Kings was too far for their thoughts to stretch. Nor did they dare challenge Queen Mother Amestris’s fierce influence over her son.

  But there was one person they could free the court from.

  Me.

  It remained only for the Seven Princes to decide how best to remove me, and then to set a queen of their own choosing in my place. One with womanly virtues; one who would give the king heirs. One who would stay where she belonged: behind the high gilded walls of the Queen’s Palace.

  Although I knew nothing of their plotting, in the end I made the path smooth and easy for them. Or say, rather, that Queen Mother Amestris did. For what was I but the eternal child she had so carefully created?

  * * *

  After the banquet of the mice, Ahasuerus changed. He still treated me fondly, but I sensed a withdrawal, a subtle difference in the manner in which he regarded me. He no longer wished to hear plans for pranks to play upon the court, nor did he invite me to dress as a boy and ride with him any longer.

  “I’ve ridden out with him hundreds of times. I ride as well as he does! Better! He even said I shouldn’t leave the palace at all unless I’m carried in a litter,” I complained one evening as Hegai combed out my hair.

  “I hope you didn’t say that to the King of Kings.” Hegai’s placid voice irritated me; I twisted and caught his wrist, stopping the steady motion of the sandalwood comb through my hair.

  “Well, of course I did. Why shouldn’t I? Why is Ahasuerus being so—so difficult? Don’t you think he’s acting very oddly?”

  “No, my queen, I don’t.”

  Startled, I waited for him to say more. But although he hesitated, as if about to speak again, Hegai remained silent. For long moments he seemed to study my face, his long dark eyes intent. Then he bent and kissed my forehead, and gently resumed the task of combing out my long pale hair.

  HEGAI

  The last jest the king and queen ever played together began innocently enough. Even cleverly enough. But by its end, the king was angry and the queen indignant; the disaster to come began because of—what else?—Vashti’s ivory hair.

  “Hegai!”
Vashti’s voice rang against the cool tiles of my courtyard. She dashed up to me and spun around before me, her braided hair swinging against the backs of her thighs. “Do you like it?”

  Smiling, I studied her as she spun around; layers of bright silk skirts floated about her and golden bells rang from her braids and ankles. She looked like a bazaar dancer. A very, very wealthy bazaar dancer. “I cannot say, O queen, until I know whether you truly mean to toss away your crown and dance in the marketplace for your bread, or—”

  Vashti laughed and tucked her hand into the curve of my elbow. “Oh, Hegai, you are a beast,” she said cheerfully. “Say you like it, for this time Ahasuerus thinks my idea a great jest, and wagers that I will be instantly recognized. What shall I ask of him, when I win?”

  “Whatsoever pleases you, of course, even unto half of his kingdom.” I reached out to touch her braided and belled hair, halted just before my fingertips touched its ivory silk strands. “Tell me, how did you persuade the king—”

  “—to play this trick?” Vashti opened her opal eyes very wide. “Why, I asked him, of course! Truly, Hegai, Ahasuerus thought it clever.”

  I wondered if King Ahasuerus had been drinking wine before Vashti proposed this prank. The king had no head for wine. I sighed. “How many dancers?”

  “Oh, as many as I like. A dozen?”

  “All dressed just as you are?” Instantly I saw the flaw in Vashti’s plan, a fortunate flaw that would end this scheme before it began. “O queen,” I began, but she did not hear as she twirled around me, skirts flying and ankle bells chiming.

  “Yes, all dressed just as I am. Isn’t it the best of tricks to play upon those stuffy princes?”

  You are too old to play such pranks, my love. And Ahasuerus was far too old to be laughing at such behavior, let alone encouraging it. Dancing before all the world at a formal banquet—

  “You have forgotten something, my queen,” I said; Vashti spun to halt in front of me, silk skirts flowing around her like clouds.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Your hair, my queen. You cannot hope to hide it.” Half a dozen ways to do so instantly came to my mind—but I had no intention of helping Vashti to such scandalous behavior. “But the king will win unless you hide your hair, my queen.”