Game of Queens

by India Edghill

  “So you say, Haman, but I can think of a dozen dozen difficulties.”

  “Then I humbly petition and request that the king permit me to assume this burden. Or better still…” Haman’s gaze slid round to me.

  Oh, no. But I did not speak swiftly enough.

  “Better still, permit me to lay the matter in the hands of one who knows you better than you know yourself.” Haman bowed, nicely managing to seem to honor both Ahasuerus and me. “Who better to choose a queen than one who has been a queen herself?”

  Almost anyone else! I thought I shouted the words, but they did not pass my lips. I stared as if struck dumb. Choose the new queen? Me? Is Haman mad? I turned to Ahasuerus, who smiled at me as if he’d just been given the finest gift in all the world.

  “How clever!” Ahasuerus laid his hand on Haman’s shoulder. “Is he not the best of friends and advisors, Vashti?”

  I could think of nothing at all to say—at least, nothing that would have been acceptable. Taking my silence as assent, Ahasuerus continued happily, “We all know I must choose a new queen—”

  “And it cannot be me. There can be no trickery, no setting the crown back on my head.” I spoke in more haste than was flattering, but fortunately Ahasuerus, caught up in Haman’s grand design, didn’t notice.

  “You’re right, Vashti. I am sorry, but you can never again be my queen.”

  “Of course not, and of course I understand. But my lord Haman’s idea—”

  “If I may speak?” Haman bowed again, glanced up at me through his lashes, a beast seeking prey. “If my idea finds some small merit in the eyes of the King of Kings, I am content. Of course I know nothing of choosing women fit for a king’s palace, but I know that Princess Vashti was chosen by the Queen Mother herself. And so I ask again: who better to undertake the task of selecting a new queen to delight the king?”

  About to decline this dubious honor, I hesitated. Chosen by the Queen Mother—What would Amestris think of Haman’s plan? Doubtless she thinks to once again pick out a queen for her son, another girl she can train up as a biddable puppet.

  I heard again Amestris castigating me for acting without consulting her. The words foolish girl echoed, silent, in my mind. Such small words, to invoke so great a decision.

  “If it please the king,” I said, “give me the right to command this in your name, and I will undertake the task my lord Haman has set before you.”

  And that is how it came to pass that Vashti, queen no longer, was charged with selecting the next Queen of Queens.

  * * *

  Fearing the Queen Mother’s talent for getting her own way, I suggested that the edict decreeing an empire-wide search for a new queen be drawn up at once. “Surely the three of us can write up such an edict?” I made myself sound doubtful, and added cunningly, “Perhaps we should ask the advice of the Queen Mother and the Seven Princes before embarking upon this venture?”

  I could see Ahasuerus’s distaste for the idea of asking the Seven—the men who had made him look so foolish before all the empire—for any advice whatsoever. And I had coupled Amestris’s name with the Seven, so Ahasuerus rejected her counsel as well.

  “I am quite capable of making a decision without my mother’s approval,” he said. I could only wish he’d been as firm of purpose before I had been stripped of my crown. “What do you think, Haman? Shall we draft the edict now?”

  Haman stroked his beard; I could almost hear his thoughts. Agree with the king? Always politic. But if the king later doubted the rightness of his acts? Perhaps it would be wiser to equivocate …

  “Oh, come, Haman—Vashti, who is only a woman, answered at once. Surely you’re a man who can make up his own mind?” Ahasuerus sounded half amused—and half angry.

  Forced to answer, Haman began by flattering me. “To say that my lady Vashti is only a woman is to do her less than justice. And may I suggest, my king, that some special rank or title be given her? For no one—”

  “No one knows what to call me, and so they all mumble gibberish with my name the only clear word!” I smiled at Haman, for once approving of him. And this digression on my proper station would give Haman a few moments’ grace to think of a good answer to Ahasuerus’s demand for an instant edict.

  “A special rank, a special title—yes, that is an excellent notion.” Ahasuerus nodded, gravely approving. “But what? She cannot be a queen.”

  “I am still a princess of Babylon,” I pointed out. “And—and your dearest sister. Will that suffice?”

  Ahasuerus considered this, then smiled. “Princess Vashti, the King’s Sister. It sounds fitting and pleasing. We must set that down in the edicts.”

  “It shall be done, my king.” But if Haman hoped to elude further questioning on the contest for the queen’s crown, he was disappointed. Ahasuerus had been only briefly distracted by the question of my new title.

  “I can always rely on you, Haman—and on you, Vashti.” Ahasuerus rose to his feet, so Haman and I must also stand. “And so I lay the matter of a new queen in your hands. Do as seems good to you.”

  With that casual command given, Ahasuerus picked up a slice of the spiced honey-cake and bit into it. “This is excellent, Vashti. Now I will walk in your garden so my beloved sister and my good counselor may freely discuss my next wife.”

  Haman and I were left staring at each other as the servants waited for another command. Beyond the archway into my garden, Ahasuerus bent to inspect a rose.

  “I lay this matter at your feet, my lady princess.” Haman’s black eyes glinted with anger—whether at himself or at the king, or even at me, I could not tell.

  “I take it up into my hands, for the king has asked it of me. And do not glare at me like that, my lord prince. This contest for queen was your idea, not mine.”

  He bowed, a little too low, a little too obsequious. “As my lady princess says. And if my lady princess requires any aid—any assistance whatsoever—in this delicate matter, may I suggest my wife might be of assistance?”

  “My thanks, Prince Haman, but I chose his concubines before. Why not his next queen?”

  I had the pleasure of seeing Haman, for once, at a loss for a tactful reply.

  * * *

  Hegai didn’t bother with tact when I revealed the plan to him. “Haman suggests an outrageous notion, and the king nods, and then—chaos!” Hegai shook his head. “Every maiden in the kingdom will be standing at the palace gate before the next new moon!”

  “Every heart-free maiden.” I sighed. “Well, it is done now, and we shall have to organize this—this virgin market.”

  “Who else?” For once, Hegai permitted himself to sound both resigned and bitter.

  Who else? I put my arms around him and rested my head against his chest. And how?

  “We can start with the provinces,” I said, unsure what next to say. Never before had I actually organized anything, not even so much as a meal. All I had had to do was say, “Prepare a feast,” and it was done. Never once had I thought of all the work that went into creating anything—let alone a new Queen of Persia.

  “One hundred and twenty-seven maidens for the king to chose from?” Hegai sounded as doubtful as I felt.

  “Too many. But each girl must have her fair chance.” For a moment I stared past Hegai, into the Queen’s Courtyard. A new queen meant the Queen’s Palace, the Queen’s Courtyard, would no longer be mine … I shivered; Hegai stroked my hair.

  “My princess? Are you unwell?”

  I shook my head. “No. No. I was just thinking…” Should I tell Hegai my true thoughts? No, I would not burden him with my foolishness. “I was just thinking you are right. Who else but you and I can do this task?”

  “This outrageous task,” Hegai corrected, and I looked up at him and smiled, as I knew he’d hoped I would.

  “Come,” I said, and slid my arm through his.

  “Where are we going?” he asked, and I smiled again.

  “Where else? To Daniel.”

 
* * *

  Daniel and his wife were among those who treated me no differently now than they had when I was queen. They seemed unsurprised that I should come to them asking their aid.

  “I have no idea how to even begin to find a new queen.” I sat cross-legged at Daniel’s feet; I gazed hopefully up at him. “Tell me what to do, Dream-Master.”

  “Well,” said Daniel, “first you tell me what you think you need to do, Vashti.”

  I stared at my hands, thinking hard. “I must find one maiden from each of the provinces and bring her here to Shushan and present her to the king and—”

  “Where will they stay, these maidens?” Samamat asked. “And who will judge them?”

  The answer to the first question was easy. “They will stay in the Women’s Palace,” I said, relieved at being able to answer without hesitation.

  “And how will they be selected, and who will judge them?” Samamat said, and these questions closed my mouth again. Ahasuerus ruled over one hundred and twenty-seven provinces, so there must be one hundred and twenty-seven candidates for the queen’s crown. It seemed a vast number—but there were thousands of beautiful maidens in the empire. How to choose only one hundred and twenty-seven of them?

  I remembered how I had been chosen: a woman I had never seen had come and ordered that I should be queen. My wishes, my dreams, had possessed no weight, no value. This time it will be different.

  “The girls themselves with choose whether they wish to enter the contest,” I said, and Samamat smiled.

  “Others may force them to enter,” she pointed out, and Daniel laid his hand over hers.

  “You can’t control everything, Sama,” he said, and then he, too, smiled at me. “It’s like Vashti to consider the wishes of the candidates themselves.”

  Exhilaration burned beneath my skin. I had pleased both Daniel Dream-Master and Samamat. Encouraged, I went on, “And the girls from the farthest provinces will have the longest journeys to Shushan. They should be chosen first, so that all the maidens arrive within the same month.”

  “An excellent idea,” Daniel said. “So each province will send a candidate for queen?”

  “That is only fair,” I said, and then realized I had overlooked a vital point. “But there is something more important than the number of candidates.”

  “And what is that?” Daniel asked.

  “That,” I said grimly, “is how we are to chose the judges who will select the girls.”

  “All one hundred and twenty-seven of them,” Samamat added helpfully.

  “That is indeed a problem.” Daniel seemed to consider the matter, then said, “Do you think each province should also choose its own judges?”

  That sounded only just and fair—but I hesitated. “If each province chooses its own judges, perhaps they will not be impartial?”

  “Only perhaps?” Samamat said, sounding so incredulous that I laughed.

  “Hegai knows what pleases the king,” I said. “Hegai can select the judges.”

  “Fortunate Hegai,” Daniel said, and smiled.

  * * *

  “The king will choose a queen from among all the maidens of the empire. All the virgins who dwell in the lands of Persia are entitled to pass before the king, that he may make his choice.”

  Haman had sent out the proclamation without consulting me—more drastically, with consulting Queen Mother Amestris. When we learned of it, Hegai warned me to say nothing, as if I had expected Haman to do so. I did as Hegai advised and held my tongue. Amestris said enough for both of us, and only Ahasuerus telling his mother that he had granted Haman permission for such a proclamation silenced her.

  I think Ahasuerus was as surprised as I by the proclamation, but it no longer mattered. For the proclamation engendered wild excitement—and a wave of ambition flowed like poisoned honey over the lands Ahasuerus ruled.

  * * *

  I knew it would take many weeks before all the chosen maidens entered the Women’s Palace. I only hoped that would be time enough to arrange the palace to accommodate them. Usually only one or two new women entered the palace at a time, and that not often. Ahasuerus did not keep a large harem—not for a King of Kings.

  “So we must decide where the girls will live, and what they will wear. A hundred and twenty-seven maidens, Hegai! What are we going to do?”

  Hegai smiled, calm as a cat. “We will manage beautifully, my clever one. I always do.”

  He was so confident that I laughed. “If you say so, Ruler of the Harem, then I must believe. But where do we start?”

  “By walking through every corridor and chamber in the Women’s Palace, and seeing for ourselves what must be done. There is enough space for three times the women who now dwell here.”

  So that is what we did. Hegai and I explored every courtyard and garden, every sleeping chamber and balcony. We studied the baths, examined the kitchens and the storerooms. I found myself listening to lists of how much bread would need to be baked, how many fish caught, how many sheep and goats and pigeons butchered. I looked at bolts of cloth high-piled in storage rooms. Never before had I truly understood that a palace required more than gold and silks and polished marble halls.

  Never before had I understood how much work was required to make so vast an undertaking as the search for a new queen run smooth.

  “I suppose this is what it is like to organize an army on the march,” I said to Hegai, after we had spent an hour discussing how many girls could share a bedchamber, and whether each girl truly needed a eunuch devoted to her needs alone. “This is a nightmare, Hegai.”

  He smiled. “Yes, my lady princess, it is. But it is a nightmare from which we will someday awake.” He paused, as if carefully weighing his next words. “My lady princess—you do realize that the new queen will owe you a great deal?”

  I set down the list of names I had been studying. The palace employed a great many eunuchs; I was amazed to learn just how many. “Yes, Hegai, I realize that. But will she?”

  “Make sure that she does,” Hegai advised. “Now, what are we to do with the girls whom the King of Kings, may he live forever, does not choose?”

  “All one hundred and twenty-six of them.” I sighed and rubbed my temples. “Well, they will not go home disgraced. Not if they may take whatever they choose of their ornaments, and the king’s favor for their families.”

  “Not all will wish to leave, even if they are not chosen as queen,” Hegai said.

  “Well, then they may remain as—as concubines.” I knew those who did so might only see the king one night a year. But if it pleased them better to remain in the King’s Palace than to return home, why should they not? “Ahasuerus is King of Half the World,” I said. “Surely his palace can support a hundred new concubines.”

  * * *

  The wave of enthusiasm for this manner of selecting a new queen astonished me—but even I found the contest for queen exciting, for it was mine. Never before had a serious task been set into my hands. The more I labored at this incredible, bewildering responsibility, the more I delighted in the work. I sat long hours with Hegai, poring over maps of Ahasuerus’s empire, making lists of the peoples who lived within the empire’s borders, estimating the time it would take for each province to select its candidate and for her to reach Shushan.

  “They cannot all arrive at once.” I stared at the map, trying to make all the routes to Shushan miraculously become of equal length.

  “Perhaps that is just as well,” Hegai said.

  I waited, but he merely looked back at me. I knew this gambit; Hegai wished me to find the answer myself. A surge of warmth swept through me, pleasure at his faith in me. Hegai never laughed at my attempts to be more than a pretty, silly girl.

  “If all the candidates arrive at the same time—with all their attendants—it will be chaos.” I tried to think like a maiden from Issus, come a month’s journey to the King’s Palace. Only one can become queen. What will the others have? “And the girls should have their chance to b
e carried through Shushan in triumph,” I said, and Hegai smiled.

  “It will be a great honor simply to be one of those chosen to come to the king,” he agreed.

  “So,” I said, leaning past him and setting my finger upon Issus, and wondering what it would be like to live in a palace that looked out upon the sea, “the farther away the satrapy is from Shushan, the earlier they should select their candidate and set her upon her journey.”

  “That course has much to recommend it,” he said. I felt his fingers upon my hair, leaned into his touch. For a heartbeat we stood there, close; suddenly I wondered what I would do, if I did not have Hegai. I could not even imagine such a loss.

  Then I remembered I was supposed to be organizing the search for Ahasuerus’s next queen, not worrying over impossibilities. I straightened and continued my attempt to ensure the contest ran smoothly. If some girls arrived many weeks before the others …

  “What will the maidens do during the time we await those coming from the farther satrapies?” I asked, and this time Hegai answered me.

  “Prepare to meet the king,” he said. “What else?”

  * * *

  By the end of a month, the judges had been selected and sent out from Shushan to all the provinces of the empire. Hegai had decided that he would be one of the judges in Shushan itself. I thought this wise; who knew better than Hegai what would please Ahasuerus in a woman?

  The rules for the contest were mine, and I had struggled long hours creating them. In the end, I abandoned lengthy, elaborate protocols in favor of seven simple, clear sentences. Each of the judges carried a written set of these rules that anyone might read, or have read to them.

  Any maiden in the empire between the ages of fourteen and twenty may put her name into the contest. She must do so herself. No one else may set her name into the contest. No one may force her to enter her name, or prevent her from doing so. The judges will consider each maiden who wishes to come before the king and decide upon she who will represent each province.

  King Ahasuerus will choose his queen from the candidates sent to the palace at Shushan. The maidens he does not choose may themselves choose to remain in the King’s Palace or return to their homes in all honor.