Game of Queens

by India Edghill

  So I had failed to win free and now must accept my fate with either grace and courage, or wailing and weeping. I refuse to snivel, I told myself, and felt the uncanny terror fade. I stood straight and spoke calmly. “Esther,” I said, and saw amusement light Hegai’s eyes. Did you expect me to forget the name I have been forced to give you? Well, Hegai, you are no fool—but neither am I.

  “Write down the name Esther of Shushan,” Hegai said. “Now, Esther, you may ask for three things to take with you to the palace. Anything you wish.”

  “Anything?”

  “Anything in all the kingdom.”

  “Then I ask for a gown to cover myself, and Kylah for my handmaiden.” I wonder what most of the chosen maidens demand?

  “And the third thing you ask to take with you to the palace?”

  “Your friendship.” Ah, that took the bland composure from your face, Hegai! “You said ‘anything in the kingdom,’” I added.

  “If those are the three things you ask for, those are what you shall receive.” Hegai made no sign that I could see, yet Kylah moved toward me and bowed.

  “Come with me, mistress.” Kylah led me out of the large pavilion through a tunnel of crimson cloth into a shadowed, smaller tent. There I stood and waited as she opened a long chest and lifted out garments. “What will you have, mistress?” she asked, and I smiled; I knew this game.

  “You choose what I should wear now.” That will show Kylah that I trust her judgment—and that I am not fool enough to think I know what is proper in the palace simply because I now compete for the queen’s crown.

  I thought I saw her smile; we both openly studied each other, judging the value of our new alliance. “Do not be too trusting, mistress.”

  “Hegai gave you to me,” I said, “and it is to your advantage that my garments make me pleasing to the eye. Once you’ve chosen your horse, it is best to stay on its back until the race ends.”

  Kylah stared at me, apparently baffled by such plain words. Then she laughed, softly, and began the task of garbing me for my short journey to the palace. She chose well: a green silk gown heavy as cream, a long vest of cloth-of-silver sewn with silver pomegranates. She combed my hair into a neatness I never quite achieved myself. Against the cloth-of-silver, my hair burned like dark fire.

  “Very nice,” I said, and Kylah smiled.

  “Thank you, my lady Esther.” Not for her the vainly humble protest; clearly Kylah knew her own talents. I noted, too, that I had become “my lady Esther” rather than “mistress.”

  Yes, I thought she and I would work well together.

  * * *

  I was carried to the palace in a gilded litter, hidden behind curtains of blue-and-white-striped silk. I had hoped to watch as I was carried up the Great Staircase to the King’s Gate, but that was not permitted.

  “You are the king’s now,” Kylah told me. My new-won handmaiden sat curled at the other end of the litter, looking pleased with herself. “No man may set eyes upon you, save the king.”

  “Is that why he summoned Queen Vashti to come before him at a men’s banquet?” I asked, and heard a small gasp.

  “No one—” Kylah began, and I smiled.

  “No one will say what everyone knows? Why not?”

  “Because it is not—safe. You are going where you may trust very few, and it is never wise to speak too freely.”

  “But you are my handmaiden, Kylah. May I not trust you?” I saw she knew there was no good answer to this.

  “I will not willingly betray you,” she said, “but how can you know I am speaking truth to you?”

  “If you are not, and I cannot trust you,” I said, “I would rather know it at first—than at last.”

  For long moments Kylah stared at me. Then she smiled. “I am glad you asked for me as your handmaiden, O Star of Wisdom. Truly, you are worthy to be queen.”

  “Perhaps I am. But truly—I would rather I were thought worthy to decide my own future.”

  Even clever Kylah did not know what to say in answer to that. Neither of us said another word, but our silence lay peacefully between us. We waited as we were carried up and up, the bearers climbing the long flights of the Great Staircase steadily, smoothly, so that the litter only rocked gently from time to time until we reached the top, and the palace of the King of Kings.

  * * *

  I knew when we passed between the huge winged bulls that guarded the entrance to the palace, for I heard a man ask what business this litter had within the courts of the King of Kings, and the reply of the eunuch who escorted me. “These curtains veil a gem for the king’s delight.” The eunuch sounded rather smug, as if my beauty were somehow his achievement.

  “Enter, and may Ahura Mazda smile upon what you bring to the king.” The guard’s words were solemn, measured; as the litter moved forward my keen ears overheard the man mutter, “Another—how long until…”

  Then the gate and guard were behind me, and I considered his exasperated comment. “Another—how long until…” How long until this contest ends? How long until the king chooses the new queen? Yes, that fits. If the king truly is to judge among as many maidens as he rules provinces, it could take months.

  And just how was the king to make his choice? Would we all stand in a line, and he walk along, gazing upon us? Would he sit in state as we all paraded before his throne? Would he call for us one by one, night after night, until he at last found a woman who made his heart happy?

  “My lady?” Kylah’s soft voice interrupted my consideration of the logistics of this grand scheme. “We are within the Women’s Palace now.”

  Now it begins—no, it began when I let my name fall into the basket. I chose my horse; now I must ride it.

  I stepped out into my new world.

  * * *

  The palace was a maze; a labyrinth of gardens and dwellings; columned halls and bright balconies. Pillars of sardonyx, pillars of marble in every color of earth and sky. Statues of winged beasts with men’s faces. Ceilings set with silver and gold stars mapping the heavens. Walls inlaid with turquoise and ivory, mother-of-pearl and malachite. Later I learned the palace held darkness, too, but at first all seemed brilliance and light. Some never saw past the veil of bright illusion to the shadows beyond.

  I was shown into rooms so luxurious that for a moment I thought I had been given the queen’s apartments by mistake. A bed wide enough for three people; silver tables; bright silk rugs blossoming beneath my feet. I went to a tall narrow window; I looked out and could see rooftops, and sky.

  Later, I learned that Hegai had given me rooms far beyond anything I was entitled to as one of the candidates for queen. But that first day, I knew only that I now played an exhilarating game. I turned away from the window and went to stretch out upon the wide bed. I ran my hand over the embroidered rug covering the bed. My fingers touched hard beads; when I looked, I saw that the covering was stitched with pearls.

  Pearls were all very well, but I hoped I would be permitted books. I could not read pearls. And all I had to do—all I could do—was wait.

  Wait until the moment I would learn if I pleased the king.

  HEGAI

  I knew she was the new queen the moment she smiled. She walked calmly into the pavilion and stood quietly as the maids removed her garments. She blushed, but neither protested nor flaunted herself. She was beautiful, of course, but I barely noticed her body, for when she smiled light seemed to halo her, its radiance brilliant as winter stars.

  After considering the matter, examining her words and reactions, I knew what had so impressed me—and it was not her astonishing beauty. No, it was her calm assessment of her own worth. She knew she was beautiful, and she knew, too, that she could not take credit for her perfection of face and form.

  Light—she must be sent by the Good God, a light to triumph over darkness.

  The examination was a formality only, for even had her place in the contest not already been bought, Esther would have been chosen as Shushan’s candidate.
She was beautiful as a goddess is beautiful, a perfect balance of the carnal and the pure. I sought a word to describe her …

  … and at last, to my surprise, I settled upon “judgment.”

  VASHTI

  “My lady Vashti?” Hegai interrupted me as I was trailing a peacock feather in the fountain pond, enticing the golden fish to dart at the brilliant blue-green lure. At Hegai’s words, I paused and turned my head.

  “Yes, Hegai?”

  “I do not wish to interrupt my lady’s pleasures…”

  I laughed. “You are the most dreadful liar, Hegai; you interrupt my pleasures any time you deem fit. And as you see, I am engaged in the most important matter of my day.” I laid the peacock feather on the fountain’s rim. “Tell me you require me to do something more interesting than teasing fish!”

  “I do, my lady. The harem gate has closed behind the last of the king’s maidens. The girl from Shushan.”

  I jumped to my feet. “They’re all here? At last? Well, we had best go inspect them. Come on.”

  Hegai caught my arm. “Wait. I will send word and have them all—”

  “Overdressed and overpainted and overawed because they know the Chief Eunuch and Vashti the Wicked come to judge them? No, let’s go see them as they are. Where are they?”

  “They all walk in the Garden of Roses. That and the queen’s banquet hall are the only places in the Women’s Palace that will hold all of them at one time.”

  “Then you and I shall go up to the balcony that looks upon that garden and watch them all. One hundred and twenty-six maidens!” Of course there were several hundred inhabitants of the Women’s Palace, but most of them were slaves and servants. Only a hundred concubines dwelt there, and they had not all arrived in one large group.

  Time had pressed hard. Beautiful maidens to parade before the king meant servants to tend upon them: handmaidens, yes, at least three for each girl. And that was not all, for I discovered the Women’s Palace would need more cooks, more bath slaves, more, in fact, of every kind of servant that kept the palace in order and its inhabitants happy.

  Once we set the search in motion, it had taken surprisingly few months to select the maidens and transport them to the great palace of Shushan. Obstacles I thought nearly insurmountable had been tossed aside like chaff by everyone from governors of provinces to slave girls in the kitchen.

  Oddly, this mass offering of helpfulness did not depend upon a city, or a family, having a girl fit to send for the king’s choice. The contest had kindled the empire’s imagination. Everyone wished, even in some small way, to be a part of so grand a scheme.

  And now, at last, it was time to look upon the prizes we would set before the king—and see the next queen.

  * * *

  I rarely concealed my hair, but before Hegai and I went to the Garden of Roses, I chose a dark veil and arranged it so that my hair was hidden. I could not learn anything useful about the girls if they knew who I was. Hegai and I had spent long hours talking over what qualities the next queen should have. The ability to flatter the influential was not among them.

  I do not know why, out of all the girls gathered in the Garden of Roses, it was the maiden Esther who caught my eye. She was not the most vivid, nor the most vivacious. There was no maiden here who was anything less than exquisite. Perhaps the color of her hair set her apart—the color of banked coals; fire in darkness, slow burning under the warm sun.

  Then I realized her pride drew my eyes to her. The amber-eyed girl carried herself like a warrior.…

  For a breath I wondered why I thought of her as a warrior, rather than a queen. Then I decided it didn’t matter.

  “Ah, you, too, see the future in her.” Hegai leaned forward, his shoulder brushing mine. “That one holds much promise, my lady princess.”

  “You like her.” I turned to look at Hegai. “Tell me.”

  “You tell me,” he said, and I studied the girl with the dark-fire hair, seeking Hegai’s answer.

  She spoke to her rivals as if they were her friends. She took the time to smile at the servants, and to seem to ask, rather than command. Although a stranger to the palace, she seemed at ease, without seeming foolishly overconfident.

  And she troubled herself to come over to me, and to speak to me. She must have thought I, too, had been brought here to compete for the queen’s crown; that I was only another girl like herself, hopeful and uncertain of the future.

  She walked up to me, her movement graceful and deliberate; she glanced at Hegai before smiling at me. “Welcome to our garden. You see how we are treated here—all of us pampered like queens.”

  Dark hair, tranquil voice, clever eyes. Totally unlike me; good. The last thing a man with a guilt-ridden heart needed was a new bride who resembled the one he had cast aside.

  “I am glad to hear that,” I said. “And I am glad you chose to come here.”

  She gazed back at me, her amber eyes cool as river water. “I was chosen to come here; I did not choose to come.”

  “How often in her life does a woman truly have the power to choose? What is your name?”

  For less the time it takes to draw in breath, she hesitated. No one not palace-born and bred would have noticed. I did. Whatever the girl was about to say would be a lie.

  “Esther. Esther of Shushan.” Her gaze flickered to the left as she spoke. Esther was not her true name, then. The question I must answer now was whether the lie mattered.

  “And tell me, Esther of Shushan, how you were chosen to grace the king’s harem? It is not an easy thing, to get a maiden’s name upon the Queen’s List.”

  For a long moment she gazed into my eyes. Then she shrugged, a movement supple as a dancer’s. “Rubies. My place upon the Queen’s List was bought with a dozen rubies, each as large as a dove’s heart and red as that heart’s blood. How do you think most girls had their names inscribed upon that list? For their golden hair?”

  “Apparently,” I said, “it was for their golden coins.”

  Startled, she stared at me again, and then laughed. “You speak truth. Who are you? My guardian—he who paid to have me brought here for the chance to wear the queen’s crown—ordered me to make friends of everyone. So tell me your name, and I will be your friend if you will be mine.”

  Laughter danced beneath her solemn words; gleamed in her eyes like sun-spangles upon water. I smiled, and pushed back the veil hiding my hair.

  “My name is Vashti, and until I refused to obey my husband’s command, I wore the crown King Ahasuerus will offer to one of those upon the Queen’s List. Do you still wish to be my friend—Esther?”

  She looked at Hegai again, then glanced down, veiling her clever eyes with her thick lashes. “You are still here, Queen Vashti. That tells me much.”

  Yes, clever as well as pretty. Now to test her courage. “And if I say I shall have you taken from this court and set outside the palace gate? That you shall be sent home to your father untouched by the king?”

  She raised her head, lifted her chin. “I have no father,” she said.

  “That is not what I asked.”

  “No, it is not. But what you asked needs no answer, for you will not do it, even if you have the power to command it.” Clear amber eyes gazed into mine. “For I think the next queen will be chosen by you.”

  “And why do you say that, you whose name is not truly Esther?” I noted that she did not ask how I knew that. “How were you called by your mother?”

  “My mother died bearing me. My father called me Hadassah. But—”

  “But your guardian thought it too Jewish a name, and so now you are called star, for your bright eyes. Oh, don’t look so surprised—Mordecai is one of the palace’s chief scribes. Do you think a queen does not know all that passes within palace walls?” Even if she were too foolish to pay much attention to the knowledge that flowed past her, as I had once been.

  “I think—too much, I am now told.” Her voice held bitterness; clearly once her learning had been prized
and now was scorned.

  “Shall we then call you Hadassah?” I asked, hoping to please her. Already I liked seeing her smile; I soon learned most people wished to enjoy Esther’s smiles.

  She shook her head. “No. My guardian commanded me to forget that name, and of course I must obey him. Esther will do.” Then she answered a question I had almost forgotten I had asked as we talked of her names.

  “As for why I say you will choose the next queen—well, that is a guess. But why else should you come among all of us who vie for the crown, asking questions and judging our quality? And who else knows so well as you what will please the king?” She paused, added, “So I will tell you at once that I have unmaidenly talents. I can read Sumerian and Aramaic. I was raised on a horse farm in the Karoun Valley and could ride better than any man who worked for my father, and I can keep accounts as well as any clerk. I can play the harp and write poems in the style of Hiralal of Hind. I can also weave and bake, although I do neither well.”

  I stared at her, then laughed. “Well, those are far more than I have. I can—” Suddenly I stopped, for I could not think of one talent I could claim. I can sit and look beautiful. I can display my ivory hair. That was all I had; hot blood burned my cheeks.

  I thought I saw understanding and compassion in Esther’s eyes. Perhaps that is why I heard myself saying, “I cannot do anything, Esther. I can’t do anything at all.”

  ESTHER

  I never expected to feel sorry for Queen Vashti—but as I heard her confess herself ignorant of any useful—or even useless—skill, I found myself longing to put my arms around her and comfort her. I did not quite dare, so I tried to make her smile.

  “Perhaps you are wiser than I, then. It might be better if I could not do anything at all.”

  “But you can read Sumerian and Aramaic and—”

  “And who,” I asked, “will wish to wed a maiden who can read Sumerian and Aramaic, and write poems in the style of Hind?”

  To my surprise—although why I should be surprised at anything a woman who had refused a king’s command might say, I do not know—Vashti spoke words I remembered always.