“My lady Vashti, will you never learn caution?” was Hegai’s first response. And when I pointed out that he himself had suggested it might be wise to learn how Esther would regard the king, Hegai sighed.
“Yes, and I—that is, you and I would have arranged something together. Something safe and secret.”
“It was safe and secret,” I said. “And—oh, Hegai, her face glowed like a star, and her voice sounded like—like poured honey.”
“Sticky,” Hegai said, and I laughed.
“Oh, Hegai, you know I have no gift for clever words. Esther does. But do you think it will please Ahasuerus, that she already loves him so greatly? He never liked me clinging to him, you know.”
Hegai frowned, considering. “Let us examine this matter. The maiden Esther is beautiful and virtuous, learned and witty—and she has fallen into love with the man, and not the king, as a pearl falls into a pure well.” The thick black lines of kohl stretching past his dark eyes curled up as his face creased in a wide smile. “I believe it just possible, my lady Vashti, that the King of Kings will like her to cling to him.”
For a heartbeat anger bit sharp; I shoved the unworthy emotion away, scolding myself. No envy, no sighing over the past. There was never love like that between us. Free him and yourself. All that matters now is the future, and Ahasuerus’s happiness.
* * *
I had chosen Esther, and now it seemed Esther herself had chosen as well. Now it was time to unfold her future before her.
Yet somehow the moment never seemed quite right. At last, one day when the two of us walked together in my garden, I simply said, “Esther, you are going to be queen.”
Esther stopped walking. “Vashti, you cannot know that.”
“Yes,” I said, “I can. Because it is what I want, and what Hegai wants, and—”
“But is it what King Ahasuerus will want?” Esther looked—angry.
“Oh, Esther, of course it is! You are perfect. You—”
“I will not trick him into choosing me.” Esther’s mouth set in a firm line.
She does love him—loves him as I never did. I regarded her rather wistfully. “Of course not, Esther. But he will choose you.”
“Because you will arrange it?”
“Yes. Because it is what is best for him. And while I do not love him as you do, Esther, I want him to be happy.”
“And you think I will make him happy?” Esther asked. I noticed she did not deny loving Ahasuerus.
“I think you will make each other happy.”
“And you, Vashti?”
“Esther, I came to this palace when I was only ten years old. I was called queen for another ten years. And yet only now, when I no longer wear a crown, am I a queen in deed instead of merely in name.” I wore a circlet of golden flowers; I lifted it from my hair and held it out to Esther. “Set this upon your head, O Most Beautiful, and may you learn more swiftly than I what it truly means to bear its weight.”
A grand gesture, but life is not a necklace strung with grand gestures as its gems. I was still Vashti; still a young woman who had been raised for half her life with every whim treated as iron law.
That night I cried myself to sleep, and my dreams were not pleasant things.
ESTHER
At last all the maidens had finished the months of preparation; it was time for the king to choose his new queen. Each maiden was to be allotted one night with the king—one night to decide her future and his. To make the allocation of the nights fair and equitable, all the maidens were to draw ivory tokens. Each token had a number written upon it in gold. We would go to the king in the order of the number we had drawn. We were to choose our tokens tomorrow.
“I’ve never heard of anything so outrageous.” I stared at Vashti, and saw nothing in her eyes but a faint, wistful amusement.
“The court is outrageous,” Vashti said. “And Amestris is the most outrageous creature in the court. This is her plan.”
“And it’s absurd. How can the King of Kings make an intelligent choice in one night?”
“You think two would be better?”
“I think it’s the way one chooses a concubine, not a queen. Surely the King of Kings desires a Queen of Queens, not merely someone—”
“Beautiful, supple, and compliant?” Vashti rested her chin upon her knees, wrapped her arms around her legs, hugging herself into a tight ball. “I think that Ahasuerus desires what his mother wishes him to desire. And if I had learned that earlier, I would still be queen today.”
“I am sorry,” I said, and she glanced up at me, and smiled.
“Don’t be. If I’m a fool, you clearly are not. You are what the Seven Princes demanded—a maiden wiser and more worthy to be queen than I.” Vashti uncoiled and rose to her feet, leaned upon the wall beside me. “This is war, Esther—and I intend to triumph over Amestris.”
“By making me queen?”
“Yes, by making you queen. We must ensure that Ahasuerus chooses you, Esther—and no one else.”
* * *
I remained in the tiny balcony long after Vashti had gone, watching the sky burn from turquoise into red and gold. Queen of Persia—I, Hadassah, jewel of learning, must win the crown by competing in a contest to satisfy a king’s lust.
And if I did? If King Ahasuerus chose me, what would that mean for me?
Somehow I suspected that being queen would not mean I could sit in my study and read all day—although if I became queen, Queen Mother Amestris would undoubtedly encourage me to do just that. I knew how she had controlled Vashti’s life, and she would seek to do so with the new queen. And I would not allow her to control me.
Then I must ensure that Queen Mother Amestris is rendered powerless to interfere in the queen’s life.
I had no idea how I could achieve that goal, but I refused to worry myself over the matter now. I would only need to draw Amestris’s fangs if I became queen. If I did not—
If I do not, I shall ask Vashti to send me back to my father’s farm. I shall raise horses there, and be happy.
So I told myself—and knew that I lied.
* * *
To draw the lots that would determine our fate—or at least, our night with the king—we all gathered in the Garden of Roses, under the watchful eyes of Vashti and Hegai. Hatach called out our names to come and pull an ivory token from a deep-necked jar. There was a number written upon each token; we would go to the king in the order of our numbers. Hatach called my name first; I saw despair and anger in the eyes of many of the other girls.
I walked slowly up to the jar and put my hand down into the darkness. Vashti had told me how to choose: one token would have a small imperfection marring its smooth surface. That was the token I was to grasp as my own.
I felt carefully through the cool smooth ivory disks. All alike—except one. One of the disks was chipped; rough at the edge. I closed my fingers around that one and withdrew my hand from the jar. As all the other girls waited, staring, I opened my hand.
When I looked at the number upon the ivory disk, it seemed to waver. Forty. Not one. “Forty,” I said, and saw smiles as my rivals realized they still had a chance to outdo me.
I looked at the number upon the ivory disk and swiftly calculated the date that would be mine. The last night of Adar. Spring. Far too long to wait before I went in to the king. He might choose any of the girls who went to him before me.
I may never look upon his face. I may never feel the touch of his skin against mine. If he chooses another …
Too long to wait. Why had Vashti not arranged for me to draw the first night? Forty nights until my chance with the king. Why so long? Does Vashti play some cruel game with me?
“My lady Esther?” Kylah bowed and spoke soft-voiced, a sound that did not carry as a whisper did. “You are summoned.” She slanted her eyes; I followed her gaze and saw she looked to where Hegai and Vashti sat. I followed Kylah to the alcove and bowed before the Chief Eunuch.
“I am here,” I said
.
“Here and unsmiling,” Hegai said.
I held out my hand. The ivory disk lay warm upon my palm; the golden number glinted in the sunlight. “Forty. That means I do not go to the king until the last night of Adar.”
Vashti regarded me placidly; she seemed half-dreaming, as if she had been eating lotus. Hegai’s face was a mask of paint, he a player. “Have you no faith, Esther?”
“Shall I squander my faith upon your games?” I kept my voice low, my tone cheerful. The watching, waiting girls must not know my thoughts or feelings.
“The date was well-chosen. All the stars smiled upon it. Come to me later.” Vashti’s words slid through the air between us, softer than dawn breeze.
“And trust us, O doubting one.” Hegai waved his hand, dismissing me, and I bowed and backed away.
* * *
As she had commanded, I later went to see Vashti. She received me in her garden, beside a fountain that poured water into a star-shaped pool. An old trick; watersong foiled eavesdroppers. Hegai, too, sat there. They both smiled at me.
“Clearly you both are well-pleased with your cunning plan,” I said. “Now will you reveal it to me? I have only to carry out the scheme, after all.” I reined my voice hard; refused to let bitterness enter my tone. Vashti was not like Mordecai, stiff-lipped and silent; she would chatter everything to me if I asked it. Well, now I asked.
Vashti rose and hugged me hard. “Don’t worry, Esther. We thought long and hard on this—well, Hegai thought long and hard, and—”
“Vashti,” I said, “stop speaking of yourself as if you’re a fool. You are quite capable of thinking long and hard.”
Color flamed over her cheeks; this faint praise delighted her. “Very well, Hegai and I. Oh, I know you thought to be the first girl the king would see, and that was my first thought as well. But Esther, it would not answer.”
She was right, and I saw that once I stopped thinking only of those forty nights when the king would look upon other girls, and not upon me.
“The palace is a place of beauty and of riches,” Hegai said, “and also of plots. You are not the only girl who has those who wish to see you queen. Had you drawn the token numbered one, I doubt even I could have kept you safe. You are too much favored, Esther.”
“So—forty. And what is to keep the king from choosing one of the thirty-nine maidens who will go to him before I do?”
“Me,” Vashti said. “By the king’s own decree, I set the laws for this choice of queen. I speak to the king to tell him about the girl he will see, and will speak to him again after her night with him. I can easily persuade him the others are not worthy to take my place.”
This plan sounded unreliable, but I had to admit at the moment I could think of nothing else myself. I looked at Hegai, knowing he would see my doubt; Hegai shrugged.
“The king is not overeager to choose a new queen,” Hegai said. “He still comes to Vashti for comfort, after all. He still listens to her. It is the best we can do.”
Vashti looked at me intently. “You don’t like it? You’re so clever, Esther—surely you’ll think of something better. When you do, tell us at once.”
Vashti had more faith in my mind than I myself possessed. Still, perhaps I would think of something better. That night I sat quiet in my room, trying to invent a plan without flaw. I could think only that if Ahasuerus chose another to be his wife, I would die of grief.
At last I grew irritated with my own misery. If Ahasuerus chose another, I would not die. I would live with pain in my heart all my life, but I would not die. I do not want to live my life weeping for what I cannot have. So I must think of a way to gain my heart’s desire. And I have forty days to do so.
No, less than that. I must ensure my future before the first girl was summoned for her night with the king, for he might choose her simply to end this mad contest. For that, I must find someone wiser than I. Even as I thought that, I knew I must again ask advice of Daniel.
* * *
Daniel seemed unsurprised to see me at his gate. Well, by now all the world knew the numbers each of the Chosen Maidens had drawn. Forty.
“Esther,” he said. “Come in and sit. Be welcome—although I’m not sure I can do anything for you this time.”
“You can listen,” I said, and Daniel smiled.
“Yes, that I can do. Speak, then, and I will listen.”
And he did, sitting quiet as I told him everything. Vashti’s plan, Hegai’s doubts, my fears—all poured out before him like water from a broken jar. “And so I will be the fortieth girl the king sees. It is so long to wait, there are so many chances for all to turn to dust in my hands.”
Daniel waited, but I suddenly had no more words to offer.
“Would it be so bad a thing, if you are not chosen queen?” he asked.
“I don’t care about being queen. I—” I drew a deep breath. “I love Ahasuerus. I don’t care about the rest, save that I cannot have him if I do not win the crown.”
“You are sure?”
I laughed, shakily. “I think I am sure. How do you know your own heart?”
“That is indeed a hard thing to know, Esther. I didn’t know my own until—well, not too late. But—”
“But you have her, your Samamat.” I liked Daniel’s wife, foreign though she might be. Samamat was clever and kind; I wished she were my mother.
“Yes, I have Samamat now. But I nearly lost her, and Arioch too, because I was afraid.”
Arioch—? Oh, yes, the captain of Nebuchadnezzar’s guard, the man who had helped Daniel save himself from the wrath of mad kings. “Now it is my turn to listen,” I said, and Daniel laughed softly.
“That is not a tale for your maiden ears, child. And it was all a long time ago. A very long time.” Daniel sighed, and gazed into the fountain, as if he saw dreams in the bright falling water. “Arioch—” Daniel turned his face to me, and I saw the past shadowing his sky-eyes. “He won Samamat, for I was too slow to speak first. And too afraid of what the other Jews would say, if I married her.”
Daniel turned his head and came back to me. “If you love Ahasuerus, you must cast out fear. And always remember that small fears are more killing than the great. ‘What will others say? Will I look foolish? Will he say no?’ Those things don’t matter. Dare and win.”
“Or dare and lose?”
“Yes. But even if you fail, at least you will have tried. You will not spend all your days reproaching yourself because you let small fears rule you.”
Sound advice, as I only truly understood later. Now I yearned for more tangible guidance. “But what am I to do? How can I ensure the King of Kings chooses me?”
Daniel stared past me, as if he saw my future in the soft hot air. At last he said, “Did you not say that Vashti wishes you to be chosen?”
“Yes,” I said.
“And did you not say that Hegai looks upon you with favor?”
“Yes. Yes, he does.”
“Then,” said Daniel Dream-Master, “I suggest you ask them, and not me. If the banished queen and the keeper of the king’s women both want the king to chose you, I’m sure they have some plan in mind—probably something so exquisitely devious it would give the Sphinx a headache. Go and ask them what their cunning plan is, and then come up with a plan of your own. Something simple.”
I looked at him closely, to see if he jested. His eyes smiled, but his mouth remained solemn. “Something simple,” I echoed.
“Yes,” said Daniel Dream-Master, who had counseled kings. “Something simple, Esther. There are far too many clever deceptions coiling through the palaces like invisible serpents.”
For a breath I felt the cool malice of such serpents slide over my skin. I shuddered, chilled. “I will avoid them.”
“That would be wise. It may not be possible. Remember that nothing is secret in a palace. Nothing. May the Lord Our God protect you, Hadassah. No one else will.”
* * *
Something simple. The words repeated
themselves in my mind, like a song that will not be forgotten. Something simple. The king must chose me, he must. Vashti wished it; Hegai wished it. And I—I desired it with all my heart. My blood burned for Ahasuerus.
Something simple—a simple plan to ensure he chooses me—
“If only I could just tell him!” I cried aloud, and as the words faded into the air, I knew what I had to do.
* * *
“You want me to tell him now to choose you?” Vashti stared at me with her huge silver-green eyes. “Just tell him?”
“Yes,” I said. “It’s what we all want. So tell him. Why gamble when the stakes are so high? He will listen to you, I think.”
She looked thoughtful, twirled a lock of her ivory hair about her fingers. “Yes, he will listen. And—oh, Esther, I think it may work.”
“It will work better than scheming and hoping. I think you should tell him plainly what you wish for him, and for me. Too many have played with him as if he were a puppet rather than a man and a king.”
Vashti regarded me wide-eyed, then nodded. “You are right. But—what if he says no?”
“If he says no—well, that will at least end the suspense.” If the king refused me sight unseen, I would weep for a day. If he refused me after I had spent my one night with him, I would weep until I had no tears left. I would walk dry-eyed and stone-hearted for the rest of my days.
“You’re crying.” Vashti put her arm around me. “What’s wrong, Esther?”
What is wrong is that I burn for a man who has never set eyes upon me. I am so afraid he will not choose me that my heart hurts with each beat.
I longed to say these words aloud, to unburden myself. I knew Vashti would be kind, would soothe and cosset me and try to make me smile again. I nearly did say them—but then I remembered Daniel’s words.
Nothing is secret in a palace. Nothing.
I drew a deep breath and pressed my fingers to my eyes, wiping away the betraying tears. I smiled. “What’s wrong is that I am tired, and that I think too much on the forty long days and nights I must wait to see the king. That is all.”
Game of Queens Page 33