Game of Queens

by India Edghill

  What? The crown no longer bound me. But I was not yet free.

  * * *

  For a time, Esther’s gift released me from my troubled thoughts. Soon after she had refused to allow me on Star’s back, she came to me and said,

  “I have a gift for you, my sister.”

  “A gift?”

  “Yes, Vashti, a gift. Surely you have been given one before?” Esther smiled, and beckoned. “Come and see.”

  Esther’s gift stood in the stable court, stamping her shining hooves impatiently. A mare, her coat the rich gold of honey, her mane and tail shimmering like jet. Dark sunshine dancing in the hot light …

  “Mine?” I spoke as if never before had I set eyes upon a horse. The mare saw me and her restless hooves paused, then she sidled sideways, her small curved ears flicking back and forth.

  “Yours.” Esther, kind, did not laugh.

  I had owned horses aplenty—or rather, the Queen of Queens had possessed a stable full of fine steeds, many of them as pale as my hair. But this mare was different. She had been chosen for Vashti. For me. Esther had taken great care, had chosen a horse matched to my temper and my skill.

  After that, I rode almost every day upon Sunrise—for so I named the mare. Esther rode with me as often as she could. Under her tutelage, I became—not as fine a horsewoman as she—but at least a much better rider than I had been before.

  I loved Esther’s gift, and I loved Esther for her care for my happiness. Everyone loved Esther. Ahasuerus could have made no better choice for queen than she.

  ESTHER

  I was surprised when Daniel sent a message asking me to come to him; he had never done so before. When I arrived at his house, Daniel and Samamat sat waiting and neither smiled, so I knew something was very wrong. I sat at their feet and Daniel said, “Your cousin Mordecai came to see me again.”

  “Did he have another dream?” I asked, and Daniel shook his head.

  “No, this time Mordecai came because he overheard a plot against the king. He was working in the King’s Gate…”

  Mordecai had missed the beginning of the ridiculous, deadly conversation, for the two eunuchs did not whisper. They spoke softly, but openly. Apparently it did not occur to them that they were not the only ones in the empire who understood Akkadian.

  Of course, few men spoke that ancient tongue now, and of those who did, fewer still dwelt in Shushan. Mordecai, however, was one of them.

  He had continued writing, creating neat, precise copies of the palace receipts, as the two eunuchs stopped conversing and began quarreling. It was that change in rhythm that had caught Mordecai’s ear.

  “The two of them argued the respective virtues of wolf’s-bane and viper’s venom.” Daniel paused; Samamat added, “To use on the king. To make him ill, you understand, so they could cure him and gain his favor.”

  Ridiculous, and deadly. “What a preposterous notion. It’s laughable. Who are these eunuchs?”

  “Bigthan and Teresh,” Daniel said. “Apparently they talk far too much. Perhaps that’s why they’re no longer servants in the king’s chambers, but keepers of the doors.”

  Servants in the king’s chambers until recently, now doorkeepers to the king’s chambers. Unhappy with the change, hoping to re-enter the king’s presence by poisoning him—and then curing him. Earning the king’s eternal gratitude and favor—

  Idiots. How can such fools be so dangerous?

  Daniel handed me a letter. “This is from Mordecai.”

  I had not heard from my cousin Mordecai since the day I walked into the blue-and-white pavilion where my future awaited me. Now I looked once more upon words written in Hebrew in his neat scribe’s hand.

  Two palace eunuchs, Bigthan and Teresh, plot to poison the king. They wish to make him ill, that they may cure him with a miraculous antidote and earn his undying gratitude and reinstatement as servants in his chambers. Warn the king.

  I folded the message and tucked it into the emerald-set girdle about my waist. I knew better than to rush through the palace crying out that the king’s life lay in danger. I would arouse panic, and Ahasuerus’s guards would lash out in deadly reaction, seeing traitors where none existed.

  No, this was a fool’s plot by two fools. They alone should pay for their folly. My skin grew cold as I envisioned the two eunuchs pouring poison into Ahasuerus’s wine. Don’t they know one can never be sure, with any poison? A drop too much, and no antidote under heaven can save him.

  Now I must warn Ahasuerus, but quietly. I allowed myself to think acidly that only Mordecai would deem it necessary to order me to warn my husband that he was in danger of being poisoned.

  I returned to my own rooms and told Hatach to ready my riding clothes. Then I sent a message to Ahasuerus, saying that it would please me greatly if it would please him to ride out with me before the sun set today.

  * * *

  Fortune favored me; it pleased Ahasuerus to honor my request. In the dying light, we rode beside the Choaspes, savoring the scent of the sweet water. I reined Star to a halt, and turned to Ahasuerus. “If it please my lord husband, there is something I must unfold to you.”

  Ahasuerus drew his horse to a halt beside Star; curbed his mount’s attempt to snap at mine. “Well, my love? What is it?”

  From the glint of laughter in his eyes, I knew he expected to be amused. The laughter swiftly died as I told him of the danger Mordecai had revealed to me. “So I beg of you, neither eat nor drink anything until the two have been taken. Do not put your hand into a chest, or into a pile of cushions. Do not touch—”

  Ahasuerus held up his hand. “Stop, Esther. I am here, and safe. Now, how did you learn of this plot? Who told you?”

  I laid my hand on Star’s neck, calming, for my agitation had distressed him. “Mordecai the Jew—he’s one of your best scribes, my lord king.”

  “And how do you know him?”

  He is my cousin. I, too, am a Jew. You must know this, heart of my heart. How could Ahasuerus not know? Had he not regained my Star for me? Surely he must have learned that Abihail the horse-trader had been a Jew?

  Or perhaps not. Perhaps Ahasuerus had merely said, “Find me such-and-such a horse,” and thought no more upon the matter. For all that he had a keen enough mind, I had to admit that never had my beloved husband been encouraged to think for himself. Thinking, like any other skill, takes practice.

  Why must the fire of my heart and the light of my eyes be—well, not a fool, but not very wise? Why does only this man of all men in the world delight my soul?

  “My queen?”

  I realized I had been staring at Ahasuerus instead of answering his question. “When he learned of the plot against you, Mordecai sent word to me, my lord king.”

  “And why not to me?”

  My lord king chooses a fine time to ask clever questions! I touched my heels to Star’s sides, a movement invisible to Ahasuerus; Star danced sideways, shaking his head. Soothing my apparently restive stallion gave me time to think how to answer.

  “Perhaps Mordecai thought it safer to warn your queen, knowing she would at once inform you. And since all the world knows I cannot live out of your sight”—I slanted my eyes at him, and Ahasuerus grinned back at me—“my urgent request to ride out with you seemed only … commonplace. I’m sure Mordecai wished to avoid warning the traitors inadvertently, causing them to advance their plans and act in haste.”

  “Very wise.” Ahasuerus stared down at his hands, and sighed. “Now I suppose I must attend to this matter. And those two fools will die for folly.”

  “And for plotting poison, my lord.” I thought it wise to remind Ahasuerus of this. Still … “But I know you have a just and a merciful heart, my lord, so I suppose you’ll merely hang them.”

  The empire meted out many far harsher deaths.

  “I suppose so. I won’t think about it right now. Remind me later to have it all written into the Court Record. Come, my queen and my love—I’ll race you to that outcrop of rock. N
ow!” Ahasuerus urged his horse forward into a gallop.

  Smiling, I held Star back, although only for so long as it took me to count to three. I knew Star would easily outstrip the king’s mount—but I did not wish him to seem to win too easily.

  * * *

  Later, I carefully reminded Ahasuerus to have the entire incident written into the Court Record, that endless book of everything that passed in the palace and in the king’s days. Sometimes, when Ahasuerus found it hard to sleep, I sat curled beside him, reading to him the minutiae that filled the scrolls. For the most part, the record was exceedingly dull; half an hour’s reading in my quietest, softest voice, and my beloved husband found sleep easy to summon. I loved to see him so, peaceful and quiet in his mind as he seldom was during his over-full days.

  I waited until we shared his bed, Ahasuerus curled about me like a great, fond cat. I leaned my back against the high-piled pillows and selected a scroll of the Court Record at random. “Before I read, may I remind you of a duty as yet undone?

  “My love?” In the intimacy of his bedchamber, we were not king and queen, but husband and wife. I reveled in speaking without every other utterance being “my lord king.”

  Ahasuerus looked up at me through his dark thick lashes. “What duty would you have me perform, Esther? Whatever you desire is yours, to the half of my kingdom. What would please you?”

  “Would you truly please me, my heart?”

  “Of course. You are my beloved; all I possess is yours for the asking.”

  “Then if you would please me, cease offering me half your kingdom. I am your wife—your wife who dearly loves you. That love came freely, poured into me by the grace of the All-Wise God. You cannot buy me, Ahasuerus. I am already yours.” I bent and kissed his brow. “I was yours the moment I set my eyes upon you, as you walked with your friend Haman on the western balcony.”

  He reached up, coiled his fingers about my wrist. “Would you deny me the pleasure of bestowing gifts upon you?”

  “No, of course not. But such extravagant, meaningless vows have no place in our private world. Ask me plainly what I desire, and I will tell you. And I promise I shall never ask for the half of your kingdom.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because that is not enough.”

  “What will satisfy you, then, my star?”

  “Not half your kingdom”—I kissed him upon his mouth, my lips lingering, coaxing—“but your whole heart.”

  “That you have already.” He pulled me down beside him, tossed the scroll of the Court Record onto the floor. “Forget that tedious recitation. I no longer desire sleep.”

  I put my hands on his chest and held him off. “Nor do I, but neither have I forgotten that I was to remind you to cause the affair of the treacherous eunuchs written into the royal record. You remember? Your loyal scribe Mordecai foiled the plot to poison you?”

  “Of course I remember—it’s not every day I am the target of such utter folly.” Ahasuerus touched his fingers across my lips; frowned. “I suppose I should send for a scribe before the entire matter is lost to memory.”

  A scribe, and the scribe’s apprentice carrying the tools of the writer’s trade. And a guard watching from the doorway, and a eunuch to watch the guard—and farewell to our private, loving night together. I looked down into Ahasuerus’s eyes, enthralling as night sky. “I have a better idea,” I said. “Tell me what you wish the chronicle to say, and I will write your words into the Court Record myself.”

  He raised his brows. “You?”

  “Yes, I. Do you not remember that among my other talents, I read and write half a dozen languages?” I sat up and shoved my hair back. “I am at your service, my lord king and my husband—unless you truly would rather spend half the night summoning scribes…” I shrugged; the robe I wore, translucent as black water, slid off my shoulders and down my arms, baring my breasts. Lamplight glinted on the gold dust powdered over my skin.

  “Get the newest scroll,” Ahasuerus said, his voice thick against the warm soft air, “and write as I will tell you. Write swiftly.”

  I laughed and did as he ordered. I think that was the most concise entry ever written into the Court Record of Ahasuerus, King of Kings. And the moment I drew the final stroke of the last word, Ahasuerus wound his hands through my tumbled hair and pulled me down until we lay breast to breast, skin to skin. The scroll and the pen fell away. Neither of us missed them.

  Unmarked time later, we both fell into the heavy sleep of sated pleasure. And we both forgot the scroll of the Court Record in which I had written of how Mordecai had saved the king’s life.

  VASHTI

  While Ahasuerus delighted in his wife, Haman savored the bloodshed to come. The death of all the Jews would rid the empire of Queen Esther, and King Ahasuerus would be no match for Haman, who would catch the crown as it fell. Haman saw himself seated on the throne, saw all the court bow down to Haman, King of Kings.…

  How do I know what Haman thought? Very simply: Zeresh told me, once she was safely Haman’s widow. Haman’s death freed her from a marriage worse than slavery, and Queen Esther offered her a place among the queen’s ladies, a home in the palace. Zeresh accepted both eagerly—and revealed what had been behind Haman’s plot to eliminate the empire’s Jews.

  Treason.

  For Haman came to believe that he owned a better right to rule than did Ahasuerus. Oh, Haman wished the Jews dead, but the Adar Law was a means, rather than an end in itself. Haman desired the crown, and me as his queen. The slaughter of an entire people would send shockwaves through the empire, and in the fear and outrage that would follow, Haman would rise as savior of peace and safety. Since many Jews worked in the empire’s service, after the thirteenth of Adar there would be many empty positions in King Haman’s gift.

  Zeresh knew Haman’s devious plans because Haman himself told her. She feared him too much to betray even so much as one word—and she had been kept close-confined as a prisoner. Haman could not resist gloating over his cleverness, over the assured success of his wicked schemes.

  And now that his plans lay in ruins and he as food for crows, Zeresh spilled forth all the words she had never before been permitted to utter.

  So when I say “Haman thought such-and-so,” I tell truth as Zeresh told it to me.…

  When Ahasuerus divorced me, Haman considered that I was now … nothing. Surely I must spend my days weeping until my eyes reddened and my head ached. Haman thought me a soft, silly little fool. But fools can be useful—especially a beautiful fool who must miss the weight of a crown upon her head. Haman decided he must court me, entice me into friendship. Women, to Haman, existed only as vain, frivolous creatures, easily persuaded. They could be bribed with a few glittering baubles, or, if they were stubborn, convinced by a few well-placed blows. A woman did as she was told. Haman never tolerated a woman’s whims.

  Haman was certain I must bitterly regret my folly. A little sympathy, a little guidance from Haman—and I would become his ally within the palace. I was no longer Queen of Queens, but I remained a princess of Babylon. I remained King Belshazzar’s granddaughter—

  And Haman was a king’s son.

  Few knew this, for Haman’s mother had been neither wife nor concubine to King Darius. She had been the too-beautiful wife of one of Darius’s most devotedly obsequious princes. Prince Memucan denied his king nothing—not even his wife. The child King Darius had sired upon her had been claimed as Memucan’s and given to another, far less exalted, family to rear. Until the Queen Mother had looked with favor upon Haman and he had become Ahasuerus’s friend, Prince Memucan had ignored him utterly.

  Now Memucan treated Haman with the utmost propriety—but he never met Haman’s eyes.

  I was unsurprised to hear Zeresh say that it was Queen Mother Amestris who had revealed his true parentage to Haman. Amestris had needed a new playing-piece, and a grateful and ambitious Haman suited her perfectly. And she disliked Prince Memucan, who made no secret of his opinion tha
t the Seven Princes should have controlled the young king, rather than his mother.

  Haman vowed that someday Memucan would kneel to him. Memucan would crawl to kiss Haman’s feet. Haman vowed a great many things, Zeresh said.

  So Haman had vowed and plotted—and then Haman’s suggestion that Ahasuerus choose a new wife transmuted into an empire-wide contest to select a new queen. Haman had unwittingly handed me power when he abandoned management of the contest to me. That act meant I, and not Haman, influenced the king’s choice. Haman had not succeeded in ingratiating himself with me, a failure he blamed upon Zeresh, by the time the king had made that choice.

  When messengers rode out from Shushan carrying the news across the empire that the king had found his queen, Haman found new reasons for anger. Chief among them should have been his own folly, but it was easier to blame his troubles on someone other than himself.

  In Shushan, the proclamation had been shouted out in all the squares and streets, and Shushan had run mad with joy. Their maiden had triumphed; the new Queen of Queens was their offering. Even this harmless delight infuriated Haman, but he showed only smiles to Ahasuerus; said only words of good wishes and ardent congratulations.

  To Zeresh, Haman snarled that any real king—any real man—would have wedded and bedded his new woman within a month of banishing that foolish girl Vashti.

  And Haman wondered just how pleased Ahasuerus thought his cast-off wife would be to hear him extol the virtues of the woman who would take her place. Certain that I must burn with anger and hurt, Haman confidently expected me to be grateful for an ally. He could not imagine that I did not secretly long to once again be queen.

  Surely, Haman thought, I needed a strong friend now, one who dared risk all to gain the prize. A man who could set a crown upon my head once more.

  A man such as Haman himself.

  Once that thought slipped into Haman’s mind, it coiled deadly as a waiting viper. As time passed, Haman’s ambition reminded him that he, too, was King Darius’s son. That he could have been king … that he should be king.